and get outn here!" he raged, brandishing his
walking stick. "My house is no longer a home for such as you."

"Wh--where shall I go?" asked Ralph, still dazed over this astounding
outcome of the Vaughn incident.

"Mebbe you'd better go over to Jase Vaughn's," sneered old Granger.
"His father killed yourn, but you don't care for such a little thing as
that."

"Grandpa," cried Ralph, stung to indignation at last, "it is cruel of
you to treat me so, simply because I wouldn't commit murder.
Yes--murder. I say it would have been murder! I'm no coward; and it
is cowardly to shoot down a man and him not knowing."

"You reprobate!" gasped the obdurate old mountaineer. "I've a notion
to thrash you--right here."

He again shook his cane and glared his hatred of Ralph's conduct. But
the boy only said:

"I'd rather you beat me than do what I always would be miserable over.
Let's drop it, grandpa."

He passed into the cabin and observed a small pile of clothing on the
floor.

"There's your duds, boy," said Bras Granger grimly. "Pick 'em up and
pull your freight outn here."

Ralph surveyed the old man curiously; but as he noted the latter's
stern, unyielding aspect he said no more until he had rolled up a clean
shirt and a pair of socks. A tear or two fell as he tied the bundle in
a large handkerchief.

"Am I to take the gun?" asked he, gulping down his emotion as best he
could.

"No!" almost shouted the old man. "What business you got with a gun?
Come now; are you ready?"

Ralph nodded; his heart was too full to speak.

The old man stood aside and pointed to the door. Ralph held out his
hand.

"Good by," he managed to falter forth. "May God forgive you for
turnin' me out this day."

He passed through the yard, feeling for the gate, for his eyes were dim
with moisture. Crossing the foot log, he walked on until he came to a
rise of ground just where the road made a sudden turn.

Then he wheeled, dashed the tears away, and took a last look at the
place where he was born and had always lived.

Shut in by wild and rugged mountains, far from the world's great life,
humble and homely, it was still the only place on earth where the
orphaned lad had felt that he had any natural right to be. And now,
even this slender thread had been rudely severed by his nearest living
relative.

"Good-by, old home," said he audibly, as he waved his hand in a
farewell gesture. "I hate to leave you when it comes to the