Part 6 (1/2)

Ruth was left in a sorry plight, so suddenly bereft of the strong arm she had leaned upon, without a thought that it could ever be taken from her. Now she had only her son, a st.u.r.dy lad, indeed, but of an age to be cared for rather than to care for others. Toombs had proved better than he looked, kind enough, and a good worker, and familiar with the needs of the farm. When his time was out she had no means to pay his wages nor could she well get along without him. So he staid on, taking a mortgage, at length, on the premises in lieu of money, and becoming more and more important in Ruth's estimation, though regarded with increasing dislike and jealousy by her son, who found himself less and less considered.

Months pa.s.sed, dulling sorrow and the sense of loss, and bringing many a bitter change. The bitterness of Nathan's life was made almost unbearable presently. His mother, of a weak and clinging nature, inevitably drifted to a fate a more self-reliant woman would have avoided. Worried with uncomprehended business, and a.s.sured by Toombs that this was the only way to retain a home for herself and children, yet unmoved by the kindly advice of Seth's honest friends and neighbors, as well as the anger and entreaties of her son, she went with Toombs over to the Fort, where they were married by the chaplain stationed there.

With such a man in the place of his wise and affectionate father, Nathan's life was filled with misery, nor could he ever comprehend his mother's course. Though bestowing upon Martha and his mother indifferent notice or none at all, towards the boy the stepfather exercised his recently acquired authority with severity, giving him the hardest and most unpleasant work to do, and treating him always with distrust, often with cruelty.

”I hate him,” he told Ruth. ”He's sa.s.sed me every day since I come here, and I've got a bigger job 'an that to settle, one that I'd ha' settled with his father, if he hadn't cheated me by gettin' killed.”

”Oh, what do you mean?” Ruth gasped. ”I thought you and Seth was always good friends.”

”Friends!” he growled, contemptuously; ”I hated the ground he walked on.

Look here,” and Silas pulled out his leather pocketbook and took from it a soiled paper which he held before her eyes.

She read the bold, clear signature of Ethan Allen, and, with a sickening thrill, that of Seth Beeman under it.

”Yes, Ethan Allen and Seth Beeman and his neighbors whipped a man for claimin' his own, and your boy went and gethered 'em in. Mebby you re'collect it.”

”I couldn't help it,” she gasped. ”I didn't see it. I run and hid and stopped my ears.”

”Well, 'Rastus Graves 'ould ha' settled his debts if he'd ha' lived. But he died afore his back got healed over, and afore he died he turned the job over to his brother, that's me, Silas Toombs, or Graves-they're the same in the end.”

Ruth stared at him in dumb amazement and horror, while he proceeded, pouring forth his long concealed wrath.

”Well, I've got Seth Beeman's wife, and, what's wuth more, his farm, an'

his childern right 'nunder my thumb. I hope he knows on't. And now, ma'am,” lowering his voice from its pa.s.sionate exultation, ”you don't want to breathe a word o' this to your nice neighbors or to your young 'uns. It wouldn't do no good and it might be unpleasant all round. You don't want folks to know what a fool you be.”

After this disclosure, Ruth lived, in weariness and vain regret, a life that seemed quite hopeless but for looking forward to the time when her son could a.s.sert his rights and be her champion. Her nature was one of those that still bend, without being broken, by whatever weight is laid on them.

CHAPTER X-REBELLION

One day Nathan was gathering ashes from the heaps where the log piles had been burned and storing them in a rude shed. Close by this stood the empty leach-tubs awaiting filling and the busy days and nights when the potash-making should begin. It was hard, unpleasant work, irritating to skin, eyes, and temper. It was natural a boy should linger a little as Nathan did, when he emptied a basket, and quickly retreated with held breath out of the dusty cloud. He looked longingly on the s.h.i.+ning channel of the creek, and wished he might follow it to the lake and fish in the cool shadows of the sh.o.r.e. He wished that Job would chance to come through the woods, but Job lately rarely came near them, for he was vexed with Ruth for mating with this stranger, and the new master gave no welcome to any of the friends of the old master. His hands were busy as his thoughts, when he was startled by his stepfather's voice close behind him.

”You lazy whelp, what you putterin' 'bout? You spend half your time a gawpin. You git them ashes housed afore noon or I'll give ye a skinnin', and I'll settle an old score at the same time,” and Toombs switched a blue beech rod he held in his big hand. After seeing the boy hurry nervously to this impossible task, he went back to his chopping.

The shadows crept steadily toward the north till they marked noontime, and still one gray ash heap confronted Nathan. As he stood with a full basket of ashes poised on the edge of the ash bin, Toombs appeared, with his axe on his shoulder and the beech in his hand. ”You know what I told you, and Silas Toombs doesn't go back on his words; no, sir.”

”I couldn't do it. I tried, but I couldn't get 'em all done!”

Silas strode toward him in a fury, when Nathan hurled the basket of ashes full at his head, and dodging behind the shed was in rapid flight toward the woods, when his a.s.sailant emerged from the choking, blinding cloud, sputtering out mingled oaths and ashes. In a moment he caught the line of flight and followed in swift pursuit. The boy's nimble feet widened the distance between them, but he was at the start almost exhausted with his severe work, so that when he reached the woods his only hope lay in hiding.

Silas, entering the woods, could neither see nor hear his intended victim. Listening between spasms of rus.h.i.+ng and raging, he heard a slight rustling among the branches of a great hemlock that reared its huge, russet-gray trunk close beside him. Looking up, he saw a pair of dusty legs dangling twenty feet above him.

”Come down, you little devil, or I'll shoot you.”

”I won't,” said Nathan, half surprised at his own daring; ”you can't shoot with an axe.”

”I'm glad you made me think on't. Then come down or I'll chop you down!”