As soon as his breath was recovered, Herbert got up, and headed for these woods.  A few minutes found him in the midst of them.  He made his way with some difficulty through the underbrush, parting the thick stems with his hands, until he reached a comparatively open space of perhaps an acre in extent.  In the midst of this space a rude hut was visible, constructed of logs, and covered with the branches of trees.  In front of it, sitting on the stump of a tree, which perhaps had been spared for that purpose, sat a tall man, with very brown complexion, clad in a rough hunting suit.  His form, though spare, was tough and sinewy, and the muscles of his bare arms seemed like whipcords.  A short, black pipe was in his mouth.  The only covering of his head was the rough, grizzled hair, which looked as if for months it had never felt the touch of a comb or brush.

Herbert, though he had never before seen this singular being, recognized him at once as Ralph the Ranger, as he was properly called in the village.  For years he had lived a hermit-like existence in the forest, supporting himself mainly by his rifle.  This was not difficult, for his wants were few and simple.  What cause led him to shun the habitations of his kind, and make his dwelling in the woods, no one knew, and perhaps no one ever would know, for of himself he was silent, and it was not easy to draw him out.

He looked up as he heard Herbert’s step, and said, abruptly:  “Well, boy, what do you want?”

His manner was rough, but our hero was not afraid.  He answered frankly, “I am hiding.”

“Hiding?  Who from?”

“From Abner Holden.”

“Humph!  Why should you hide from him?  What has he to do with you?”

“I am bound to him, and he is angry with me because he thinks I interfered in a trade of his.  He wanted to beat me, so I ran away.”

“Good!” said Ralph, approvingly.  “Tell me about it.”

Herbert drew near, and told his story.

Ralph listened attentively.

“Boy,” said he, “I think you are honest.  There are not many that can be said of.  As for Abner Holden, I know him.  He’s a mean skinflint.  Pah!” and he spit, contemptuously.  “You’d better not go back to him.”

“I don’t mean to,” said Herbert, promptly.

“What are your plans?  Have you formed any?”

“I want to go to New York.”

“To New York,” repeated Ralph, thoughtfully.  “You wish to get into the crowd, while I seek to avoid it.  But it is natural to youth.  At your age, it was so with me.  I hope, my boy, the time will not come when you, like me, will wish to shun the sight of men.”

Herbert listened in sympathy, not unmingled with surprise, to the speech of this man, which was quite superior to what might have been expected from one of his appearance.

“When do you wish to start?” asked Ralph, after a pause.

“First, I want to get my clothes.”