"I will show him how to run away, the rascal. Harry, go to the barn and
bring the buggy whip," and saying this the father rushed across the little
opening between the two buildings and stamped into the kitchen. Austin was
on his knees fastening his suitcase, which was all packed and ready for his
start. He had not meant to bid his father good-by, nor to tell him any of
his plans. He was too angry and his heart too defiant to want even to look
at him again. When his father came in, Austin rose from his knees and faced
him.

"What is up here, young man? I will let you know right here that there is
going to be no running away from this ranch! You get that grip where it
belongs, in a hurry," thundered the irate father.

"I am going away to find work. I shall take care of myself from this time
on," said the boy resolutely facing the angry man.

"Take care of yourself," sneered his father, "you could not exist a month
on your own resources. You take those clothes out of that grip and stop
this nonsense!"

"I am going away, and you need not try to hinder me," said Austin in firm,
even tones.

A fearful oath escaped the father's lips and he grabbed the whip which the
sobbing Harry had brought; for as much as Harry loved Austin he dare not
disobey his father's command. Turning again to Austin, the man thundered,
"I'll thrash you within an inch of your life. Don't you dare to tell me you
are going away when I forbid it. For once you will obey me."