Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill

 or

 Jasper Parloe's Secret

by Alice B. Emerson, 1913

 CHAPTER I

 THE RED FLAME IN THE NIGHT

The sound of the drumming wheels! It had roared in the ears of RuthFielding for hours as she sat on the comfortably upholstered seat inthe last car of the afternoon Limited, the train whirling her from theWest to the East, through the fertile valleys of Upper New York State. 

This had been a very long journey for the girl, but Ruth knew that itwould soon come to an end. Cheslow was not many miles ahead now; shehad searched it out upon the railroad timetable, and upon the mapprinted on the back of the sheet; and as the stations flew by, she hadspelled their names out with her quick eyes, until dusk had fallen andshe could no longer see more than the signal lamps and switch targetsas the train whirled her on. 

But she still stared through the window. This last car of the trainwas fairly well filled, but she had been fortunate in having a seatall to herself; she was glad this was so, for a person in the seatwith her might have discovered how hard it was for her to keep backthe tears. 

For Ruth Fielding was by no means one of the "crying kind, " and shehad forbidden herself the luxury of tears on this occasion. 

"We had all that out weeks ago, you know we did!" she whispered, apostrophizing that inner self that really wanted to break the bravecompact. "When we knew we had to leave dear old Darrowtown, and MissTrue Pettis, and Patsy Hope, and-- and 'all other perspiring friends, 'to quote Amoskeag Lanfell's letter that she wrote home fromConference. 

"No, Ruth Fielding! Uncle Jabez Potter may be the very nicest kind ofan old dear. And to live in a mill-- and one painted red, too! Thatought to make up for a good many disappointments-- "

Her soliloquy was interrupted by a light tap upon her shoulder. Ruthglanced around and up quickly. She saw standing beside her the tallold gentleman who had been sitting two seats behind on the other sideof the aisle ever since the train left Buffalo. 

He was a spare old gentleman, with a gaunt, eagle-beaked face, cleanlyshaven but for a sweeping iron-gray mustache, his iron-gray hair wavedover the collar of his black coat-- a regular mane of hair whichflowed out from under the brim of his well-brushed, soft-crowned hat. His face would have been very stern in its expression had it not beenfor the little twinkle in his bright, dark eyes. 

"Why don't you do it?" he asked Ruth, softly. 

"Why don't I do what, sir?" she responded, not without a little gulp, for that lump would rise in her throat. 

"Why don't you cry?" questioned the strange old gentleman, stillspeaking softly and with that little twinkle in his eye. 

"Because I am determined not to cry, sir, " and now Ruth could call upa little smile, though perhaps the corners of her mouth trembled abit. 

The gentleman sat down beside her, although she had not invited him todo so. She was not at all afraid of him and, after all, perhaps shewas glad to have him do it. 

"Tell me all about it, " he suggested, with such an air of confidenceand interest that Ruth warmed more and more toward him. 

But it was a little hard to begin. When he told her, however, that hewas going to Cheslow, too-- indeed, that that was his home-- it waseasier by far. 

"I am Doctor Davison, my dear, " he said. "If you are going to live inCheslow you will hear all about Doctor Davison, and you would betterknow him at first-hand, to avoid mistakes, " and his eyes twinkled morethan ever, though his stern mouth never relaxed. 

"I expect that my new home is some little way outside of Cheslow, "Ruth said, timidly. "They call it the Red Mill. "

The humorous light faded out of the dark, bright eyes of thegentleman. Yet even then his countenance did not impress her as beingunkindly. 

"Jabez Potter's mill, " he said, thoughtfully. 

"Yes, sir. That is my uncle's name. "

"Your uncle?"

"My great uncle, to be exact, " said Ruth. "He was mother's uncle. "

"Then you, " he said, speaking even more gently than before, "arelittle Mary Potter's daughter?"

"Mother was Mary Potter before she married papa, " said Ruth, moreeasily now. "She died four years ago. "

He nodded, looking away from her out of the window at thefast-darkening landscape which hurried by them. 

"And poor papa died last winter. I had no claim upon the kind friendswho helped me when he died, " pursued Ruth, bravely. "They wrote toUncle Jabez and he-- he said I could come and live with him and AuntAlvirah Boggs. "

In a flash the twinkle came back into his eyes, and he nodded again. 

"Ah, yes! Aunt Alviry, " he said, giving the name its old-fashioned, homely pronunciation. "I had forgotten Aunt Alviry, " and he seemedquite pleased to remember her. 

"She keeps house for Uncle Jabez, I understand, " Ruth continued. "Butshe isn't my aunt. "

"She is everybody's Aunt Alviry, I think, " said Doctor Davison, encouragingly. 

For some reason this made Ruth feel better. He spoke as though shewould love Aunt Alviry, and Ruth had left so many kind friends behindher in Darrowtown that she was glad to be assured that somebody in thenew home where she was going would be kind, too. 

Miss True Pettis had not shown her Uncle Jabez's letter and she hadfeared that perhaps her mother's uncle {whom she had never seen norknown much about) might not have written as kindly for his niece tocome to the Red Mill as Miss True could have wished. But Miss True waspoor; most of the Darrowtown friends had been poor people. Ruth hadfelt that she could not remain a burden on them. 

Somehow she did not have to explain all this to Doctor Davison. Heseemed to understand it when he nodded and his eyes twinkled soglowingly. 

"Cheslow is a pleasant town. You will like it, " he said, cheerfully. "The Red Mill is five miles out on the Lake Osago Road. It is a prettycountry. It will be dark when you ride over it to-night; but you willlike it when you see it by daylight. "

He took it for granted that Uncle Jabez would come to the station tomeet her with a carriage, and that comforted Ruth not a little. 

"You will pass my house on that road, " continued Doctor Davison. "Butwhen you come to town you must not pass it. "

"Sir?" she asked him, surprised. 

"Not without stopping to see me, " he explained, his eyes twinklingmore than ever. And then he left her and went back to his seat. 

But Ruth found, when he had gone, that the choke came back into herthroat again and the sting of unshed tears to her eyes. But she wouldnot let those same tears fall!

She stared out of the plate-glass window and saw that it was now quitedark. The whistle of the fast-flying locomotive shrieked itslong-drawn warning, and a group of signal lights flashed past. Thenshe heard the loud ringing of a gong at a grade crossing. They must benearing Cheslow now. 

And then she saw that they were on a curve quite a sharp curve, forshe saw the lights of the locomotive and the mail car far ahead uponthe gleaming rails. They began to slow down, too, and the wheelswailed under the pressure of the brakes. 

She could see the signal lights along the tracks ahead and then-- witha start, for she knew what it meant-- a sharp red flame appeared outof the darkness beyond the rushing engine pilot. 

Danger! That is what that red light meant. The brakes clamped downupon the wheels again so suddenly that the easily-riding coach jarredthrough all its parts. The red eye was winked out instantly; but thelong and heavy train came to an abrupt stop. 

 CHAPTER II

 RENO

But the Limited had stopped so that Ruth could see along the length ofthe train. Lanterns winked and blinked in the dark as the trainmencarried them forward. Something had happened up front of moreimportance than an ordinary halt for permission to run in on the nextblock. Besides, the afternoon Limited was a train of the first-classand was supposed to have the right of way over all other trains. Nosignal should have stopped it here. 

"How far are we from Cheslow, please?" she asked of the rear brakeman(whom she knew was called the flagman) as he came down the car withhis lantern. 

"Not above a mile, Miss, " he replied. 

His smile, and his way of speaking, encouraged her to ask:

"Can you tell me why we have stopped?"

"Something on the track, Miss. I have set out my signal lamp and amgoing forward to inquire. "

Three or four of the male passengers followed him out of the car. Ruthsaw that quite a number had disembarked from the cars ahead, that agoodly company was moving forward, and that there were ladies amongthe curious crowd. If it was perfectly safe for them to satisfy theircuriosity, why not she? She arose and hurried out of the car, following the swinging lamp of the brakeman as he strode on. 

Ruth ran a little, seeing well enough to pick her way over the ends ofthe ties, and arrived to find at least half a hundred people groupedon the track ahead of the locomotive pilot. The great, unblinking, white eye of the huge machine revealed the group clearly-- and theobject around which the curious passengers, as well as the train crew, had gathered. 

It was a dog-- a great, handsome, fawn-colored mastiff, sleek of coatand well fed, but muddied now along his flanks, evidently having wadedthrough the mire of the wet meadow beside the tracks. He had comeunder, or through, a barbed wire fence, too, for there was a longscratch upon his shoulder and another raw cut upon his muzzle. 

To his broad collar was fastened a red lamp. Nobody had taken it off, for both the train men and the passengers were excitedly discussingwhat his presence here might mean; and some of them seemed afraid ofthe great fellow. 

But Ruth had been used to dogs, and this noble looking fellow had noterrors for her. He seemed so woebegone, his great brown eyes pleadedso earnestly, that she could only pity and fondle him. 

"Look out, Miss; maybe he bites, " warned the anxious conductor. "Iwager this is some boy's trick to stop the train. And yet--"

Ruth bent down, still patting the dog's head, and turned the greatsilver plate on his collar so that she could read, in the light of thelanterns, that which was engraved upon it. She read the words aloud:

"'This is Reno, Tom Cameron's Dog. '"

"Cameron?" repeated some man behind her. "That Tom Cameron lives justoutside of Cheslow. His father is the rich dry-goods merchant, MacyCameron. What's his dog doing here?"

"And with a red light tied to his collar?" propounded somebody else. 

"It's some boy's trick, I tell you, " stormed the conductor. "I'll haveto report this at headquarters. "

Just then Ruth made a discovery. Wound about the collar was a bit oftwisted cloth-- a strip of linen-- part of a white handkerchief. Hernimble fingers unwound it quickly and she spread out the soiled rag. 

"Oh, see here!" she cried, in amazement as well as fear. "See! Whatcan it mean? See what's drawn on this cloth--"

It was a single word-- a word smeared across the rag in shaking, uneven letters:

"HELP!"

"By George!" exclaimed one of the brakemen. "The little girl's right. That spells 'Help!' plain enough. "

"It-- it is written in something red, sir, " cried Ruth, her voicetrembling. "See! It is blood!"

"I tell you we've wasted a lot of time here, " declared the conductor. "I am sorry if anybody is hurt, but we cannot stop for him. Get backto the cars, please, gentlemen. Do you belong aboard?" he added, toRuth. "Get aboard, if you do. "

"Oh, sir! You will not leave the poor dog here?" Ruth asked. 

"Not with that red lamp on his collar-- no!" exclaimed the conductor. "He will be fooling some other engineer--"

He reached to disentangle the wire from the dog's collar; but Renouttered a low growl. 

"Plague take the dog!" ejaculated the conductor, stepping backhastily. "Whoever it is that's hurt, or wherever he is, we cannot sendhim help from here. We'll report the circumstance at the CheslowStation. Put the dog in the baggage car. He can find the place wherehis master is hurt, from Cheslow as well as from here, it's likely. "

"You try to make him follow you, Miss, " added the conductor to Ruth. "He doesn't like me, it's plain. "

"Come here, Reno!" Ruth commanded. "Come here, old fellow. "

The big dog hesitated, stepped a yard or two after her, stopped, looked around and across the track toward the swamp meadow, andwhined. 

Ruth went back to him and put both arms about the noble fellow's neck. "Come, Reno, " she said "Come with me. We will go to find your masterby and by. "

She started for the cars again, with one hand on the dog's neck. Hetrotted meekly beside her with head hanging. At the open baggage-cardoor one of the brakemen lifted her in. 

"Come, Reno! Come up, sir!" she said, and the great mastiff, crouchingfor an instant, sprang into the car. 

Even before they were fairly aboard, the train started. They were lateenough, indeed! But the engineer dared not speed up much for that lastmile of the lap to Cheslow. There might be something ahead on thetrack. "

"You get out at Cheslow; don't you Miss?" asked the conductor. 

"Yes, sir, " returned Ruth, sitting down with an air of possession uponher old-fashioned cowhide trunk that had already been put out by thedoor ready for discharging at the next station. 

"And you were sitting in the last car. Have you a bag there?"

"Yes, sir, a small bag. That is all. "

"I'll send it forward to you, " he said, not unkindly, and bustledaway. 

And so Ruth Fielding was sitting on her own trunk, with her bag in herlap, and the great mastiff lying on the floor of the baggage carbeside her, when the train slowed down and stopped beside the Cheslowplatform. She had not expected to arrive just in this way at herjourney's end. 

 CHAPTER III

 WHAT HAS HAPPENED?

The baggage-car door was wheeled wide open again and the lamps on theplatform shone in. There was the forward brakeman to "jump" her downfrom the high doorway, and Reno, with the little red light still hungto his collar, bounded after her. 

The conductor bustled away to tell the station master about the dogwith the red light, and of the word scrawled on the cloth which Ruthhad found wound around his collar. Indeed, Ruth herself was veryanxious and very much excited regarding this mystery; but she wasanxious, too, about herself. Was Uncle Jabez here to meet her? Or hadhe sent somebody to take her to the Red Mill? He had been informed byMiss True Pettis the week before on which train to expect his niece. 

Carrying her bag and followed dejectedly by the huge mastiff, Ruthstarted down the long platform. The conductor ran out of the station, signalled the train crew with his hand, and lanterns waved the lengthof the train. Panting, with its huge springs squeaking, the locomotivestarted the string of cars. Faster and faster the train moved, andbefore Ruth reached the pent-house roof of the little brick station, the tail-lights of the last car had passed her. 

A short, bullet-headed old man, with close-cropped, whitish-yellowhair, atop of which was a boy's baseball cap, his face smoothly shavenand deeply lined, and the stain of tobacco at either corner of hismouth, was standing on the platform. He was not a nice looking old manat all, he was dressed in shabby and patched garments, and his littleeyes seemed so sly that they were even trying to hide from each otheron either side of a hawksbill nose. 

He began to eye Ruth curiously as the girl approached, and she, seeingthat he was the only person who gave her any attention, jumped to theconclusion that this was Uncle Jabez. The thought shocked her. Sheinstinctively feared and disliked this queer looking old man. The lumpin her throat that would not be swallowed almost choked her again, andshe winked her eyes fast to keep from crying. 

She would, in her fear and disappointment, have passed the old man bywithout speaking had he not stepped in front of her. 

"Where d'ye wanter go, Miss?" he whined, looking at her still moresharply out of his narrow eyes. "Yeou be a stranger here, eh?"

"Yes, sir, " admitted Ruth. 

"Where are you goin'?" asked the man again, and Ruth had enough Yankeeblood in her to answer the query by asking:

"Are you Mr. Jabez Potter?"

"Me Jabez Potter? Why, ef I was Jabe Potter I'd be owing myself money, that's what I'd be doin'. You warn't never lookin' for Jabe Potter?"

Much relieved, Ruth admitted the fact frankly. "He is my uncle, sir, "she said. "I am going to live at the Red Mill. "

The strange old man puckered up his lips into a whistle, and shook hishead, eyeing her all the time so slily that Ruth was more and morethankful that he had not proven to be Uncle Jabez. 

"Do you know Mr. Potter?" she asked, undecided what to do. 

"Do I know Jabe Potter?" repeated the man. "Well, I don't know muchgood of him, I assure ye! I worked for him onct, I did. And I tell yehe owes me money yet. You ax him if he don't owe Jasper Parloe money--you jest ax him!"

He began to get excited and did not seem at all inclined to step outof Ruth's path. But just then somebody spoke to her and she turned tosee the station master and two or three other men with him. 

"This is the girl Mr. Mason spoke to me about, isn't it?" the railroadman asked. "The conductor of the express, I mean. He said the dogwould mind you. "

"He seems to like me, " she replied, turning to the mastiff that hadstood all this time close to her. 

"That is Tom Cameron's dog all right, " said one of the other men. "Andthat lantern is off his motorcycle, I bet anything! He went throughtown about dark on that contraption, and I shouldn't wonder if he'sgot a tumble. "

Ruth showed the station master, whose name was Curtis, the bit ofhandkerchief with the appeal for help traced upon it. 

"That is blood, " she said. "You see it's blood, don't you? Can'tsomebody take Reno and hunt for him? He must be very badly hurt. "

"Mason said he expected it was nothing but some fool joke of the boys. But it doesn't look like a joke to me, " Mr. Curtis said, gravely. "Come, Parloe, you know that patch of woods well enough, over beyondthe swamp and Hiram Jennings' big field. Isn't there a steep and rockyroad down there, that shoots off the Osago Lake pike?"

"The Wilkins Corners road-- yep, " said the old man, snappishly. 

"Then, can't you take the dog and see if you can find young Tom?"

"Who's going to pay me for it?" snarled Jasper Parloe. "I ain't got nolove for them Camerons. This here Tom is as sassy a boy as there is inthis county. "

"But he may be seriously hurt, " said Ruth, looking angrily at JasperParloe. 

"'Tain't nothin' to me-- no more than your goin' out ter live withJabe Potter ain't nothin' to me, " responded the old man, with an uglygrin. 

"You're a pretty fellow, you are, Jasper!" exclaimed Mr. Curtis, andturned his back upon the fellow. "I can't leave the station now-- Ah!here's Doctor Davison. He'll know what to do. "

Doctor Davison came forward and put his hand upon Ruth's shoulder mostkindly. "What is all this?" he asked. "And there is the mastiff. Theytell me you are a dog tamer, Miss Fielding. "

He listened very closely to what Mr. Curtis had to say, and looked, too, at the smeared handkerchief. 

"The dog can find him-- no doubt of that. Come, boys, get somelanterns and we'll go right along to the Wilkins Corners road andsearch it. " Then to Ruth he said: "You are a brave girl, sure enough. "

But when the party was ready to start, half a dozen strong, withParloe trailing on behind, and with lanterns and a stretcher, Renowould not budge. The man called him, but he looked up at Ruth and didnot move from her side. 

"I declare for't, " exclaimed one man. "That girl will have to go withus, Doctor Davison. You see what the dog means to do. "

Ruth spoke to the mastiff, commanded him to leave her and find "Tom. "But although the dog looked at her intelligently enough, and barkedhis response-- a deep, sudden, explosive bark-- he refused to startwithout her. 

"It's a long way for the girl, " objected Doctor Davison. "Besides, sheis waiting to meet her uncle. "

"I am not tired, " she told him, quickly. "Remember I've been sittingall the afternoon. And perhaps every minute is precious. We don't knowhow badly the dog's master may be hurt. I'll go. I'm sure I can keepup with you. "

Reno seemed to understand her words perfectly, and uttered anothershort, sharp bark. 

"Let us go, then, " said Doctor Davison, hurriedly. 

So the men picked up their lanterns and the stretcher again. Theycrossed the tracks and came to a street that soon became a countryroad. Cheslow did not spread itself very far in this direction. DoctorDavison explained to Ruth that the settlement had begun to grow in theparts beyond the railroad and that all this side of the tracks wasconsidered the old part of the town. 

The street lights were soon behind them and they depended entirelyupon the lanterns the men carried. Ruth could see very little of thehouses they passed; but at one spot-- although it was on the otherside of the road-- there were two green lanterns, one on either sideof an arched gate, and there seemed to be a rather large, but gloomy, house behind the hedge before which these lanterns burned. 

"You will always know my house, " Doctor Davison said, softly, andstill retaining her hand, "by its green eyes. "

So Ruth knew she had passed his home, to which he had so kindlyinvited her. And that made her think for a moment about Uncle Jabezand Aunt Alvirah. Would she find somebody waiting to take her to theRed Mill when she got back to the station?

 CHAPTER IV

 THE GATE OF THE GREEN EYES

It was a dark lane, beneath overhanging oaks, that met and intertwinedtheir branches from either side-- this was the Wilkins Corners road. And it was very steep and stony-- up hill and down dale-- with deepruts in places and other spots where the Spring rains had washed outthe gravel and sand and left exposed the very foundations of theworld. 

It seemed as though no bicyclist, or motor-cyclist would have chosenthis road to travel after dark. Yet there was a narrow path at theside-- just wide enough for Ruth and Doctor Davison to walk abreast, and Reno to trot by the girl's side which seemed pretty smooth. 

"We don't want to go by the spot, Doctor, " said one of the men walkingahead with the lights. "Don't the dog show no signs of looking forTom?"

"Where's Tom, Reno? Where's Tom?" asked Ruth, earnestly, believingthat the dog would recognize his master's name. 

The mastiff raised his muzzle and barked sharply again, but trottedonward. 

"He might have fallen down any of these gullies, and we'd miss him, it's so dark, " observed the previous speaker. 

"I don't believe the dog will miss the place, " responded DoctorDavison. 

Just then Reno leaped forward with a long-drawn whine. Ruth hurriedwith him, leaving the doctor to come on in the rear. Reno took thelead and the girl tried to keep pace with him. 

It was not for many yards. Reno stopped at the brink of a steep bankbeside the road. This bank fell away into the darkness, but throughthe trees, in the far distance, the girl could see several twinklinglights in a row. She knew that they were on the railroad, and that shewas looking across the great swamp-meadow. 

"Hullo!" shouted one man, loudly. "Something down there, old fellow?"

Reno answered with a short bark and began to scramble down the roughbank. 

"Here's where somebody has gone down ahead of him, " cried another ofthe searchers, holding his own lantern close to the ground. "See howthe bank's all torn up? Bet his wheel hit that stone yonder in thedusk and threw him, wheel and all, into this gulley. "

"Wait here, child, " ordered Doctor Davison, quickly. "If he is in badshape, boys, call me and I'll come down. Lift him carefully--"

"He's here, sir!" cried the first man to descend. 

And then Reno lifted up his voice in a mournful howl. 

"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" murmured Ruth. "I am afraid he is badly hurt. "

"Come, come!" returned Doctor Davison. "Be a brave girl now. If he isbadly hurt he'll need us both to keep our wits about us, you know. "

"Ye needn't fret none, leetle gal, " said Jasper Parloe's voice, behindher. "Ye couldn't kill that there Cameron boy, I tell ye! He is assassy a young'un as there is in this county. "

Doctor Davison turned as though to say something sharp to the mean oldman; but just then the men below shouted up to him:

"He's hit his head and his arm's twisted under him, Doctor. He isn'tconscious, but doesn't seem much hurt otherwise. "

"Can you bring him up?" queried the physician. 

"That's what we mean to do, " was the reply. 

Ruth waited beside the old doctor, not without some apprehension. Howwould this Tom Cameron look? What kind of a boy was he? According toJasper Parloe he was a very bad boy, indeed. She had heard that he wasthe son of a rich man. While the men were bringing the senseless bodyup the steep bank her mind ran riot with the possibilities that lay instore for her because of this accident to the dry-goods merchant'sson. 

And now the bearers were at the top of the bank, and she could see thelimp form borne by them-- a man holding the body under the arms andanother by his feet. But, altogether, it looked really as though theycarried a limp sack between them. 

"Fust time I ever see that boy still, " murmured Jasper Parloe. 

"Cracky! He's pale; ain't he?" said another man. 

Doctor Davison dropped on one knee beside the body as they laid itdown. The lanterns were drawn together that their combined light mightilluminate the spot. Ruth saw that the figure was that of a youth notmuch older than herself-- lean, long limbed, well dressed, and with aface that, had it not been so pale, she would have thought very nicelooking indeed. 

"Poor lad!" Ruth heard the physician murmur. "He has had a hard fall--and that's a nasty knock on his head. "

The wound was upon the side of his head above the left ear and was nowall clotted with blood. It was from this wound, in some moment ofconsciousness, that he had traced the word "Help" on his tornhandkerchief, and fastened the latter, with the lamp of hismotorcycle, to the dog's collar. 

Here was the machine, bent and twisted enough, brought up the bank bytwo of the men. 

"Dunno what you can do for the boy, Doctor, " said one of them; "but itlooks to me as though this contraption warn't scurcely wuth savin'. "

"Oh, we'll bring the boy around all right, " said Doctor Davison, whohad felt Tom Cameron's pulse and now rose quickly. "Lift him carefullyupon the stretcher. We will get him into bed before I do a thing tohim. He's best as he is while we are moving him. "

"It'll be a mighty long way to his house, " grumbled one of the men. 

"I believe yeou!" rejoined Jasper Parloe. "Three miles beyond JabePotter's mill. "

"Pshaw!" exclaimed Doctor Davison, in his soft voice. "You know we'llnot take him so far. My house is near enough. Surely you can carry himthere. "

"If you say the word, Doctor, " said the fellow, more cheerfully, whileold Parloe grunted. 

They were more than half an hour in getting to the turn in the mainroad where she could observe the two green lights before the doctor'shouse. There the men put the stretcher down for a moment. JasperParloe grumblingly took his turn at carrying one end. 

"I never did see the use of boys, noway, " he growled. "They's only anaggravation and vexation of speret. And this here one is theaggravatingest and vexationingest of any I ever see. "

"Don't be too hard on the boy, Jasper, " said Doctor Davison, passingon ahead, so as to reach his house first. 

Ruth remained behind, for the old gentleman walked too fast for her. Before the men picked up the stretcher again there was a movement anda murmur from the injured boy. 

"Hullo!" said one of the men. "He's a-talkin', ain't he?"

"Jest mutterin', " said Parloe, who was at Tom's head. "'Tain't nothi

But Ruth heard the murmur of the unconscious boy, and the wordsstartled her. They were:

"It was Jabe Potter-- he did it! It was Jabe Potter-- he did it!"

What did they mean? Or, was there no meaning at all to the mutteringof the wounded boy? Ruth saw that Parloe was looking at her in his slyand disagreeable way, and she knew that he, too, had heard the words. 

"It was Jabe Potter-- he did it!" Was it an accusation referring tothe boy's present plight? And how could her Uncle Jabez-- the relativeshe had not as yet seen-- be the cause of Tom Cameron's injury? Thespot where the boy was hurt must have been five miles from the RedMill, and not even on the Osago Lake turnpike, on which highway shehad been given to understand the Red Mill stood. 

Not many moments more and the little procession was at the gateway, oneither side of which burned the two green lamps. 

Jasper Parloe, who had been relieved, shuffled off into the darkness. Reno after one pleading look into the face of the hesitating Ruth, followed the stretcher on which his master lay, in at the gate. 

And Ruth Fielding, beginning again to feel most embarrassed andforsaken, was left alone where the two green eyes winked in the warm, moist darkness of the Spring night. 

 CHAPTER V

 THE GIRL IN THE AUTOMOBILE

The men who had gone in with the unconscious boy and the stretcherhung about the doctor's door, which was some yards from the gateway. Everybody seemed to have forgotten the girl, a stranger in Cheslow, and for the first day of her life away from kind and indulgentfriends. 

It was only ten minutes walk to the railroad station, and Ruthremembered that it was a straight road. She arrived in the waitingroom safely enough. Sam Curtis, the station master, descried herimmediately and came out of his office with her bag. 

"Well, and what happened? Is that boy really hurt?" he asked. 

"He has a broken arm and his head is cut. I do not know how seriously, for Doctor Davison had not finished examining him when I-- I cameaway, " she replied, bravely enough, and hiding the fact that she hadbeen overlooked. 

"They took him to the doctor's house, did they?" asked Sam. 

"Yes, sir, " said Ruth. "But--"

"Mr. Curtis, has there been anybody here for me?"

"For you, Miss?" the station master returned, somewhat surprised itseemed. 

"Yes, sir. Anybody from Red Mill?"

Curtis smote one fist into his other palm, exclaiming:

"You don't mean to say that you was what Jabe Potter was after?"

"Mr. Jabez Potter, who keeps the Red Mill, is my uncle, " Ruthobserved, with dignity. 

"My goodness gracious me, Miss! He was here long before your train wasdue. He's kind of short in his speech, Miss. And he asked me if therewas anything here for him, and I told him no. And he stumped out againwithout another word. Why, I thought he was looking for an expresspackage, or freight. Never had an idea he was expectin' a niece!"

Ruth still looked at him earnestly. The man did not suspect, by herappearance, how hard a time she was having to keep the tears fromoverrunning those calm, gray eyes. 

"And you expected to go out to the Red Mill to-night, Miss?" hecontinued. "They're country folk out there and they'd all be abedbefore you could get there, even if you took a carriage. "

"I don't know that I have enough to pay for carriage hire, " Ruth said, softly. "Is-- is there any place I can stop over night in the village?Then I can walk out in the morning. "

"Why-- there's a hotel. But a young girl like you-- You'll excuse me, Miss. You're young to be traveling alone. "

"Perhaps I haven't money enough to pay for a lodging there?" suggestedRuth. "I have a dollar. It was given me to spend as I liked on theway. But Miss True gave me such a big box of luncheon that I did notwant anything. "

"A dollar wouldn't go far at the Brick Hotel, " murmured the stationagent. He still stared at her, stroking his lean, shaven jaw. Finallyhe burst out with: "I tell you! We'll go home and see what my wifesays. "

At the moment the station began to jar with the thunder of a comingtrain and Ruth could not make herself heard in reply to his proposal. Besides, Sam Curtis hurried out on the platform. Nor was Ruth ready toassert her independence and refuse any kind of help the station mastermight offer. So she sat down patiently and waited for him. 

There were one or two passengers only to disembark from this train andthey went away from the station without even coming into the waitingroom. Then Curtis came back, putting out the lights and locking histicket office. The baggage room was already locked and Ruth's oldtrunk was in it. 

"Come on now, girl-- What's your name?" asked Curtis. 

"Ruth Fielding. "

"Just so! Well, it's only a step to our house and wife will havesupper waiting. And there's nobody else there save Mercy. "

Ruth was a little curious about "Mercy"-- whether it referred toabounding grace, or was a person's name. But she asked no questions asthey came out of the railroad station and Sam Curtis locked the door. 

They did not cross the tracks this time, but went into the new part ofthe town. Turning a corner very soon as they walked up what Curtissaid was Market Street, they reached, on a narrow side street, alittle, warm-looking cottage, from almost all the lower windows ofwhich the lamplight shone cheerfully. There was a garden beside it, with a big grape arbor arranged like a summer-house with rustic chairsand a table. The light shining on the side porch revealed the arbor toRuth's quick eyes. 

When they stepped upon this porch Ruth heard a very shrill and not atall pleasant voice saying-- very rapidly, and over and over again: "Idon't want to! I don't want to! I don't want to!" It might have been aparrot, or some other ill-natured talking bird; only Ruth saw nothingof the feathered conversationalist when Sam opened the door andushered her in. 

"Here we are, wife!" he exclaimed, cheerfully. "And how's Mercy?"

The reiterated declaration had stopped instantly. A comely, kind-facedwoman with snow-white hair, came forward. Ruth saw that she was someyears younger than Curtis, and he was not yet forty. It was not FatherTime that had powdered Mrs. Curtis' head so thickly. 

"Mercy is-- Why, who's this?" she asked espying Ruth. "One of thegirls come in to see her?"

Instantly the same whining, shrill voice began:

"I don't want her to see me! They come to stare at me! I hate 'em all!All girls do is to run and jump and play tag and ring-around-a-rosyand run errands, and dance! I hate 'em!"

This was said very, very fast-- almost chattered; and it sounded soill-natured, so impatient, so altogether mean and hateful, that Ruthfell back a step, almost afraid to enter the pleasant room. But thenshe saw the white-haired lady's face, and it was so grieved, yetlooked such a warm welcome to her, that she took heart and steppedfarther in, so that Sam Curtis could shut the door, The father appeared to pay no attention to the fault-finding, shrilldeclamation of the unhappy voice. He said, in explanation, to hiswife:

"This is Ruth Fielding. She has come a long. Way by train to-day, expecting to meet her uncle, old Jabe Potter of the Red Mill. And youknow how funny Jabe is, wife? He came before the train, and did notwait, but drove right away with his mules and so there was nobody hereto meet Ruthie. She's marooned here till the morning, you see. "

"Then she shall stay with us to-night, " declared Mrs. Curtis, quickly. 

"I don't want her to stay here to-night!" ejaculated the same shrillvoice. 

Mr. And Mrs. Curtis paid no attention to what was said by thismysterious third party. Ruth, coming farther into the room, found thatit was large and pleasant. There was a comfortable look about it all. The supper table was set and the door was opened into the warmkitchen, from which delicious odors of tea and toast with some warmdish of meat, were wafted in. But the shrill and complaining voice hadnot come from the next room. 

In the other corner beside the stove, yet not too near it, stood asmall canopy bed with the pretty chintz curtains drawn all about it. Beside it stood a wheel-chair such as Ruth knew was used by invalidswho could not walk. It was a tiny chair, too, and it and the small bedwent together. But of the occupant of either she saw not a sign. 

"Supper will be ready just as soon as our guest has a chance to removethe traces of travel, Sam, " said Mrs. Curtis, briskly. "Come with me, Ruth. "

When they returned from the pleasant little bed-chamber which thegood-hearted lady told Ruth was to be her own for that night, theyheard voices in the sitting room-- the voice of Mr. Curtis and thequerulous one. But it was not so sharp and strained as it seemedbefore. However, on opening the door, Mr. Curtis was revealed sittingalone and there was no sign of the owner of the sharp voice, whichRuth supposed must belong to the invalid. 

"Mercy has had her supper; hasn't she, wife?" said the station masteras he drew his chair to the table and motioned Ruth to the extra placeMrs. Curtis had set. 

The woman nodded and went briskly about putting the supper on thetable. While they ate Mr. Curtis told about Reno stopping the train, and of the search for and recovery of the injured Cameron boy. All thetime Ruth, who sat sideways to the canopied bed, realized that thecurtains at the foot were drawn apart just a crack and that two verybright, pin-point eyes were watching her. So interested did these eyesbecome as the story progressed, and Ruth answered questions, that moreof Mercy Curtis' face was revealed-- a sharp, worn little face, with apeaked chin and pale, thin cheeks. 

Ruth was very tired when supper was ended and the kind Mrs. Curtissuggested that she go to bed and obtain a good night's rest if she wasto walk to the Red Mill in the morning. But even when she bade herentertainers good-night she did not see the child in the canopy bedand she felt diffident about asking Mrs. Curtis about her. The youngtraveler slept soundly-- almost from the moment her head touched thepillow. Yet her last thought was of Uncle Jabez. He had been in townsome time before the train on which she arrived was due and had drivenaway from the station with his mules, Mr. Curtis said. Had he drivenover that dark and dangerous road on which Tom Cameron met with hisaccident, and had he run down the injured boy, or forced him over thebank of the deep gully where they had found Tom lying unconscious?

"It was Jabe Potter-- he did it, " the injured lad had murmured, andthese words were woven in the pattern of Ruth's dreams all night. 

The little cottage was astir early and Ruth was no laggard. She camedown to breakfast while the sun was just peeping above the house-topsand as she entered the sitting room she found an occupant at last inthe little wheel-chair. It was the sharp, pale little face thatconfronted her above the warm wrapper and the rug that covered thelower part of the child's body; for child Mercy Curtis was, and littleolder than Ruth herself, although her face seemed so old. 

To Ruth's surprise the first greeting of the invalid was a mostill-natured one. She made a very unpleasant face at the visitor, ranout her tongue, and then said, in her shrill, discordant voice:

"I don't like you at all-- I tell you that, Miss!"

"I am sorry you do not like me, " replied Ruth, gently. "I think Ishould like you if you'd let me. "

"Yah!" ejaculated the very unpleasant, but much to be pitied invalid. 

The mother and father ignored all this ill-nature on the part of thelame girl and were as kind and friendly with their visitor as they hadbeen on the previous evening. Once during breakfast time (Mercy tookhers from a tray that was fastened to her chair before her) the childburst out again, speaking to Ruth. There were eggs on the table and, pointing to the golden-brown fried egg that Mrs. Curtis had justplaced upon Ruth's plate, Mercy snapped:

"Do you know what's the worst wish I'd wish on My Enemy?"

Ruth looked her astonishment and hesitated to reply. But Mercy did notexpect a reply, for she continued quickly:

"I'd wish My Enemy to have to eat every morning for breakfast two softfried eggs with his best clothes on-- that's what I'd wish!"

And this is every word she would say to the visitor while Ruthremained. But Mr. Curtis bade Ruth good-bye very kindly when hehurried away to the station, and Mrs. Curtis urged her to come and seethem whenever she came to town after getting settled at the Red Mill. 

It was a fresh and lovely morning, although to the weather-wise thehaze in the West foredoomed the end of the day to disaster. Ruth feltmore cheerful as she crossed the railroad tracks and struck into thesame street she had followed with the searching party the eveningbefore. She could not mistake Doctor Davison's house when she passedit, and there was a fine big automobile standing before the gate wherethe two green lanterns were. But there was nobody in the car, nor didshe see anybody about the doctor's house. 

Beyond the doctor's abode the houses were far apart-- farther andfarther apart as she trudged on. Nobody noticed or spoke to the girlas she went on with her small bag-- the bag that grew heavy, despiteits smallness, as she progressed. And so she traveled two miles, ormore, along the pleasant road. Then she heard the purring of anautomobile behind her-- the first vehicle that she had seen sinceleaving town. 

It was the big gray car that had been standing before Doctor Davison'shouse when she had passed, and Ruth would have known the girl who satat the steering wheel and was driving the car alone, even had Reno, the big mastiff, not sat in great dignity on the seat beside her. Forno girl could look so much like Tom Cameron without being TomCameron's sister. 

And the girl, the moment she saw Ruth on the road, retarded the speedof the machine. Reno, too, lost all semblance of dignity and would notwait for the car to completely stop before bounding into the road andcoming to caress her hand. 

"I know who you are!" cried the girl in the automobile. "You are RuthFielding. "

She was a brilliant, black-eyed, vivacious girl, perhaps a year ormore older than Ruth, and really handsome, having her brother's olivecomplexion with plenty of color in cheeks and lips. And that hernature was impulsive and frank there could be no doubt, for sheimmediately leaped out of the automobile, when it had stopped, and ranto embrace Ruth. 

"Thank you! thank you!" she cried. "Doctor Davison has told us allabout you-- and how brave you are! And see how fond Reno is of you! Heknows who found his master; don't you, Reno?"

"Oh, dear me, " said Ruth, breathlessly, "Doctor Davison has been tookind. I did nothing at all toward finding your brother-- I suppose heis your brother, Miss?"

"How dare you 'Miss' me?" demanded the other girl, hugging her again. "You're a dear; I knew you must be! And I was running back andintended to stop at the Red Mill to see you. I took father to townthis morning, as he had to take an early train to the city, and wewished to see Tom again, "

"He-- he isn't badly hurt, then-- your brother, I mean?" said Ruth, timidly. 

"He is going to stay at the doctor's to-day, and then he can comehome. But he will carry his arm in a sling for a while, although nobone was broken, after all. His head is badly cut, but his hair willhide that. Poor Tom! he is always falling down, or getting bumped, orsomething. And he's just as reckless as he can be. Father says he isnot to be trusted with the car as much as I am. "

"How-- how did he come to fall over that bank?" asked Ruth, anxiously. 

"Why-- it was dark, I suppose. That was the way of it. I don't know ashe really told me what made him do such a foolish thing. And wasn't itlucky Reno was along with him?" cried Tom's sister. 

"Now, I see you remained in town over night. They thought somebody hadcome for yon and taken you out to the mill. Is Jabez Potter reallyyour uncle?"

"Yes. He was my mother's uncle. And I have no other relative. "

"Well, dear, I am more than sorry for you, " declared the girl from theautomobile. "And now we will climb right in and I'll take you along tothe mill. "

But whether she was sorry for Ruth Fielding's friendlessness, or sorrybecause she was related to Jabez Potter, the young traveler could notdecide. 

 CHAPTER VI

 THE RED MILL

"Now, my name's Helen, and you are Ruth, " declared Miss Cameron, whenshe had carefully started the car once more. "We are going to be thevery best of friends, and we might as well begin by telling each otherall about ourselves. Tom and I are twins and he is an awful tease!But, then, boys are. He is a good brother generally. We live in thefirst yellow house on the right-- up among the trees-- beyond Mr. Potter's mill-- near enough so that we can run back and forth and seeeach other just lots. "

Ruth found herself warmly drawn toward this vivacious miss. Nor wasshe less frank in giving information about herself, her old home, inDarrowtown, that she still wore black for her father, and that she hadbeen sent by her friends to Uncle Jabez because he was supposed to bebetter able to take care of and educate her. Helen listened veryearnestly to the tale, but she shook her head at the end of it. 

"I don't know, " she said. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, Ruthie. But Jabez Potter isn't liked very well by people in general, althoughI guess he is a good miller. He is stingy--"

I must say it. He isn't given to kind actions, and I am surprised thathe should have agreed to take and educate you. Of course, he didn'thave to. "

"I don't suppose he did have to, " Ruth said, slowly. "And it wasn't asthough I couldn't have remained in Darrowtown. But Miss True Pettis--"

"Miss True?" repeated Helen, curiously. 

"Short for Truthful. Her name is Rechelsea Truthful Tomlinson Pettisand she is the dearest little old spinster lady-- much nicer than hername. "

"Well!" ejaculated the amazed Helen. 

"Miss True isn't rich. Indeed, she is very poor. So are Patsy Hope'sfolks-- Patsy is really Patricia, but that's too long for her. And allthe other folks that knew me about Darrowtown had a hard time to getalong, and most of them had plenty of children without taking anotherthat wasn't any kin to them, " concluded Ruth, who was worldly wise insome things, and had seen the harder side of life since she had openedher eyes upon this world. 

"But your uncle is said to be a regular miser, " declared Helen, earnestly. "And he is so gruff and grim! Didn't your friends knowhim?"

"I guess they never saw him, or heard much about him, " said Ruth, slowly. "I'm sure I never did myself. "

"But don't you be afraid, " said the other, warmly. "If he isn't goodto you there are friends enough here to look out for you. I knowDoctor Davison thinks you are very brave, and Daddy will do anythingfor you that Tom and I ask him to. "

"I am quite sure I shall get on nicely with Uncle Jabez, " she said. "And then, there is Aunt Alvirah. "

"Oh, yes. There is an old lady who keeps house for Mr. Potter. And sheseems kind enough, too. But she acts afraid of Mr. Potter. I don'tblame her, he is so grim. "

The automobile, wheeling so smoothly over the hard pike, just then wasmounting a little hill. They came over the summit of this and there, lying before them, was the beautiful slope of farming country down tothe very bank of the Lumano River. Fenced fields, tilled and untilled, checkered the slope, with here and there a white farmhouse with itsgroup of outbuildings. There was no hamlet in sight, merely scatteredfarms. The river, swollen and yellow with the Spring rains, swept uponits bosom fence rails, hen-coops, and other flotsam of a Spring flood. Yonder, at a crossing, part of the bridge had been carried away. 

"If the dam at Minturn goes, we shall be flooded all through this lowland again, " Helen Cameron explained. "I remember seeing this valleycovered with water once during the Spring. But we live on the shoulderof Mount Burgoyne, and you see, even the mill sets on quite highground. "

Ruth's eyes had already seen and lingered upon the mill. It was arambling structure, the great, splashing millwheel at the far end, thelong warehouse in the middle, and the dwelling attached to the otherend. There were barns, corn-cribs and other outbuildings as well, andsome little tillable land connected with the mill; and all thebuildings were vividly painted with red mineral paint, trimmed withwhite. So bright and sparkling was the paint that it seemed to havebeen put on over night. 

"Mr. Potter is considered a good miller, " said Helen, again; "and hedoes not neglect his property. He is not miserly in that way. Thereisn't a picket off the fence, or a hinge loose anywhere. He isn't atall what you consider a miser must be and look like; yet he is alwayshoarding money and never spends any. But indeed I do not tell you thisto trouble you, Ruthie. I want you to believe, my dear, that if youcan't stand it at Mr. Potter's you can stand it at Mr. Cameron's-- andyou'll be welcome there. 

"Our mother is dead. We talk of her a good deal, just as though shewere living and had gone on a little journey somewhere, and we shouldsee her again soon. God took her when Tom and I were only a few weeksold; but Daddy has made himself our playfellow and dear, dear friend;and there has always been Nurse Babette and Mrs. Murchiston-- atleast, Mrs. Murchiston has been with us since we can remember. Butwhat Daddy says is law, and he said this morning that he'd like tohave a girl like you come to our house to be company for me. It getslonely for me sometimes, you see, for Tom doesn't want to play withgirls much, now he is so big. Perhaps next fall I'll go away toboarding school-- won't that be fun?"

"It will be fun for you, I hope, Helen, " said Ruth, with rather awistful smile. "I don't know where I shall go to school. "

"There is your uncle now!" exclaimed Miss Cameron. "See that man inthe old dusty suit?"

Ruth had already seen the tall, stoop-shouldered figure, who looked asthough he had been powdered with flour, coming down the short pathfrom one of the open doors of the mill to the road, where a little, one horse wagon stood. He bore a bag of meal or flour on his shoulderwhich he pitched into the wagon. The man on the seat was speaking asthe automobile came to a stop immediately behind the wagon. 

"Jefers pelters! Ef there's one thing yeou know how to do, it's totake toll, Jabe. Let the flour be poor, or good, there's little enoughof it comes back to the man that raises the wheat. "

"You don't have to bring your wheat here, Jasper Parloe, " said themiller, in a strong, harsh voice. "There is no law compels ye. "

"Yah!" snarled old Parloe. "We all know ye, Jabe Potter. We know whatye be. " Potter turned away. He had not noticed the two girls in theautomobile. But now Jasper Parloe saw them. "Ho!" he cried, "here'ssomebody else that will l'arn ter know ye, too. Didn't know you waster hev comp'ny; did ye, Jabe? Here's yer niece, Jabe, come ter liveon ye an' be an expense to ye, " and so, chuckling and screwing up hismean, sly face, Parloe drove on, leaving the miller standing with armsakimbo, and staring at Ruth, who was slowly alighting from theautomobile with her bag. 

Helen squeezed her hand tightly as she got out "Don't forget that weare your friends, Ruthie, " she whispered. "I'm coming by again thisafternoon when I drive over to the station for father. If-- ifanything happens you be out here-- now remember!"

What could possibly happen to her, Ruth could not imagine. She was notreally afraid of Uncle Jabez. She walked directly to him, as he stoodthere, staring gloomily, in front of the Red Mill. He was not onlytall and stoop-shouldered, and very dusty; but his dusty eyebrowsalmost met over his light blue eyes. He was lantern-jawed, and it didseem as though his dry, shaven lips had never in all his life wrinkledinto a smile. His throat was wrinkled and scraggy and his head wasplainly very bald on top, for the miller's cap he wore did notentirely cover the bald spot. 

"I am Ruth Fielding, from Darrowtown, " she said, in a voice that shecontrolled well. "I have come to-- to live with you, Uncle Jabez. "

"Where was you last night?" demanded the miller, without so much asreturning her greeting. "Was you with them Camerons?"

"I stayed all night with the station master, " she said, inexplanation. 

"What time did you get to the station?"

Ruth told him. Never once did his voice change or his grim look relax. 

"I mistook the time of the train, " he said, without expressing anysorrow. 

"I-- I hope you will be glad to have me come, " the said. "Miss True--"

"You mean that old maid that wrote to me?" he asked, harshly. 

"Miss True Pettis. She said she thought you would like to have me hereas we were so near related. "

"Not so near related as some, " was all he said in reply to this. Aftera moment, he added: "You can go along to the house yonder. Aunt Alvirywill show you what to do. "

Ruth could not have said another word just then without breaking downand weeping, so she only nodded and turned to walk up a path towardthe house door. 

"One thing, " urged the old man, before she had gone far. She turned tolook at him and he continued: "One thing I want you to understand, ifyou live here you have got to work. I don't like no laggards aroundme. "

She could only nod again, for her heart seemed to be right in herthroat, and the sting of the tears she wanted to shed, but could not, almost blinded her as she went on slowly to the house door. 

 CHAPTER VII

 AUNT ALVIRAH'S BACK AND BONES

Ruth came to the kitchen door and found that the lower half wasclosed; but she could see over the upper panel that had been flungwide to let in the sweet Spring air and sunlight. A little old womanwas stooping to brush the rag carpet with a whisk broom and dustpan, and as she hobbled around the big stove and around the table, whichwas already set neatly for dinner, she was crooning to herself:

"Oh, my back and oh, my bones ! Oh, my back and oh, my bones!"

She was a very neat-looking old lady, with a kerchief crossed on herbreast in the style of the old-fashioned Quakeresses. She was not muchtaller than Ruth herself, for when she stood upright-- or as uprightas she could stand-- her eyes were just about on a level with Ruth'seyes looking in over the half door. 

But the face of the old lady seemed, to the lonely, tear-filled girl, almost the gentlest, sweetest face she had ever seen, as it slowlysmiled upon her. Aunt Alviry's welcome was like the daybreak. 

"Bless us and save us!" ejaculated she, rising upright by degrees withher hand upon the back she had been apostrophizing. "If here isn't apretty little creeter come to see her Aunt Alviry. How-de-do, girl?"

Ruth had set down her bag. Now she opened the door and stepped in. Thesmile of the old lady broke down every bit of fortitude the girl hadleft and she walked directly into Aunt Alviry's arms and burst intotears. 

"There! there! Deary, deary me!" murmured the little old lady, pattingher shoulder. "Somebody has been treating you badly, I know. Andyou've come right to your Aunt Alviry for comfort. And you've come tothe right place, my pretty girl, for I've got tons of comfort for ye. "

She found a chair and lowered herself into it, not without the formulawhich Ruth had heard before, of "Oh, my back and oh, my bones!" Ruthdropped on her knees before her, hid her face in the old lady's lap, and had her cry out. Meanwhile Aunt Alvirah seemed to have taken inseveral things about her guest that were significant. She touched thestuff of which Ruth's gown was made, and nodded; even the blackhair-ribbon did not go unnoticed. 

"Now, " said Ruth, rising after a few moments, "I guess that's all ofthat foolishness. I-- I don't usually cry, Aunt Alvirah. "

"Pshaw, now! I could tell that, " said the old lady, comfortably. 

"I am going right to work to help you, " said the girl. "I can stoopbetter than you can. "

"I expect you can, you pretty creeter, " admitted the old lady. 

Ruth had already taken the brush and pan and was at work upon thefloor. The lady said: "You ain't familiar to me, child. You've lostsome folks lately, I see. Do you live 'round here?"

The little girl stopped and looked up at her in surprise. "Why, don'tyou know about it?" she cried. 

"Know about what, child?"

"Didn't you know I had come here to live with you?"

"Bless us and save us!" ejaculated Aunt Alvirah. "How did thathappen?"

"Didn't my uncle tell you?" cried Ruth, much more surprised than theold lady. 

"Who's your uncle, child?"

"Why, Mr. Potter-- Uncle Jabez. "

So astonished did the old lady appear to be that she started from herchair and her ejaculation was changed to a moan of pain as shemurmured her old formula: "Oh, my back and oh, my bones!"

"Jabez ain't said a word to me about it. Why should he take anybody tohelp me? Is he struck with the fear o' his latter end?"

She said this in no cross-grained way, but because she was so amazed. She likewise stared harder and harder at her visitor. 

"You ain't come from the poor farm, child?" she asked, finally. 

The flush upon Ruth's cheek and the expression which came into herface told Aunt Alviry that she was wrong there. 

"Not that you look like poorhouse breed-- not at all. You're toopretty dressed and you're too well fed. I know what they be there, forI have been there myself. Yes, ma'am! Jabez Potter came after me tothe poor farm. I was sickly, too. There's them that said he went toDoctor Davison first to find out if I was goin' to git well before hecome arter me; but Jabez ain't never treated me noways but kind. Starnhe is-- by natur and by practice; an' clost he is in money matters. But he's been good to an old woman without a home who warn't neitherkith nor kin to him. "

Ruth listened to the first good word she had heard of Uncle Jabez, andthe speech comforted her somewhat. Perhaps there was something betterwithin the rough husk of Uncle Jabez, after all. 

"I did not live near here, " Ruth said, quietly. "But my papa and mamadid. I came from Darrowtown. "

Aunt Alviry opened wide her bright brown eyes, and still stared inwonder. 

"My mother's name was Mary Potter, and she was Mr. Potter's niece. Sohe is my great-uncle. "

"Bless us and save us!" ejaculated Aunt Alviry, again, shaking herhead. "I never heard a word of it-- never! I 'member Mary Potter, anda sweet, pretty child she was. But Jabez never had no fondness for anyof his kin. You-- you are all alone in the world, child?"

"All alone save for Uncle Jabez. "

She had come near to the old woman again. As she dropped quietly onher knees Aunt Alviry gathered her head close to her bosom; but Ruthdid not weep any more. She only said:

"I know I shall love you very, very much, dear Aunt Alvirah. And Ihope I shall help your back and your bones a great deal, too!"

 CHAPTER VIII

 HOARDING UP: PASSIONS-- MONEY-- WATER

This was Ruth Fielding's introduction to the Red Mill, its occupants, and its surroundings. The spot was, indeed, beautiful, and an hourafter she had arrived she knew that she would love it. The LumanoRiver was a wide stream and from the little window of the chamber thatAunt Alviry said would be her own, she could look both up and down theriver for several miles. 

Uncle Jabez had a young man to help him in the mill. It was true, AuntAlviry said, that Jasper Parloe had worked for some time at the RedMill; but he was quarrelsome and Mr. Potter had declared he was nothonest. When the mill owner was obliged to be absent and people hadcome to have corn or wheat ground, paying for the milling instead ofgiving toll, Jasper had sometimes kept the money instead of turning itover to Mr. Potter. This had finally resulted in a quarrel between thetwo, and Mr. Potter had discharged Parloe without paying him for hislast month's work. 

The young newcomer had learned a great deal about the big mill and thehomestead, and about the work Aunt Alviry had to do, before the firstmeal was prepared. She was of much assistance, too, and when UncleJabez came in, after washing at the pump, but bringing a cloud offlour with him on his clothes, the old woman was seated comfortably inher chair and Ruth "dished up the dinner. "

At the end of his meal her uncle spoke just once to Ruth. "You havel'arned to work, I see. Your Aunt Alviry has trouble with her back andbones. If you make yourself of use to her you can stay here. I expectall cats to catch mice around the Red Mill. Them that don't goes intothe sluice. There's enough to do here. You won't be idle for want ofwork. "

And this was every word of his welcome, in a tone that showed neitherinterest nor care for the girl. It was what help she could be and howmuch he could save by her. It was plain enough that Uncle Jabez Potterwas as saving as a person could possibly be. There was none too muchfood on the table, and Ruth watched the ravenous hunger of the hiredman, when he came in, with a feeling as though she were watching ahalf-starved dog at his meal. 

Jabez Potter was not like the misers Ruth had read about, save in hispersonal appearance. He was not well dressed, nor was he very clean. But naturally the mill-dust would stick to him and to his clothing. Itseemed to have worked into the very texture of his skin during all theyears he had controlled the mill, until he was all of a dead gray. 

Sometimes there were half a dozen wagons or buggies waiting at themill, and not all of them gave toll for their milling. Ruth, in theafternoon, and because it had begun to rain and she could not go out, went into the mill to quench her curiosity regarding it. She saw thatthere was a tiny office over the water, with a fireproof safe in it. Her uncle brought the money he took from his customers and put it in alittle locked, japanned box, which he kept upon a shelf. The safeappeared to be full of ledgers. 

Farther down the mill was a wide door and platform overhanging thewater (this was below the dam) where flour and meal could be loadedupon barges for transportation to Osago Lake, some miles away. Therewere great bins of wheat and corn, many elevator pipes, several millsturning all the time, grinding different grains, and a greatcorn-sheller that went by power, and which the young man fed when hehad nothing else to do. 

All the time the building trembled and throbbed, and this throbbingwas communicated to the house. As she sat with Aunt Alvirah, and sewedcarpet-rags for a braided mat, the distant thunder of the mills andthe trembling of the machinery made the whole house vibrate. 

Late in the afternoon Ruth heard the honking of an auto horn and ranout upon the covered porch. Between the scuds of rain that drove alongthe valley she saw the gray automobile coming slowly past the mill. There was a man driving it now, and he stopped and let Helen Cameronout so that she could run up to great Ruth under the shelter of theporch. 

"Oh, you dear! How are you getting on?" cried Helen, kissing herimpulsively and as glad to see Ruth as though they had been separatedfor days instead of for only a few hours. "Colfax wanted to drive downto the station alone for Daddy-- for we won't bring poor Tom home inthis rain-- but I just couldn't resist coming to see how you weregetting on. " She looked around with big eyes. "How does the Ogre treatyou?" she whispered. 

But Ruth could laugh now and did so, saying, cheerfully: "He hasn'teaten me up yet! And Aunt Alvirah is the dearest little lady who everlived. "

"She likes you, then?"

"Of course she does. "

"I knew she would, she was bound to love you. But I don't know aboutthe Ogre, " and she shook her head. "But there! I must run. We don'twant to be late for the train. That will put Daddy out. And I muststop and see Tom at the doctor's, too. "

"I hope you will find your brother ever so mach better, " cried Ruth, as her friend ran down the walk again. 

"You'll see him come by here to-morrow, if it quits raining, " returnedHelen, over her shoulder. 

But it did not stop raining that night, nor for a full week. The scudsof rain, blowing across the river, slapped sharply against the side ofthe house, and against Ruth's window all night. She did not sleep thatfirst night as well as she had in the charitable home of the stationmaster and his good wife. The evening meal had been as stiff andunpleasant as the noon meal. The evening was spent in the same room--the kitchen. Aunt Alviry knitted and sewed; Uncle Jabez pored overcertain accounts and counted money very softly behind the upliftedcover of the japanned cash-box that he had brought in from the mill. 

She got in time to know that cash-box very well indeed. It often cameinto the house under Uncle Jabez's arm at dinner, too. He scarcelyseemed willing to trust it out of his sight. And Ruth was sure that helocked himself into his room with it at night. 

A loaded shotgun lay upon rests over the kitchen door all the time, and there was a big, two-barreled, muzzle-loading pistol on the standbeside Uncle Jabez's bed. Ruth was much more afraid of these loadedweapons than she was of burglars. But the old man evidently expectedto be attacked for his wealth at some time although, Aunt Alvirah toldher, nobody had ever troubled him in all the years she had lived atthe Red Mill. 

So it was not fear of marauders that kept Ruth so wakeful on thisfirst night under her uncle's roof. She thought of all the kindfriends she had left in Darrowtown, and her long journey here, and hercold welcome to what she supposed would be her future home. WithoutHelen, and without Aunt Alvirah, she knew she would have gotten up, put on her clothing, packed her bag, and run away in the rain to someother place. She could not have stood Uncle Jabez alone. 

Jabez Potter was hoarding up something besides money, too. Ruth didnot understand this until it had already rained several days, and theroaring of the waters fretting against the river banks and against thedam, had become all but deafening in her ears. 

Then, during a lull in the storm, and on the afternoon that TomCameron was taken home from Dr. Davison's, the old doctor himselfstopped at the mill and shouted for Jabez to come out. The doctordrove a very fast red and white mare and had difficulty in holding herin, for she was eager to be moving. 

Uncle Jabez came out and seemed to look upon the doctor in no veryfriendly way. Ruth, standing at the open door of the kitchen, couldhear Dr. Davison's voice plainly. 

"Jabez, " he said, "do you know how the river is at Minturn?"

"No, " returned the miller, briefly. 

"It's higher than it's ever been. That dam is not safe. Why don't youlet your water out so that, if Minturn should break, she'd have freesweep here and so do less damage below? Let this small flood out andwhen the greater one comes there'll be less danger of a disaster. "

"And how do I know the Minturn dam will burst, Dr. Davison?" asked Mr. Potter, tartly. 

"You don't know it. I'm only advising that precaution. "

"And if it don't burst I'll have my pains for my trouble-- and nowater for the summer, perhaps. They wouldn't let me have water later, if I needed it. "

"But you're risking your own property here. "

"And it's mine to risk, Dr. Davison, " said Potter, in his sullen way. 

"But there are other people to think of--"

I don't agree with you, " interrupted the miller. "I have enough to doto attend to my own concerns. I don't bother about other people'sbusiness. "

"Meaning that I do when I speak to you about the water; eh?" said theold doctor, cheerfully. "Well, I've done my duty. You'll learn sometime, Jabez. "

He let out the impatient mare then, and the mud spattered from hiswheels as he flew up the road toward Cheslow. 

 CHAPTER IX

 THE CREST OF THE WAVE

The rain could not last forever; Nature must cease weeping some time. Just as girls, far away from their old homes and their old friends, must cease wetting their pillows with regretful tears after a time, and look forward to the new interests and new friends to which theyhave come. 

Not that Ruth wept much. But the rainy days of that first week werenecessarily trying. On Saturday, however, came a clear day. The sunshone, the drenched trees shook themselves, and the wind came and blewsoftly and warmly through their branches to dry the tender foliage. The birds popped out of their hiding-places and began to sing andchirp as though they never could be glad enough for this change in theweather. 

There was so much to see from the kitchen door at the Red Mill thatRuth did not mind her work that morning. She had learned now to helpAunt Alvirah in many ways. Not often did the old lady have to go aboutmoaning her old refrain:

"Oh, my back and oh, my bones! Oh, my back and oh, my bones!"

The housework was all done and the kitchen swept and as neat as a newpin when the gay tooting of the Cameron automobile horn called Ruth tothe porch. There was only Helen on the front seat of the car; but inthe tonneau was a bundled-up figure surmounted by what looked to be ascarlet cap which Ruth knew instantly must be Tom's. Ruth did not knowmany boys and, never having had a brother, was not a little bashful. Besides, she was afraid Tom Cameron would make much of her connectionwith his being found on the Wilkins Corners road that dark night, after his accident. 

And there was another thing that made Ruth feel diffident aboutapproaching the boy. She had borne it all the time in her mind, andthe instant she saw Tom in the automobile it bobbed up to the surfaceof her thought again. 

"It was Jabe Potter-- he did it. "

So, for more reasons than one, Ruth approached the motor car withhesitation. 

"Oh, Ruth!" cried Helen, putting out a gauntleted hand to her. "Sothis horrid rain has not washed you away? You won't like the Red Millif the weather keeps this way. And how do you get on?" she added, lowering her voice. "How about the Ogre?"

"He has not ground me into bread-flour yet, " responded Ruth, smiling. 

"I see he hasn't. You're just as plump as ever, so he hasn't starvedyou, either. Now, Ruth, I want you to know my brother Tom, whom youhave met before without his having been aware of it at the time, " andshe laughed again. 

Tom's left arm was in a sling, and the scarlet bandage around his headmade him look like a pirate; but he grinned broadly at Ruth and putout his lean brown hand. 

"When I heard about you, Miss Fielding, I knew you were a spunky one, "he said. "And anybody that Reno takes to, the way she did to you, isall right. Besides, Nell is just spoons on you already, and Nell, likeReno, doesn't take to every girl. "

"The doctor said an outing in the car wouldn't hurt Tom, " went onHelen, "and we're going to run up the valley road a way. Now RuthFielding, you get your hat and coat and come with us. "

"I don't know that I may, " Ruth said, timidly. 

"I'll believe that he is an ogre then, and that you are kept aprisoner in this awful castle, " cried Helen. 

"I'd love to go, " murmured Ruth. 

"Then run and ask, " urged her friend, while Tom added, good-naturedly:

"Yes, why not come along? Don't be afraid of Nell's driving. Shehandles the car all right. "

Ruth knew that Uncle Jabez had gone to town. She had a feeling that hedid not like the Camerons and might oppose her friendliness with them. But he was not at hand now to interfere with her innocent pleasures. She went in and asked Aunt Alvirah if she could take the ride. 

"Why not, child? You've been the very best helpmate ever an old womanhad-- Oh, my back and oh, my bones! Run along and have your fun, deary. You need not be back till supper time. You have earned yourlittle outing, that's sure and sartain. "

Before Helen had picked her up on the road to the Red Mill that firstday, Ruth had never ridden in a motor car. On that occasion they hadtraveled very slowly, while the girls talked. But now, when she wasseated beside her new friend, Helen ran the auto on its high gear, andthey shot away up the level river road at a pace that almost tookRuth's breath away, "Up here among the foothills is the big Minturn Pond Dam, " Tom said, leaning forward to speak to their guest. "It's twenty miles above youruncle's dam and is a deal bigger. And some say it is not safe-- Wait, Nell! Slow down so that we can see the face of the dam from theOverlook. "

The speed of the car was immediately reduced under Helen'smanipulation, and then she swerved it into a short side road runningtoward the river, and they came out upon a little graveled plaza inthe center of a tiny park, which gave a splendid view of the valley inboth directions. 

But the young people in the motor car turned their eyes to the west. There the face of the Minturn dam could be discerned; and even as theylooked at it they seemed to see it changing-- dissolving, covered withmist, and spouting geysers of what at first seemed like smoke. But itwas Tom who realized the truth. 

"She's burst!" he cried. "The old dam's burst! There she goes in adozen places!"

Although they were several miles down the valley, the thunder of thebursting masonry now echoed in their ears. And up from the bottom ofthe wall, near its center, a great geyser spouted. In a moment thewall crumbled and they saw tons upon tons of the masonry melt away. The waters of the pond burst through in a solid flood and charged downthe valley, spreading wider and wider as it charged on, and bearingupon its crest every light and unstable structure found in its path. 

It was a startling-- a terrifying sight. No wonder the two girls criedout in alarm and clung together. The sight of the charging floodfascinated them. 

But then they were aroused-- and that within the first half minute oftheir terror-- by Tom. He was trying, crippled as he was, to climbover into their seat. 

"What are you doing, you foolish boy?" cried Helen. "Sit down. "

"We've got to get out of here!" muttered the excited youth. 

"Why, we are safe here. The water will never rise to this height. "

"I know it! I know it!" groaned Tom, falling back in his seat andpaling because of the pain from his arm, which he had twisted. "Butdon't you see? There are many down the valley who won't know of thisuntil too late. Why, they can't see it at the bridge-- at Culm Falls--until the flood is right upon them. "

"It's true!" gasped Helen. "What shall we do?"

"We must warn them-- we can warn them, can't we?" demanded Ruth. "Thiscar runs so fast-- you control it so well, Helen. Can't we warn them?"

"Try it, Sis!" shouted Tom. "You can do it!"

And already his sister, setting her teeth hard upon her lower lip, wasbacking and turning the motor car. In twenty seconds they were dashingoff upon the track over which they had so recently come-- on the roaddown the valley with the flood following fast behind them. 

 CHAPTER X

 THE RACE

The two girls on the front seat of the flying automobile were notprepared for racing. Of course, Ruth Fielding had no proper automobileoutfit, and Helen had not expected such an emergency when she hadstarted with her crippled brother for this afternoon run. She had nogoggles, nor any mask; but she had the presence of mind to raise thewind-shield. 

Already they could have heard the steady roaring of the advancingflood had not the racing motor car drowned all other sounds. Therewas, however, no need to look behind; they knew the wave was there andthat it was sweeping down the valley of the Lumano with frightfulvelocity. 

Indeed, they were not at all sure for those first few miles whetherthey were traveling as fast as the flood, or not. Suppose the waveshould reach and sweep away the bridge before they could cross theriver? The thought was in the mind of both Helen and Ruth, whetherTom, on the rear seat, considered it or not. When they finally shotout of the woods and turned toward the toll-bridge, all glancedaround. From here the upper reaches of the Lumano were plainlyrevealed. And extending clear across the valley was the foam-crestedwave charging down upon the lowlands, but a number of miles away. 

Here was the first house, too. They saw a man and woman and severalchildren out front, staring at the automobile as it raced down theroad. Perhaps they had been called from the house by the vibration ofthe bursting dam. 

Tom sprang up in the car and pointed behind him, yelling:

"The flood! The flood!"

It is doubtful if they heard what he said; and they, too, were on aknoll and likely out of the reach of the water. But the three in theautomobile saw the whole family turn and run for the higher groundbehind their house. They understood the peril which menaced the wholevalley. 

In a flash the auto had turned the bend in the river road, and theoccupants saw the toll-bridge and the peaceful hamlet of Culm Falls. There was no stir there. The toll-bridge keeper was not even out ofhis cottage, and the light and flimsy gates were down across thedriveway at either end of the bridge. The bend in the river hid theadvancing wall of water. Perhaps, too, it deadened the sound of thebursting dam and the roar of the waters. 

There was another house at the bend. Helen tooted the automobile hornas though it had gone crazy. The raucous notes must of a certaintyhave awakened anybody but the Seven Sleepers. But the three in the carsaw no sign of life about the premises. Helen had started to slowdown; but Tom stopped her with a hand on her arm. 

"Not here! Not here!" he yelled. "Get across the river first, Nell!That wave is coming!"

Indeed it was. And the toll-bridge keeper did not appear, and thegates were shut. But Helen Cameron was excited now and her racingblood was up. She never hesitated at the frail barrier, but drovestraight through it, smashing the gate to kindling wood, and smashingtheir own wind shield as well. 

Out ran the toll-man then; but they were half way across the bridge;he could barely have raised the other gate had he set about itinstantly. So they went through that, too, leaving him bawling andshrieking after them, but soon to learn by looking up the river whatTom meant by his excited words as the motor car swept by. 

Helen slowed down at the smithy. There were several men there and anumber of wagons. The trio in the car screamed at them: "The dam hasburst! The flood is coming!" and then started up again and sweptthrough the little village, looking back to see the group at thesmithy running in all directions to give the alarm

Now the road, clear to the Red Mill and beyond, ran within sight ofthe river. The mill was all of ten miles away. The valley was low hereand as far as they could see ahead it broadened considerably on thisside of the Lumano. But the hills arose abruptly on the farther bankand all the force and mass of the flood must sweep across thesemeadows. 

As the car moved on, Helen tooted the horn constantly. Its blastsalone should have warned people of what threatened, without Tom'sfrantic shouts and gesticulations. They were obliged, however, to slowdown before several houses to make the occupants understand theirdanger. 

They were not half way to the Red Mill when the roar of the advancingtidal wave was apparent even above the noise of the auto. Then theysaw the crest of the flood appear around the bend and the alreadyheavily burdened waters dashed themselves upon the toll-bridge. Itcrumpled up and disappeared like a spider-web bridge, and the floodrolled on, the wave widening and overflowing the lowlands behind theautomobile. 

Ahead of them now upon the road there was a single foot-passenger-- aman carrying a heavy basket. He seemed so far from the higher ground, and so determined to keep to the road, that Ruth cried out and laidher hand upon Helen's arm. The latter nodded and shut off the engineso that the automobile ran down and almost stopped by this pedestrian. 

"Here, you!" shouted Tom, from the tonneau. "Get in here quick!There's no time to lose!"

Much of what he said was lost in the roaring of the waters; but thefellow understood him well enough, and scrambled into the car with hisbasket. It was Jasper Parloe, and the old man was shaking as withpalsy. 

"My goodness gracious!" he croaked, falling back in the seat as thecar darted away again. "Ain't this awful? Ain't this jest awful?"

He was too scared, one would have supposed, to think of much else thanthe peril of the flood sweeping the valley behind them; yet he staredup at Tom Cameron again and again as the auto hurried them on towardthe safety of the higher ground about the Red Mill, and there wassomething very sly in his look. 

"Ye warn't hurt so bad then, arter all, was ye, Master Cameron?" hecroaked. 

"I reckon I shall live to get over it, " returned the boy, shortly. 

"But no thanks to Jabe Potter-- heh? Ha! I know, I know!"

Tom stared in return angrily, but the old man kept shaking his headand smiling up at him slily and in such a significant way that, hadthe boy not been so disturbed by what was going on behind them, hecertainly would have demanded to know what the old fellow meant. 

But the car was getting close to the long hill that mounted to thecrest on which the Red Mill stood. How much better would it have beenfor Jabez Potter and all concerned had he taken Doctor Davison'sadvice and let out the water behind his dam! But now he was not evenat home to do anything before the thousands upon thousands of tons ofwater from the Minturn reservoir swept through the Red Mill dam. 

They saw the foaming, yellow water spread over the country behindthem; but within half a mile of the mill it gathered into narrowercompass again because of the nature of the land, and the wave grewhigher as it rushed down upon Potter's dam. The motor car puffed upthe hill and halted before the mill door. 

"Will we be safe here, Tom?" cried Helen, as pale as a ghost now, buttoo brave to give way. "Are we safe?"

"We're all right, I believe, " said Tom. 

Jasper Parloe was already out of the car and ran into the mill. Onlythe hired man was there, and he came to the door with a face whiterthan it was naturally made by the flour dust. 

"Come in, quick!" he cried to the young people. "This mill can't go--it's too solid. "

Beyond the Red Mill the ground was low again; had the Camerons triedto keep on the road for home the flood would have overtaken the car. And to take the road that branched off for Cheslow would haveendangered the car, too. In a few seconds the knoll on which the millstood was an island!

The girls and Tom ran indoors. They could hardly hear each other shoutduring the next few minutes. The waters rose and poured over the dam, and part of it was swept out. Great waves beat upon the river-wall ofthe mill. And then, with a tearing crash of rent timbers and masonry, the front of the little office and the storeroom, built out over theriver, was torn away. 

From that quarter Jasper Parloe ran, yelling wildly. Ruth saw him dartout of the far door of the mill, stooping low and with his coat overhis head as though he expected the whole structure to fall about hisears. 

But only that wall and the loading platform for the boats were slicedoff by the flood. Then the bulk of the angry waters swept past, carrying all sorts of debris before it, and no farther harm was doneto the mill, or to Mr. Potter's other buildings. 

 CHAPTER XI

 UNCLE JABEZ IS EXCITED

So rapidly had all this taken place that the girls had remained in themill. But now Ruth, crying: "Aunt Alvirah will be frightened to death, Helen!" led the way down the long passage and through the shed intothe kitchen porch. The water on this side of the building had swept upthe road and actually into the yard; but the automobile stood in apuddle only and was not injured. 

Aunt Alviry was sitting in her rocker by the window. The old woman wasvery pale and wan. She had her Bible open on her knees and her lipstrembled in a smile of welcome when the girls burst into the room. 

"Oh, my dears! my dears!" she cried. "I am so thankful to see you bothsafe!" She started to rise, and the old phrase came to her lips: "Oh, my back and oh, my bones!"

Then she rose and hobbled across the room. Her bright little, birdlikeeyes, that had never yet known spectacles, had seen something up theCheslow road. 

"Who's this a-coming? For the land's sake, what recklessness! Is thatJabez and his mules, Ruthie? Bless us and save us! what's he going totry and do?"

The two girls ran to the door. Down the hill thundered a farm wagondrawn by a pair of mules, said mules being on the dead run while theirdriver stood in the wagon and snapped his long, blacksnake whip overtheir ears. Such a descent of the hill was reckless enough in anycase; but now, at the foot, rolled the deep water. It had washed awaya little bridge that spanned what was usually a rill, but the banks ofthis stream being overflowed for yards on either side, the channel wasat least ten feet deep. 

It was Jabez Potter driving so recklessly down the hill from Cheslow. 

"Oh, oh!" screamed the old lady. "Jabez will be killed! Oh, my backand oh, my bones! Oh, deary, deary me!"

She had crossed the porch and was hobbling down the steps. Herrheumatic twinges evidently caused her excruciating pain, but the fearshe felt for the miller's safety spurred her to get as far as thefence. And there Ruth and Helen kept her from splashing into the muddywater that covered the road. 

"You can do no good, Aunt Alvirah!" cried Ruth. 

"The mules are not running away with him, Mrs. Boggs, " urged Helen. 

"They'll kill him! He's crazy! It's his money-- the poor, poor man!"

It was evident that Aunt Alvirah read the miller's excitement aright. Ruth remembered the cash-box and wondered if it had been left in themill while her uncle went to Cheslow? However that might be, herattention-- indeed, the attention of everybody about the mill-- washeld by the reckless actions of Mr. Potter. 

It was not fifteen minutes after the wave had hit the mill and tornaway a part of the outer office wall and the loading platform, orwharf, when the racing mules came down to the turbulent stream thatlay between the Cheslow road and the Red Mill. The frightened animalswould have balked at the stream, but the miller, still standing in thewagon, coiled the whip around his head and then lashed out with it, laying it, like a tongue of living fire, across the mules' backs. 

They were young animals and they had been unused, until this day, tothe touch of the blacksnake. They leaped forward with almost forceenough to break out of their harness, but landing in the deep waterwith the wagon behind them. So far out did they leap that they wentcompletely under and the wagon dipped until the body was full ofwater. 

But there stood the miller, upright and silent, plying the whip whenthey came to the surface, and urging them on. Ruth had noticed beforethis that Uncle Jabez was not cruel to his team, or to his otheranimals; but this was actual brutality. 

However, the mules won through the flood. The turgid stream was notwide and it was not a long fight. But there was the peril of mules, wagon and man being swept out into the main stream of the flood andcarried over the dam. 

"He is awful! awful!" murmured Helen, in Ruth's ear, as they clungtogether and watched the miller and his outfit come through and themules scramble out upon solid ground. 

The miller had brought his half-mad team to the mill and pulled themules down right beside the Cameron's automobile. Already the youngfellow who worked for him had flown out of the mill to Jabez'sassistance. He seized the frightened mules by their bits. 

"How much has gone, boy?" cried Jabez, in a strained, hoarse voice. 

"Not much, boss. Only a part of the office an'--"

The miller was already in at the door. In a moment, it seemed, he wasback again, having seen the damage done by the flood to his building. But that damage was comparatively slight. It should not have causedthe old man to display such profound despair. 

He wrung his hands, tore off his hat and stamped upon it on the walk, and behaved in such a manner that it was little wonder Helen Cameronwas vastly frightened. He seemed beside himself with rage and despair. 

Ruth, herself torn by conflicting emotions, could not bear to see theold man so convulsed with what seemed to be anguish of spirit, withoutoffering her sympathy. During this week that she had been at the RedMill it could not be said that she had gained Uncle Jabez'sconfidence-- that she had drawn close to him at all. But it was notfor a will on her part to do so. 

The girl now left Aunt Alvirah and Helen on the porch and walkedstraight down to the old man. She was beside him, with a hand upon hisarm, before he was aware of her coming. 

He stared at her so angrily-- with such an expression of rage andhopelessness upon his face-- that she was held speechless for amoment. 

"What do you know about it, girl?" he demanded, hoarsely. 

"About what, Uncle?" she returned. 

"The box-- the cash-box-- my money!" he cried, in a low voice. "Do youknow anything about it? Was it saved?"

"Oh, Uncle! We only got here in the automobile just in time to escapethe flood. The office was wrecked at that very moment. Was the boxthere?"

"Gone! Gone!" he murmured, shaking his head; and turning on his heel, he strode into the mill. 

The boy had taken the mules around to the stable. Ruth hesitated, thenfollowed the old man into the mill. There Jabez confronted TomCameron, sitting on a sack of meal and watching the turbid watersfalling over the dam. 

"Ha! Young Cameron, " muttered Uncle Jabez. "You didn't see thecash-box, of course?"

"Where was it?" asked Tom, quietly. 

"In that office-- on a shelf, with an old coat thrown over it. Ibelieved it to be as safe there as in the house with nobody but an oldwoman to guard it. "

"Better put your money in the bank, sir, " said Tom, coolly. 

"And have some sleek and oily scoundrel steal it, eh?" snarled UncleJabez. 

"Well, the water stole it, I reckon, " Tom said. "I'm sorry for you ifthere was much money in the box. But I know nothing about it. JasperParloe might have saved the box had be known about it; he was overthere by the office when the water tore away the wall. "

"Jasper Parloe!" ejaculated Uncle Jabez, starting. "Was he here?"

"He wasn't here long, " chuckled Tom. "He thought the mill was goingand he lit out in a hurry. "

Uncle Jabez made another despairing gesture and walked away. Ruthfollowed him and her hands closed upon the toil-hardened fist clenchedat his side. 

"I'm sorry, Uncle, " she whispered. 

He suddenly stared down at her. 

"There! I believe you be, child. But your being sorry can't help itnone. The money's gone-- hard it come and it's hard to part with inthis way. "

"Was it a large sum, Uncle?"

"All the ready cash I had in the world. Every cent I owned. That boysaid, put it in a bank. I lost money when the Cheslow Bank failedforty year ago. I don't get caught twice in the same trap-- no, sir!I've lost more this time; but no dishonest blackleg will have thebenefit of it, that's sure. The river's got it, and nobody will everbe a cent the better off for it. All! All gone!"

He jerked his hand away from Ruth's sympathetic pressure and walkedmoodily away. 

 CHAPTER XII

 THE CATASTROPHE

This was the beginning of some little confidence between Ruth andUncle Jabez. He had not been quite so stern and unbending, even in hispassion, as before. He said nothing more about the lost cash-box--Aunt Alviry dared not even broach the subject-- but Ruth tried to showhim in quiet ways that she was sorry for his loss. 

Uncle Jabez was not a gentle man, however; his voice being so seldomheard did not make it the less rough and passionate. There were timeswhen, because of his black looks, Ruth did not even dare address him. And there was one topic she longed to address him upon very muchindeed. She wanted to go to school. 

She had always been quick at her books, and had stood well in thegraded school of Darrowtown. There was a schoolhouse up the road fromthe Red Mill-- not half a mile away; this district school was a verygood one and the teacher had called on Aunt Alvirah and Ruth liked hervery much. 

The flood had long since subsided and the repairs to the mill and thedam were under way. Uncle Jabez grew no more pleasant, however, forthe freshet had damaged his dam so that all the water had to be letout and he might go into midsummer with such low pressure behind thedam that he could not run the mill through the drouth. Thispossibility, together with the loss of the cash-box, made him-- evenAunt Alvirah admitted-- "like a dog with a sore head. " NeverthelessRuth determined to speak to him about the school. 

She chose an evening when the kitchen was particularly bright andhomelike and her uncle had eaten his supper as though he very muchenjoyed it. There was no cash-box for him to be absorbed in now; butevery evening he made countless calculations in an old ledger which hetook to bed with him with as much care as he had the money-box. 

Before he opened his ledger on this evening, however, Ruth stoodbeside him and put a hand upon his arm. 

"Uncle, " she said, bravely, "can I go to school?"

He stared at her directly for a moment, from under his heavy brows;but her own gaze never wavered. 

"How much schoolin' do you want?" he demanded, harshly. 

"If you please Uncle Jabez, all I can get, " replied Ruth. 

"Ha! Readin', writin', an' mighty little 'rithmatic-- we called 'em'the three R's '-- did for me when I was a boy. The school tax theyput onto me ev'ry year is something wicked. And I never had chick norchild to go to their blamed old school. "

"Let me go, Uncle, and so get some of your money back that way, " Ruthsaid, quickly, and smiling in her little, birdlike way with her headon one side. 

"Ha! I don't know about that, " he growled, shaking his head. "I don'tsee what I'll be makin' out of it. "

"Perhaps I can help you later, if you'll let me learn enough, " sheurged. "I can learn enough arithmetic to keep your books. I'll tryreal hard. "

"I don't know about that, " he said, again, eyeing her suspiciously. "The little money I make I kin keep watch of-- when I'm here to watchit, that is. There ain't no book-keeping necessary in my business. Andthen-- there's your Aunt Alviry. She needs you. "

"Don't you go for to say that, Jabez, " interposed the old woman, briskly. "That child's the greatest help that ever was; but she can doall that's necessary before and arter school, and on Saturdays. She'sa good smart child, Jabez. Let her have a chance to l'arn. "

"Ain't no good ever come of books, " muttered the miller. 

"Oh, Uncle! Just let me show you, " begged the girl, in her earnestnessclinging to his arm with both hands. 

He looked down for a moment at her hands as though he would fling offher hold. But he thought better of it, and waited fully a minutebefore he spoke. 

"You know your Aunt Alviry needs ye, " he said. "If you kin fix it withher, why I don't see as I need object. "

"Will it be too much trouble for you to get my trunk, Uncle, so that Ican begin going to school next week?" Ruth asked. 

"Ain't you got nothin' to wear to school?" he said. "It's dress; isit? Beginning that trouble airly; ain't ye?"

He seemed to be quite cross again, and the girl looked at him insurprise. 

"Dear Uncle! You will get the trunk from the station, won't you?"

"No I won't, " he said. "Because why? Because I can't. "

"You can't?" she gasped, and even Aunt Alvirah looked startled. 

"That's what I said. "

"Why-- why can't you?" cried Ruth. "Has something happened to mytrunk?"

"That's jest it-- and it warn't no fault o' mine, " said the miller. "Igot the trunk like I said I would and it was in the wagon when we camedown the hill yonder

"Oh, oh!" gasped Ruth, her hands clasped. "You don't mean when you ranthe mules into the water, Uncle?"

"I had to get to my mill. I didn't know what was being done overhere, " he said, uglily. "And didn't I lose enough? What's the loss ofsome old rags, and a trunk, 'side of my money?"

He said it with such force, and with so angry a gesture, that sheshrank back from him. But her pain and disappointment were so strongthat she had to speak. 

"And the trunk was washed out of the wagon, Uncle Jabez? It's gone?"

"That's what happened to it, I suppose, " he grunted, and dropping hishead, opened the ledger and began to study the long lines of figuresthere displayed. Not a word to show that he was sorry for her loss. Noappreciation of the girl's pain and sorrow. He selfishly hugged to himthe misfortune of his own loss and gave no heed to Ruth. 

But Aunt Alvirah caught her hand as she passed swiftly. The old womancarried the plump little hand to her lips in mute sympathy, and thenRuth broke away even from her and ran upstairs to her room. There shecast herself upon the bed and, with her sobs smothered in the pillows, gave way to the grief that had long been swelling her heart to thebursting point. 

 CHAPTER XIII

 BUTTER AND BUTTERCUPS

Such little keepsakes as remained of her father and mother-- theirphotographs, a thin old bracelet, her mother's wedding ring, herfather's battered silver watch had fortunately been in Ruth's bag. Those keepsakes had been too precious to risk in the trunk and in thebaggage car. And how glad the girl was now that she had thus treasuredthese things. 

But the loss of the trunk, with all her clothing -- common though thatclothing had been-- was a disaster that Ruth could not easily getover. She cried herself to sleep that night and in the morning camedown with a woebegone face indeed. Uncle Jabez did not notice her, andeven Aunt Alvirah did not comment upon her swollen eyes andtear-streaked countenance. But the old woman, if anything, was kinderthan ever to her. 

It was Saturday, and butter day. Uncle Jabez owned one cow, and sinceRuth had come to the mill it was her work twice a week to churn thebutter. The churn was a stone crock with a wooden dasher and Ruth hadjust emptied in the thick cream when Helen Cameron ran in. 

"Oh, Ruth!" she cried. "You're always busy-- especially if I chance towant you at all particularly. "

"If you will be a drone yourself, Helen, you must expect to be alwayshunting company, " laughed Ruth. "Just what is troubling Miss Cameronat present?"

"We're going to dress the Cove Chapel for to-morrow. You know, I toldyou our guild attends to the decoration of the chapel and I've justset my heart on making a great pillow of buttercups. The fields arefull of them. And Tom says he'll help. Now, you'll come; won't you?"

"If I come for buttercups it will have to he after the butter comes!"returned Ruth, laughing. 

She had begun to beat the dasher up and down and little particles ofcream sprayed up through the hole in the cover of the jar, around thehandle of the dasher. Helen looked on with growing interest. 

"And is that the way to make butter?" she asked. "And the cream'salmost white. Our butter is yellow-- golden. Just as golden as thebuttercups. Do you color it?"

"Not at this time of year. I used to help Miss True make butter. Shehad a cow. She said I was a good butter maker. You see, it's all inthe washing after the butter comes. You wait and see. "

"But I want to pick buttercups-- and Tom is waiting down by thebridge. "

"Can't help it. Butter before buttercups, " declared Ruth, keeping thedasher steadily at work. "And then, Aunt Alvirah may want me forsomething else before dinner. "

"We've got dinner with us-- or, Tom has. At least, Babette put us up abasket of lunch. "

"Oh! A picnic!" cried Ruth, flushing with pleasure. This visit haddriven out of her mind -- for the time, at least-- her trouble ofovernight. 

"I'm going to ask Aunt Alviry for you, " went on Helen, and skippedaway to find the little old woman who, despite the drawback of "herback and her bones" was a very neat and particular housekeeper. Shewas back in a few moments. 

"She says you can go, just as soon as you get the butter made. Now, hurry up, and let us get into the buttercup field, which is a wholelot nicer than the butter churn and-- Oh! it smells much nicer, too. Why, Ruth, that cream actually smells sour!"

"I expect it is sour, " laughed her friend. "Didn't you know that sweetbutter comes from sour cream? And that most nice things are the resultof hard work? The sweet from the bitter, you know. "

"My! how philosophical we are this morning. Isn't that butter evercoming?"

"Impatience! Didn't you ever have to wait for anything you wanted inyour life?"

"Why, I've got to wait till next fall before I go to Briarwood Hall. That's a rhyme, Ruthie; it's been singing itself over and over in mymind for days. I'm really going to boarding school in the autumn. It'sdecided. Tom is going to the military academy on the other side ofOsago Lake. He'll be within ten miles of Briarwood. "

Ruth's face had lost its brightness as Helen said this. The word"school" had brought again to the girl's mind her own unfortunateposition and Uncle Jabez's unkindness. 

"I hope you will have a delightful time at Briarwood, " Ruth said, softly. "I expect I shall miss you dreadfully. "

"Oh, suppose the Ogre should send you to school there, too!" criedHelen, with clasped hands. "Wouldn't that be splendid!"

"That would be beyond all imagination, " said Ruth, shaking her head. "I-- I don't know that I shall be able to attend the balance of theterm here. "

"Why not?" demanded Helen. "Won't he let you?"

"He has said I could. " Ruth could say no more just then. She hid herface from her friend, but made believe that it was the butter thatoccupied her attention. The dasher began to slap, slap, slapsuggestively in the churn and little particles of beaten cream beganto gather on the handle of the dasher. 

"Oh!" cried Helen. "It's getting hard!"

"The butter is coming. Now a little cold water to help it separate. And then you shall have a most delicious glass of buttermilk. "

"No, thank you!" cried Helen. "They say it's good for one to drink it. But I never do like anything that's good for me. "

"Give it to me, Ruth, " interposed another voice, and Tom put a smilingface around the corner of the well. "I thought you were never coming, Miss Flyaway, " he said, to his sister. 

"Butter before buttercups, young man, " responded Helen, primly. "Wemust wait for Ruth to-- er-- wash the butter, is it?"

"Yes, " said her friend, seriously, opening the churn and beginning toladle out the now yellow butter into a wooden bowl. 

"May I assist at the butter's toilet?" queried Tom, grinning. 

"You may sit down and watch, " said his sister, in a tone intended toquell any undue levity on her brother's part. 

Ruth had rolled her sleeves above her elbows, so displaying her prettyplump arms, and now worked and worked the butter in cold water right"from the north side of the well" as though she were kneading bread. First she had poured Tom a pitcher of the fresh buttermilk, and givenhim a glass. Even Helen tasted a little of the tart drink. 

"Oh, it's ever so nice, I suppose, " she said, with a little grimace;"but I much prefer my milk sweet. "

Again and again Ruth poured off the milky water and ran fresh, coldwater upon her butter until no amount of kneading and washing wouldsubtract another particle of milk from the yellow ball. The water wasperfectly clear. 

"Now I'll salt it, " she said; "and put it away until this afternoon, and then I'll work it again and put it down in the butter-jar. When Igrow up and get rich I am going to have a great, big dairy; with aherd of registered cattle, and I'm going to make all the buttermyself. "

"And Tom's going to raise horses. He's going to own a stock farm-- sohe says. You'd better combine interests, " said Helen, with some scorn. "I like horses to ride, and butter to eat, but-- well, I preferbuttercups just now. Hurry up, Miss Slow-poke! We'll never get enoughflowers for a pillow. "

So Ruth cleaned her face, taking a peep into the glass in the kitchento make sure, before going out to her friends. Tom looked at her withplain approval, and Helen jumped up to squeeze her again. 

"No wonder Aunt Alvirah calls you 'pretty creetur', " she whispered inRuth's ear. "For that's what you are. " Then to Tom: "Now young man, have you the lunch basket?"

"What there is left of it is in charge of Reno down at the bridge, " hereplied, coolly. 

They found the huge mastiff lying with the napkin-covered basketbetween his forepaws, on the grass by the water side. Reno wasgrowling warningly and had his eyes fixed upon a figure leaning uponthe bridge railing. 

"That there dawg don't seem ter take to me, " drawled Jasper Parloe, who was the person on the bridge. "He needn't be afraid. I wouldn'ttouch the basket. "

"You won't be likely to touch it while Reno has charge of it, " saidTom, quietly, while the girls passed on swiftly. Neither Ruth norHelen liked to have anything to do with Parloe. When Tom released Renofrom his watch and ward, the dog trotted after Ruth and put his noseinto her hand. 

"Ye been up ter the mill, hev ye?" queried Parloe, eyeing Tom Cameronaslant. "ye oughter be gre't friends with Jabe Potter. Or has hesquared hisself with ye?"

"Say, Mister Parloe, " said Tom, sharply, "you've been hintingsomething about the miller every time you've seen me lately

"Only since yeou was knocked down that bank inter the gully, an' yerarm an' head hurt. There warn't nothin' about Jabe ter interest yeouafore that, " returned Parloe, quickly. 

Tom flushed suddenly and he looked at the old fellow with newinterest. 

"Just what do you mean?" he asked, slowly. 

"Ye know well enough. Your dad, Tom Cameron, is mighty riled up overyour bein' hurt. I heered him say that he'd give a ten-dollar note terknow who it was drove by ye that night and crowded ye inter the ditch. Would you give more than that not ter have it known who done it?"

"What do you mean?" exclaimed Tom, angrily. 

"I guess ye like this here gal that's cone to live on Jabez, purtywell; don't ye-- yeou an' yer sister?" croaked old Parloe. "Wal, ifyour dad an' the miller gits inter a row-- comes ter a clinch, as yemight say-- yeou an' yer sister won't be let ter hev much ter do withRuth, eh, now?"

"I don't know that that's so, " Tom said doggedly. 

"Oh, yes, ye do. Think it over. Old Jabe will put his foot right downan' he'll stop Ruth havin' anything ter do with ye-- ye know it! Wal, now; think it over. I got a conscience, I have, " pursued Parloe, cringing and rubbing his hands together, his sly little eyessparkling. "I r'ally feel as though I'd oughter tell yer dad who itwas almost run ye down that night and made ye fall into the gully. "

"You mean, you'd like to handle Dad's ten dollars!" cried Tom, angrily. 

Parloe smirked and still rubbed his hands together. "Don't matter amite whose ten dollars I handle, " he said, suggestively. "Your tendollars would be jest as welcome to me as your Dad's, Master Cameron. "

"Ten dollars is a lot of money, " said Tom. 

"Yes. It's right smart. I could make use of it I'm a poor man, an' Icould use it nicely, " admitted the sly and furtive Parloe. 

"I haven't got so much money now, " growled the boy. 

"Yeou kin get it, I warrant. "

"I suppose I can. " He drew his purse from his pocket. "I've got threedollars and a half here. I'll have the rest for you on Monday. "

"Quite correct, " said Jasper Parloe, clutching eagerly at the money. "I'll trust ye till then-- oh, yes! I'll trust ye till then. "

 CHAPTER XIV

 JUST A MATTER OF A DRESS

"Well, I really believe, Tommy Cameron!" cried his sister Helen, whenhe overtook the girls and Reno, swinging the basket recklessly, "thatyou are developing a love for low company. I don't see how you canbear to talk with that Jasper Parloe. "

"I don't see how I can, either, " muttered Tom, and he was rathersilent-- for him-- until they were well off the road and the incidentat the bridge was some minutes behind them. 

But the day was such a glorious one, and the fields and woods were sobeautiful, that no healthy boy could long be gloomy. Besides, TomCameron had assured his sister that he thought Ruth Fielding "justimmense, " and he was determined to give the girl of the Red Mill aspleasant a time as possible. 

He worked like a Trojan to gather buttercups, and after they had eatenthe luncheon old Babette had put up for them (and it was the verynicest and daintiest luncheon that Ruth Fielding had ever tasted) hetold the girls to remain seated on the flat stone he had found forthem and weave the foundation for the pillow while he picked bushelsupon bushels of buttercups. 

"You'll need a two-horse load, anyway to have enough for a pillow ofthe size Nell has planned, " he said, grinning. "And perhaps she'llfinish it if you help her, Ruth. She's always trying to do some bigthing and 'falling down' on it. "

"That's not so, Master Sauce-box!" cried his sister. 

Tom went off laughing, and the two girls set to work on the great massof buttercups they had already picked. They grew so large, and were sodewey and golden, that a more brilliant bed of color one could scarceimagine than the pillow, as it began to grow under the dexterous handsof Helen and Ruth. And, being alone together now, they began to growconfidential. 

"And how does the Ogre treat you?" asked Helen. "I thought, when Icame this morning, that you had been feeling badly. "

"I am not very happy, " admitted Ruth. 

"It's that horrid Ogre!" cried Helen. 

"It isn't right to call Uncle Jabez names, " said Ruth, quietly. "He isgreatly to be pitied, I do believe. And just now, particularly so. "

"You mean because of the loss of that cash-box?"

"Yes. "

"Do you suppose there was much in it?"

"He told me that it contained every cent he had saved in all theseyears. "

"My!" cried Helen. "Then he must have lost a fortune! He has been amiser for forty years, so they say. "

"I do not know about that, " Ruth pursued. "He is harsh and-- and heseems to be very selfish. He-- he says I can go to school, though. "

"Well, I should hope so!" cried Helen. 

"But I don't know that I can go, " Ruth continued, shaking her head. 

"For pity's sake I why not?" asked her friend. 

Then, out came the story of the lost trunk. Nor could Ruth keep backthe tears as she told her friend about Uncle Jabez's cruelty. 

"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Helen, almost weeping herself. "The mean, meanthing! No, I won't call him Ogre again; he isn't as good as an Ogre. I-- I don't know what to call him!"

"Calling him names won't bring back my trunk, Helen, " sobbed Ruth. 

"That's so. I-- I'd make him pay for it! I'd make him get me dressesfor those that were lost. "

"Uncle is giving me a home; I suppose he will give me to wear all thathe thinks I need. But I shall have to wear this dress to school, andit will soon not be fit to wear anywhere else. "

"It's just too mean for anything, Ruth! I just wish--"

What Miss Cameron wished she did not proceed to explain. She stoppedand bit her lip, looking at her friend all the time and nodding. Ruthwas busily wiping her eyes and did not notice the very wise expressionon Helen's face. 

"Look out! here comes Tom, " whispered Helen, suddenly, and Ruth made alast dab at her eyes and put away her handkerchief in a hurry. 

"Say! ain't you ever going to get that thing done?" demanded Tom. "Seems to me you haven't done anything at all since I was here last. "

The girls became very busy then and worked swiftly until the pillowwas completed. By that time it was late afternoon and they startedhomeward. Ruth separated from Helen and Tom at the main road andwalked alone toward the Red Mill. She came to the bridge, which was atthe corner of her uncle's farm, and climbed the stile, intending tofollow the path up through the orchard to the rear of the house-- thesame path by which she and her friends had started on their littlejaunt in the morning. 

The brook which ran into the river, and bounded this lower end of Mr. Potter's place, was screened by clumps of willows. Just beyond thefirst group of saplings Ruth heard a rough voice say:

"And I tell you to git out! Go on the other side of the crick, JasperParloe, if ye wanter fish. That ain't my land, but this is. "

"Ain't ye mighty brash, Jabe?" demanded the snarling voice of Parloe, and Ruth knew the first speaker to be her uncle. "Who are yeou terdrive me away?"

"The last time ye was at the mill I lost something-- I lost more thanI kin afford to lose again, " continued Uncle Jabez. "I don't say yetook it. They tell me the flood took it. But I'm going to know theright of it some time, and if you know more about it than you ought--"

"What air ye talkin' about, Jabe Potter?" shrilled Parloe. "I've lostmoney by you; ye ain't never paid me for the last month I worked forye. "

"Ye paid yerself-- ye paid yerself, " said Jabe, tartly. "And if yestole once ye would again--"

"Now stop right there, Jabe Potter!" cried Parloe, and Ruth knew thathe had stepped closer to Mr. Potter, and was speaking in a tremblingrage. "Don't ye intermate an' insinerate; for if ye do, I kin flingout some insinerations likewise. Yeou jest open yer mouth about mestealin' an' I'll put a flea in old man Cameron's ear. Ha! Ye knowwhat I mean. Better hev a care, Jabe Potter-- better hev a care!"

There was silence. Her uncle made no reply, and Ruth, fearing shewould be seen, and not wishing to be thought an eavesdropper (althoughthe conversation had so surprised and terrified her that she had notthought what she did, before) the girl ran lightly up the hill, leaving the two old men to their wrangle. When Uncle Jabez came in tosupper that evening his scowl was heavier than usual, if that werepossible, and he did not speak to either Ruth or Aunt Alvirah all theevening. 

 CHAPTER XV

 IN SCHOOL

Ruth thought it all over, and she came to this conclusion: Uncle Jabezhad given his permission-- albeit a grumpy one-- and she would beginschool on Monday. The black cloth dress that was so shabby and wouldlook so odd and proverty-stricken among the frocks of the other girls(for she had watched them going to and from school, and already knewsome of them to speak to) would have to be worn, if possible, throughthe term. Perhaps Uncle Jabez might notice how shabby she looked, finally, and give her something more appropriate to wear. Especiallyas it had been through him that her other frocks were lost. 

But it was not an easy thing to face a whole schoolroom full of girlsand boys-- and most of them strangers to her-- looking so "dowdyish. "Ruth's love of pretty things was born in her. She had always takenpride in her appearance, and she felt her shortcomings in this linequicker and more acutely than most girls of her age. 

She faced the school on Monday morning and found it not so hard as shehad supposed. Miss Cramp welcomed her kindly, and put her throughquite a thorough examination to decide her grade. The Darrowtownschools had been so good that Ruth was able to take a high place inthis one, and the teacher seated her among the most advanced of herpupils, although Ruth was younger than some of them. 

The fact that Ruth was well grounded in the same studies that thescholars at this district school were engaged in, made a difficultyfor her at the start. But she did not know it then. She only knew thatMiss Cramp, seating her pupils according to their grade, sent her toan empty seat beside one of the largest girls-- Julia Semple. 

A good many of the girls stared at the new-comer with more thanordinary attention; but Julia immediately turned her back on her newseatmate. Ruth did not, however, give Julia much attention at thetime. She was quite as bashful as most girls of her age; and, too, there were many things during that first session to hold herattention. But at recess she found that Julia walked away from herwithout a word and that most of the girls who seemed to be in hergrade kept aloof, too. As a stranger in the school the girl from theRed Mill felt no little unhappiness at this evident slight; but shewas too proud to show her disappointment. She made friends with theyounger girls and was warmly welcomed in their games and pastimes. 

"Julia's mad at you, you see, " one of her new acquaintances confidedto Ruth. 

"Mad at me? What for?" asked the surprised new scholar. 

"Why, that seat was Rosy Ball's. Rosy has gone away to see her sistermarried and she's coming back to-morrow. If you hadn't come in to takeher place, Rosy would have been let sit beside Julia again, of course, although like enough she's fallen behind the class. Miss Cramp is verystrict. "

"But I didn't know that. I couldn't help it, " cried Ruth. 

"Just the same, Julia says she doesn't like you and that you're anobody-- that Jabe Potter has taken you in out of charity. And Juliapretty nearly bosses everything and everybody around this school. Herfather, Mr. Semple, you see, is chairman of the school board. "

Her plain-spoken friend never realized how much she was hurting Ruthby telling her this. Ruth's pride kept her up, nor would she makefurther overtures toward friendship with her classmates. Shedetermined, during those first few days at the district school, thatshe would do her very best to get ahead and to win the commendation ofher teacher. There was a splendid high school at Cheslow, and shelearned that Miss Cramp could graduate pupils from her school directlyinto the Cheslow High. It was possible, the teacher assured her, forRuth to fit herself for such advancement between that time and thefall term. 

It seemed as though Ruth could never make her crotchety old uncle loveher. As time passed, the loss of his cash-box seemed to prey upon themiller's mind more and more. He never spoke of it in the house again;it is doubtful if he spoke of it elsewhere. But the loss of the moneyincreased (were that possible) his moroseness. He often spoke toneither the girl nor Aunt Alvirah from sunrise to sunset. 

But although Uncle Jabez was so moody and so unkind to her, in thelittle old woman, whose back and whose bones gave her so much trouble, Ruth found a loving and thoughtful friend. Aunt Alvirah was astroubled at first about Ruth's lack of frocks as the girl was herself. But before Ruth had been attending school a week, she suddenly becamevery light-hearted upon the question of dress. 

"Now, don't you fret about it, deary, " said Aunt Alviry, wagging herhead knowingly. "Gals like you has jest got ter hev frocks, an' thegood Lord knows it, jest the same as He knows when a sparrer falls. There'll be a way pervided-- there'll be a way pervided. Ef I can'tmake ye a purty dress, 'cause o' my back an' my bones, there's themthat kin. We'll hev Miss 'Cretia Lock in by the day, and we'll make'em. "

"But, dear, " said Ruth, wonderingly, "how will we get the goods-- andthe trimmings-- and pay Miss Lock for her work?"

"Don't you fret about that. Jest you wait and see, " declared AuntAlvirah, mysteriously. 

Ruth knew very well that the old woman had not a penny of her own. Uncle Jabez would never have given her a cent without knowing justwhat it was for, and haggling over the expenditure then, a good deal. To his view, Aunt Alviry was an object of his charity, too, althoughfor more than ten years the old woman had kept his house like wax andhad saved him the wages of a housekeeper. 

This very day, on coming home from school, Ruth had met Doctor Davisoncoming away from the Red Mill. She thought the red and white mare, that was so spirited and handsome, had been tied to the post in frontof the kitchen door, and that the physician must have called upon AuntAlvirah. 

"So this is the young lady who wouldn't stop at my house but went toSam Curtis' to stay all night, " he said, holding in the mare andlooking down at Ruth. "And you haven't been past the gate with thegreen eyes since?"

"No, sir, " Ruth said, timidly. "I have never even been to town. "

"No. Or you would not have failed to see the Curtises again. At least, I hope you'll see them. Mercy has never ceased talking about you. "

"The lame girl, sir?" cried Ruth, in wonder. "Why, she spoke awfullyunkindly to me, and I thought her mother only thought I would feel badand wanted to smooth it over, when she asked me to come again. "

"No, " said the doctor, seriously, shaking his head. "Nobody knowsMercy like her mother. That's not to be expected. She's a poor, unfortunate, cramp-minded child. I've done what I can for her back--she has spinal trouble; but I can do little for Mercy's twisted andwarped mind. She tells me she has cramps in her back and legs and Itell her she has worse cramps in her mind. Bright! Why, child, sheknows more than most grown folks. Reads every book she can get holdof; there is scarcely a child in the Cheslow High School who couldcompete with her for a month in any study she had a mind to take holdof. But, " and the doctor shook his head again, "her mind's warped andcramped because of her affliction. "

"I pitied her, " said Ruth, quietly. 

"But don't tell her so. Go and see her again-- that's all. And mindyou don't come to town without turning in at the gate with the greeneyes;" and so saying he let the eager mare out and she swiftly carriedhim away. 

It was after this Aunt Alvirah seemed so confident that a way would beprovided for Ruth to get the frocks that she so sadly needed. On thevery next day, when Ruth came home from school, she found the littleold lady in a flutter of excitement. 

"Now, Ruthie, " she whispered, "you mustn't ask too many questions, andI'll surely tell ye a gre't secret, child. "

"It must be something very nice, Aunt Alviry, or you'd never be likethis. What is it?"

"Now Ruthie, you mustn't ask too many questions, I tell you. But tomake no secret of it, for secrets I do despise, somebody's made you apresent. "

"Made me a present?" gasped Ruth. 

"Now, careful about questions, " warned Aunt Alvirah. "I told you thata way would be pervided for you to have frocks. And it is true. Youare a-goin' to have 'em. "

"Auntie! New frocks!"

"Just as good as new. Ev'ry bit as good as new. Somebody that's--that's seen ye, deary, and knows how badly you want to go to school, and that you need dresses, has given you three. "

"My goodness me!" cried Ruth, clasping her hands. Not three?"

"Yes, my dear. And they're jest as good as new-- about. 'Cretia Lockwon't be two days fixin' 'em over to fit you. And you won't mind, deary, if the little girl who wore them before you is-- is-- Well, deary, she won't never want them any more. "

"Oh, my dear!" cried Ruth. "Three frocks all at once! And-- and I'mnot to ask who gave them to me?"

"That's it. You're not to ask that. I'll git 'em and show you-- Oh, myback and oh, my bones! Oh, my back and oh, my bones!" the old ladyadded, starting from her chair and hobbling out of the room. 

Ruth was so amazed that she hardly knew what her other feelings at themoment might be. But there had sprung into her mind, full-fledged, thesuspicion that Doctor Davison had been the donor of the frocks. Perhaps he had had a little girl sometime, who had died. For Ruth hadquite decided, from what Aunt Alvirah said, that the girl who hadformerly worn the frocks in question was no longer upon earth. 

 CHAPTER XVI

 BEHIND THE GREEN LAMPS

Aunt Alvirah returned in a short time with such a pile of prettycolors over her arm that Ruth gasped with delight, she couldn't helpit The dresses were all nice ginghams, each of a different color, nicely trimmed and delightfully made. They were not too fancy forschool wear, and they were good, practical frocks. 

Ruth had worn her little black and white frocks at school while shewas still in Darrowtown, and had she remained longer Miss True Pettiswould have helped her to make other frocks in colors. It is a sadthing to see a child in black, or black and white, and Ruth's fatherhad been dead now six months. 

"Ye needn't be scart at the colors, child, " said old Aunt Alviry. "Here's this pretty lavender. We'll make that over first. 'Cretia Lockwill be here to-morrow and we'll make a big beginnin'. "

"But what will uncle say?" gasped Ruth, almost bursting withquestions, but being debarred from asking the most important ones. 

"Don't you fret about your Uncle Jabez. He ain't got nothin' ter dowith it, " declared the little old woman, firmly. "Nor he won't saynothin'. "

Which was very true. Uncle Jabez seldom spoke to his niece now. Hismoodiness grew upon him as time passed. And in the evening, as he satover his endless calculations at the kitchen table, the girl and theold woman scarcely dared speak to each other save in whispers. 

Miss Lock worked three days, instead of two, at the Red Mill, helpingAunt Alvirah "dress-make. " How she was paid, Ruth did not know; butshe feared that the pennies Aunt Alvirah saved from her egg andchicken money had done this. However, the shabby black frock was putaway and Ruth blossomed out into as pretty an appearance as any girlattending Miss Cramp's school. 

But she did not make friends among her classmates. Julia Semple hadsuch influence that she seemed to have set all the girls of the higherclass in the district school against Ruth. Julia herself could notpass Ruth without tossing her head and staring at her haughtily; andsometimes she would whisper to her companions and look at the girlfrom the Red Mill in so scornful a way that Ruth could not helpfeeling uncomfortable. 

Indeed, Ruth would have lacked almost all young company had it notbeen for Helen Cameron and Tom. Tom didn't think much of "playing withgirls;" but he could always be depended upon to do anything Ruth andHelen wanted him to. Helen was at the Red Mill often after Ruth'sschool hours, and seldom did a Saturday pass that the two chums didnot spend at least half the day together. Aunt Alvirah declared Ruthshould have Saturday afternoons to herself, and often Helen came inher little pony carriage and drove Ruth about the country. There was afat old pony named Tubby that drew the phaeton, and Tubby jogged alongthe pleasant country roads with them in a most delightfully gypsyishway. 

One Saturday afternoon they went to town. Ruth had never seen Cheslowsave on the night of her arrival and on the following morning, whenshe had started directly after breakfast at the station master's houseto walk to the Red Mill. 

"Why, you'll like Cheslow, " declared Helen, in her enthusiastic way. "It's just as pretty as it can be-- you'll love it! I often drive into shop, and sometimes Mrs. Murchiston goes with me. Get up, Tubby!"

Tubby had to be urged incessantly; exertion was not loved by him. Hewould rather walk than trot; he would rather stand than walk; and healways had the appearance of being asleep-- save when he was at hismanger. 

Ruth remembered that she had been warned not to go past "the gate withthe green eyes" and she told Helen of her promise to Doctor Davison. 

"Oh, splendid!" cried her chum. "I don't know anybody whom I like tocall upon in Cheslow ahead of Doctor Davison. It's almost as good ashaving him come to see you when you're sick. "

"But I don't think, " Ruth objected, "that it's any fun to have anydoctor come to see one on business. "

"You don't half mind being ill when Doctor Davison calls, " declaredHelen, with unabated enthusiasm. "And when you call there! Well, "concluded Helen, with a sigh of anticipation, "you'll soon know whatthat means. He's got a colored Mammy for cook who makes the mostwonderful jumbles and cakes that you ever tasted-- they about melt inpour mouth!"

Ruth soon had the opportunity of judging Mammy 'Liza's goodies forherself, for the doctor was at home, and the girls had scarcely becomeseated in his consultation room when a little colored girl with herwool "done" in innumerable pigtails, like tiny horns, and sticking outall over her brown head in every direction, came in with a tray onwhich was a plate piled high with fancy cakes and two tall glasses ofyellow-gold beaten egg and milk with a dust of nutmeg floating uponthe surface of each glassful. 

"'Liza done sez as how yo'-all might be hongry aftah yo' ride, " saidthe child, timidly, and then darted out of the room before Ruth andHelen could thank her. 

They were munching the goodies when Doctor Davison came smilingly in. 

"That's Mammy 'Liza all over, " he said, shaking his head, but with hisdark eyes twinkling. "I try to keep my young folk in good digestionand she is bound to make a patient of everybody who comes to see me. Cookies and cakes and sweets are what she believes girls live for; orelse she is trying to make customers for my nasty drugs. "

Doctor Davison seemed to have plenty of time to give to the society ofyoung folk who called upon him. And he showed an interest in Ruth andher affairs which warmed our heroine's heart. He wanted to know howshe got along at school, and if it was true that she was trying to"make" the High by the opening of the fall term. 

"Not that I want any of my young folk to travel the road to knowledgetoo steadily, or travel it when their bodily condition is not thebest. But you are strong and well, Ruthie, and you can do a deal thatother girls of your age would find irksome. I shall be proud if youprepare to enter the High at your age. "

And this made Ruth feel more and more sure that Doctor Davison hadtaken interest enough in her career at school to supply the prettyfrocks, one of which she was then wearing. But Aunt Alvirah had warnedher that the frocks were to remain a mystery by the special request ofthe donor, and she could not ask the good old doctor anything aboutthem. His interest in her progress seemed to infer that he expectedRuth to accomplish a great deal in her school, and the girl from theRed Mill determined not to disappoint him. 

When Helen told Doctor Davison where else they intended to call, henodded understandingly. "That is, " he added, "Ruth will call on Mercywhile you do your shopping, Miss Cameron. Oh, yes! that is the betterplan. You know very well that Mercy Curtis won't want to see you, Helen. "

"I don't know why not, " said Helen, pouting. "I know she never treatsanyone nicely, but I don't mind. If it does her good to do what Tomcalls 'bully-ragging, ' I can stand it as well as Ruth-- better, perhaps. "

"No, " said the doctor, gravely. "I have told you before why youshouldn't call there. You have everything that Mercy can possiblydesire. Comparisons with poor Mercy certainly are odious. Ruth, sheknows, is not so fortunately placed in life as yourself. She is not sofortunately placed, indeed, as Mercy is. And Mercy is in an extremelynervous state just now, and I do not wish her to excite herself beyondreason. "

"Well, I declare, " exclaimed Helen, but good-naturedly after all. "Idon't like to be told I'm not wanted anywhere. But if you say so, I'llnot go with Ruth to the house. "

Doctor Davison opened a new topic of conversation by asking after Tom. 

"Oh, his head is all healed up-- you can just barely see the scar, "Helen declared. "And his arm is only a little tender. We think he gotout of it very lucky indeed-- thanks to Ruth here. "

"Yes, thanks to Ruth, " repeated the doctor, his eyes twinkling. 

Ruth was "on pins and needles, " as the saying is, for she very wellremembered what the injured boy had murmured, in his half consciousstate, when they brought him along the road on the stretcher. Had itbeen Jabez Potter who ran down Tom Cameron and forced him down theembankment with his motorcycle? This thought had been bobbing up inRuth's mind ever since she had come to the Red Mill. 

She had seen her uncle driving his team of mules in one of hisreckless moods. She would never forget how the team tore down the longhill and was forced through the flood the day the Minturn dam hadburst. Had Jabez Potter been driving through the dark road where TomCameron was hurt, in any such way as that, he would have run down adozen cyclists without noticing them. 

Fortunately Tom's injury had not been permanent. He was all right now. Ruth felt that she must be loyal to her uncle and say nothing abouther own suspicions; but as long as the matter was discussed betweenHelen and Doctor Davison she was anxious. Therefore she hurried theirdeparture from the kind physician's office, by rising and saying:

"I think we would better go, Helen. You know how slow Tubby is, andperhaps I can give the little Curtis girl some pleasure by calling onher. "

"Without doubt she'll have pleasure, " observed Helen, somewhatbitingly. "She is likely to scold and 'bullyrag' to her heart'scontent. You're such a meek thing that you'll let her. "

"If that's what gives her pleasure, Helen, " said Ruth, with a quietsmile, "why, I guess I can stand it for an hour. "

Doctor Davison had risen likewise, and he went to the front door withthem, his hand resting lightly on Ruth's shoulder. 

"You have the right idea of it, Ruthie, " he said. "Let Mercy take herpleasure in that way if it's all the pleasure she can get. But perhapsa better mind as well as a better body may come to the poor child intime. " Then to Ruth he added, more personally: "Remember you have afriend in here behind the green lamps. Don't forget to come to himwith any troubles you may have. Perhaps I do not look it, but I amsomething like a fairy godmother-- I have a wonderful power oftransmogrification. I can often turn dark clouds inside out and showyou the silver on the other side. "

"I believe that, Doctor Davison, " she whispered, and squeezed his handhard, running after Helen the next moment down the walk. 

 CHAPTER XVII

 TORMENTING MERCY

After they had awakened Tubby and urged him into something resemblinga trot they got into Cheslow proper by degrees. By the light of thevery sunshiny afternoon Ruth thought the town looked far prettier thanany place she had ever seen. This side of the railroad the houses weremostly old-fashioned, and there were few stores. There were many lawnsand pretty, old-time gardens, while the elms and maples met in greenarches overhead so that many of the streets were like rustic tunnels, the sun sifting through the thick branches to make only a fine, lacework pattern upon the walks and driveway. 

They crossed the railroad near the station and struck into MarketStreet. Ruth would not allow Helen to drive her directly to the Curtiscottage. She had remembered Doctor Davison's words, and she thoughtthat perhaps Mercy Curtis might be looking from the window and see hervisitor arrive in the pony cart. So she got down at the corner, promising to meet her friend at that spot in an hour. 

She could see the pretty cottage belonging to the railroad stationagent before she had walked far. Its garden on the side was already abower. But the rustic arbor on which the grape vines were trained wasnot yet sufficiently covered to yield any shelter from the street;therefore Ruth did not expect to find it occupied. 

Just before she reached the cottage, however, she saw two little girlsahead of her, hesitating on the walk. They were talking seriouslytogether when Ruth approached within earshot, and she heard one say tothe other:

"Now, she'll be there in the window. We mustn't notice her, no matterwhat she does or says. You know what mamma said. "

The other child was sobbing softly. "But she made me, oh, such a face!And she chopped her teeth at me just as though she'd bite me! I thinkshe's the very hatefulest thing--"

"Hush! she's greatly to be pitied, " said the older sister, with an airand in a tone that showed she copied it from the "grown-ups" whom shehad heard discussing poor Mercy Curtis. 

"I wish we'd gone 'round the other way, " complained the other child. 

"Now, come on. You needn't look into the window and smile. I'll dothat. "

"No, " said the little one, stubbornly. "I'll go by on the oppositeside of the way. And you must come, too, Anna. She-- she'd bite me ifshe could get the chance. "

"Oh, well! Come on, little silly!" said her sister, and the twocrossed over and Ruth, who watched them interestedly, saw them hurryby the cottage with scarcely a glance at the front windows. 

But Ruth could see the outline of the lame girl's figure at one of thewindows and she saw a lean fist shaken in the air at the two childrengoing by. She could imagine the face Mercy Curtis "pulled, " as well, and did not wonder that the two little ones took to their heels andran away as fast as ever they could. 

But, thus prepared for an unpleasant greeting from, the unfortunateand much to be pitied Mercy, Ruth smiled happily herself and waved herhand at the lame girl's window. Mercy saw her and, for a moment, wasstricken with surprise so that she could neither greet her with frownor smile. She knew the girl from the Red Mill, although she had seenher so many weeks before; but Ruth ran into the yard and up the porchsteps at the side of the house, and knocked at the door before thelame girl recovered from her amazement. 

The motherly Mrs. Curtis came to the door and, the moment she saw whoit was, received Ruth with open arms. 

"You dear child! I am so glad you have come again. Did Doctor Davisontell you?" she whispered. 

"He told me that Mercy would be glad to see me again; but I shouldhave come before, as I promised, if I could have gotten in, " Ruthsaid. "Will she see me?"

"She is not so well to-day, " sighed the harassed mother. "This is oneof her days of torment. I do not know how she will treat you, RuthFielding; but don't mind what she says to you, dear. Your being herewill take her mind off her pain and off her own self. "

Ruth laid aside her hat and coat and went into the sitting room. Thecrippled girl was in her wheel chair by the window. The instant Ruthentered she seized the wheels on either side and propelled the chairacross the room in a sudden dash that threatened to run her visitordown. And her face was screwed up into such a mean look, and her eyesflashed so angrily, that Ruth was startled for a moment. But she stoodher ground and instead of colliding with her, the nervous handsbrought the chair to a sudden stop right before her. 

"Thought you were going to be run down; didn't you?" snapped Mercy. "I'd ought to break your legs-- you run on them so fine. Showing off;wasn't you?"

She was offended because Ruth had run so lightly into the cottage andthe girl from the Red Mill made a decision there and then that shewould never come in to see Mercy again saving at a sedate walk. Butshe laughed lightly, and said:

"Do you want me to come on crutches, Mercy? That wouldn't help you abit. "

She put out her hand to take the lame girl's, but Mercy struck itsmartly with her own, then whirled her chair around and returned toher former position by the window. She handled the wheel chair withremarkable dexterity, and Ruth, following her and taking a neighboringchair said:

"How quick you are! You get around your room so nicely. I think that'sfine. "

"You do; do you?" snapped the cripple. "If you'd been tied to thischair like I have, you'd be quick, too. I suppose it's something forme to be grateful for; eh?"

"It must be a lot better than lying abed all the time, " said Ruth, quietly. 

"Oh, yes! I suppose so!" snapped Mercy. Her conversation was mostlymade up of snaps and snarls. "Everybody tells me all about how happy Iought to be because I'm not worse off than I am. That's theirtormenting ways-- I know 'em! There!" she added, looking out of thewindow. "Here's another of those dratted young ones!"

Ruth glanced out, too. A lady was coming along the walk holding alittle boy by the hand. Before they reached the cottage the little boysaid something to his mother and then broke away from her hand andwent to the other side of her, nearest the curb. 

"There! he's hiding from me, " said Mercy, bitterly. 

The lady looked up and smiled pleasantly, but the cripple onlyreturned her pleasant salutation with a cold nod. The child peeped outfrom around his mother's skirt. 

"There! go along, you nasty little thing!" muttered Mercy. "See himtrot on his little fat legs. I wish a dog would bite 'em!" It wasuseless, Ruth saw, to try and bring the cripple to a better mind. Butshe ignored her sallies at people who went by the window, and began totalk about the Red Mill and all that had happened to her since she hadcome to live with Uncle Jabez. Gradually she drew Mercy's attentionfrom the street. She told about the flood, and how she, with Helen andTom, had raced in the big automobile down the river road to warn thepeople that the water was coming. Mercy's eyes grew big with wonderand she listened with increasing interest. 

"That's a nice place to live-- that mill, " the cripple finallyadmitted, grudgingly. "And it's right on the river, too!"

"I can look 'way up and down the river from my window the first thingwhen I get up in the morning, " Ruth said. "It's very pretty atsunrise. And then, the orchard and the fields are pretty. And I liketo see the men ploughing and working the land. And the garden stuff isall coming up so pretty and green. "

"I've got a garden, too. But it's not warm enough yet to plant manyflower seeds, " said Mercy. 

"I suppose, when it comes warm, you can sit out in the arbor?"

"When the grape leaves get big enough to hide me-- yes, " said Mercy. "I don't go into the garden excepting in schooltime. Then the youngones aren't always running by and tormenting me, " snapped the cripple, chopping off her speech at the end. 

She was a self-tormentor. It was plain that the poor child madeherself very miserable by believing that everybody possessing a strongback and lively legs felt his or her superiority to her and delightedin "showing off" before her. The girl of the Red Mill felt only pityfor a sufferer possessing such an unfortunate disposition. 

She tried to turn the conversation always into pleasant channels. Sheheld Mercy's interest in the Red Mill and her life there. She told herof the broods of downy chicks that she cared for, and thebutter-making, and the household tasks she was able to help AuntAlviry about. 

"And don't you go to school?" demanded Mercy. 

"I am going now. I hope this spring and summer to prepare myself forentering the Cheslow High. "

"And then you'll be in town every day?" said Mercy, with one of heroccasional wistful looks. 

"I hope to. I don't know how I will get here. But I mean to try. MissCramp says if I'll come two or three times a week this summer, afterour school doses, that she will help me to prepare for the High Schoolexams. , so I can enter at the beginning of the fall term. 

"I know Miss Cramp, " said Mercy. "She lives on this street. You'll beso busy then that you'll never get in to see me at all, I suppose. "

"Why, I can come much oftener, " cried Ruth. "Of course I will. "

If Mercy was pleased by this statement, she would not show it. 

"I studied to enter High, " she said, after a little silence. "Butwhat's the use? I'll never go to school again. Reading books isn't anyfun. Just studying, and studying, and studying doesn't get youanywhere. "

"Why, I should think that would be nice, " Ruth declared. "You've gotso much chance to study. You see, you don't have to work around thehouse, or outside, and so you have all your time to devote to study. Ishould like that. "

"Yah!" snarled Mercy, in her most unpleasant way. "That's what yousay. I wish you were here to try it, and I could be out to the RedMill. " Then she paid more softly: "I'd like to see that mill and theriver-- and all the things you tell about. "

"You wait!" cried Ruth. "I'll ask Uncle Jabez and Aunt Alviry. Maybewe can fix it so you could come out and see me. Wouldn't that befine?"

"Yah!" snarled the cripple again. "I'll never get that far away fromthis old chair. "

"Perhaps not; but you might bring the chair with you, ", returned Ruth, unshaken. "Wait till vacation. I'll not give up the idea until I'veseen if it can't be arranged. "

That the thought pleased Mercy, the cripple could not deny. Her eyesshone and a warmth of unusual color appeared in her thin cheeks. Hermother came in with a tray of cakes and lemonade, and Mercy becamequite pleasant as she did the honors. Having already eaten her fill atthe doctor's, Ruth found it a little difficult to do justice to thiscollation; but she would not hurt Mercy's feelings by refusing. 

The hour passed in more pleasant converse. The cripple's mind wasevidently coaxed from its wrong and unhappy thoughts. When Ruth roseto leave, promising to come again as soon as she could get into town, Mercy was plainly softened. 

"You just hate to come-- I know you do!" she said, but she said itwistfully. "Everybody hates to come to see me. But I don't mind havingyou come as much as I do them. Oh, yes; you can come again if youwill, " and she gave Ruth her hand at parting. 

Mrs. Curtis put her arms about the girl from the Red Mill and kissedher warmly at the door. 

"Dear, dear!" said the cripple's mother, "how your own mother wouldhave loved you, if she had lived until now. You are like sunshine inthe house. "

So, after waving her hand and smiling at the cripple in the window, Ruth went slowly back to the corner to meet Helen, and found herselfwiping some tender tears from her eyes because of Mrs. Curtis's words. 

 CHAPTER XVIII

 THE SPELLING BEE

In spite of the fact that the big girls at the district school, led byJulia Semple, whose father was the chairman of the board of trustees, had very little to say to Ruth Fielding, and shunned her almostaltogether outside of the schoolroom, Ruth was glad of her chance tostudy and learn. She brought home no complaints to Aunt Alvirahregarding the treatment she received from the girls of her own class, and of course uncle Jabez never spoke to her about her schooling, norshe to him. 

At school Ruth pleased Miss Cramp very much. She had gradually workedher way toward the top of the class-- and this fact did not make herany more friends. For a new scholar to come into the school and showherself to be quicker and more thorough in her preparation forrecitations than the older scholars naturally made some of the lattermore than a little jealous. 

Up to this time Ruth had never been to the big yellow house on thehill-- "Overlook, " as Mr. Macy Cameron called his estate. Alwayssomething had intervened when Ruth was about to go. But Helen and Tominsisted upon the very next Saturday following the girls' trip toCheslow as the date when Ruth must come to the big house to luncheon. The Camerons lived all of three miles from the Red Mill; otherwiseRuth would in all probability have been to her chum's home before. 

Tom agreed to run down in the machine for his sister's guest athalf-past eleven on the day in question, and Ruth hurried her tasks asmuch as possible so as to be all ready when he appeared in the bigdrab automobile. She even rose a little earlier, and the way she flewabout the kitchen and porch at her usual Saturday morning tasks was, as Aunt Alvirah said, "a caution. " But before Tom appeared Ruth saw, on one of her excursions into the yard, the old, dock-tailed, bonyhorse of Jasper Parloe drawing that gentleman in his rickety wagon upto the mill door. 

"Hi, Jabe!" called Jasper, in his cracked voice. "Hi, Jabe! Here's agrindin' for ye. And for massy's sake don't take out a double toll asyou us'ally do. Remember I'm a poor man-- I ain't got lashin's ofmoney like you to count ev'ry night of my life-- he, he, he!"

The boy had appeared at the mill door first, and he stepped down andwould have taken the bag of grain out of the wagon, had not the millerhimself suddenly appeared and said, in his stern way:

"Let it be. "

"Hi, Jabe!" cackled Jasper. "Don't be mean about it. He's younger thanme, or you. 

Let him shoulder the sack into the mill. "

"The sack isn't coming into the mill, " said Jabez, shortly. 

"What? what?" cried Parloe. "You haven't retired from business; haveyou, miller? Ye ain't got so wealthy that ye ain't goin' to grind anymore?"

"I grind for those whom it pleases me to grind for, " said the miller, sternly. 

"Then take in the bag, boy, " said Jasper, still grinning. 

But Mr. Potter waved the boy away, and stood looking at Jasper withfolded arms and a heavy frown upon his face. 

"Come, come, Jabe! you keep a mill. You grind for the public, youknow, " said Jasper. 

"I grind no more for you, " rejoined the miller. "I have told you so. Get you gone, Jasper Parloe. "

"No, " said the latter, obstinately. "I am going to have my meal. "

"Not here, " said the miller. 

"Now, that's all nonsense, Jabe, " exclaimed Jasper Parloe, wagging hishead. "Ye know ye can't refuse me. "

"I do refuse you. "

"Then ye'll take the consequences, Jabe-- ye'll take the consequences. Ye know very well if I say the word to Mr. Cameron--"

"Get away from here!" commanded Potter, interrupting. "I want nothingto do with you. "

"You mean to dare me; do ye, Jabe?" demanded Jasper, with an evilsmile. 

"I don't mean to have anything to do with a thief, " growled themiller, and turning on his heel went back into the mill. 

It was just then that Ruth spied the automobile coming down the roadwith Tom Cameron at the steering wheel. Ruth bobbed into the house ina hurry, with a single wave of her hand to Tom, for she was not yetquite ready. When she came down five minutes later, with a freshribbon in her hair and one of the new frocks that she had never wornbefore looking its very trimmest, Jasper Parloe had alighted from hisramshackle wagon and was talking with Tom, who still sat in theautomobile. 

And as Ruth stood in the porch a moment, while Aunt Alvirah proudlylooked her over to see that she was all right, the girl saw by theexpression on Tom's face that whatever Parloe talked about was notpleasing the lad in the least. 

She saw, too, that Tom pulled something from his pocket hastily andthrust it into Parloe's hand. The old man chuckled slily, saidsomething else to the boy, and then turned away and climbed into hiswagon again. He drove away as Ruth ran down the path to the waitingauto. 

"Hullo, Tom!" she cried. "I told you I wouldn't keep you waitinglong. "

"How-do, Ruth, " he returned; but it must be confessed that he was notas bright and smiling as usual, and he looked away from Ruth and afterParloe the next moment. 

As the girl reached the machine Uncle Jabez came to the mill dooragain. He observed Ruth about to get in and he came down the steps andstrode toward the Cameron automobile. Jasper Parloe had clucked to hisold nag and was now rattling away from the place. 

"Where are you going, Ruth?" the miller demanded, sternly eyeing TomCameron, and without returning the lad's polite greeting. 

"She is going up to our house to lunch with my sister, Mr. Potter, "Tom hastened to say before Ruth could reply. 

"She will do nothing of the kind, " said Uncle Jabez, shortly. "Ruth, go back to the house and help your Aunt Alvirah. You are going abouttoo much and leaving your aunt to do everything. "

This was not so, and Ruth knew very well that her uncle knew it wasnot so. She flushed and hesitated, and he said:

"Do you hear me? I expect to be obeyed if you remain here at the RedMill. Just because I lay few commands upon you, is no reason why youshould consider it the part of wisdom to be disobedient when I do givean order. "

"Oh, Uncle! do let me go, " begged Ruth, fairly crying. "Helen has beenso kind to me-- and Aunt Alvirah did not suppose you would object. They come here--"

"But I do not propose that they shall come here any more, " declaredUncle Jabez, in the same stern tone. "You can drive on, young man. Theless I see of any of you Camerons the better I shall like it. "

"But, Mr. Potter--" began Tom. 

The old man raised his hand and stopped him. 

"I won't hear any talk about it. I know just how much these Cameronshave done for you, " he said to Ruth. "They've done enough-- altogethertoo much. We will stop this intimacy right here and now. At least, youwill not go to their house, Ruth. Do as I tell you-- go in to yourAunt Alviry. "

Then, as the weeping girl turned away, she heard him say, even moreharshly than he had spoken to her: "I don't want anything to do withpeople who are hand and glove with that Jasper Parloe. He's a thief--a bigger thief, perhaps, than people generally know. At least, he'scost me enough. Now, you drive on and don't let me see you or yoursister about here again. "

He turned on his heel and went back to the mill without giving Tomtime to say a word. The boy, angry enough, it was evident from hisexpression of countenance, hesitated several minutes after the millerwas gone. Once he arose, as though he would get out of the car andfollow Jabez into the mill. But finally he started the engine, turnedthe car, and drove slowly away. 

This was a dreadful day indeed for the girl of the Red Mill. Never inher life had she been so hurt-- never had she felt herself so ill-usedsince coming to this place to live. Uncle Jabez had never been reallykind to her; but aside from the matter of the loss of her trunk he hadnever before been actually cruel. 

He could have selected no way that would have hurt her more keenly. Torefuse to let her go to see the girl she loved-- her only close friendand playmate! And to refuse to allow Helen and Tom to come here to seeher! This intimacy was all (and Ruth admitted it now, in a torrent oftears, as she lay upon her little bed) that made life at the Red Millendurable. Had she not met Helen and found her such a dear girl and sokind a companion, Ruth told herself now that she never could haveborne the dull existence of this house. 

She heard Aunt Alvirah's halting step upon the stair and before theold woman reached the top of the flight, Ruth plainly heard hermoaning to herself: "Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!" Thus groaning andhalting, Aunt Alvirah came to Ruth's door and pushed it open. 

"Oh, deary, deary, me!" she whispered, limping into the room. "Don't-ee cry no more, poor lamb. Old Aunt Alviry knows jest how ithurts-- she wishes she could bear it for ye! Now, now, my prettycreetur-- don't-ee take on so. Things will turn out all right yet. Don't lose hope. "

She had reached the bed ere this and had gathered the sobbing girlinto her arms. She sat upon the side of the bed and rocked Ruth to andfro, with her arms about her. She did not say much more, but herunspoken sympathy was wonderfully comforting. 

Aunt Alvirah did not criticise Uncle Jabez's course. She never did. But she gave Ruth in her sorrow all the sympathy of which her greatnature was capable. She seemed to understand just how the girl felt, without a spoken word on her part. She did not seek to explain themiller's reason for acting as he did. Perhaps she had less idea thanhad Ruth why Jabez Potter should have taken such a violent dislike tothe Camerons. 

For Ruth half believed that she held the key to that mystery. When shecame to think it over afterward she put what she had heard between thetwo old men-- Jabez and Parloe-- down at the brook, with what hadoccurred at the mill just before Tom Cameron had come in sight; andputting these two incidents together and remembering that JasperParloe had overheard Tom in his delirium accuse the miller of beingthe cause of his injury, Ruth was pretty sure that in that combinationof circumstances was the true explanation of Uncle Jabez's crueldecision. 

Ruth was not the girl to lie on her bed and weep for long. She wassensible enough to know very well that such a display ofdisappointment and sorrow would not better the circumstances. Whileshe remained at the Red Mill she must obey Uncle Jabez, and hisdecisions could not be controverted. She had never won a place nearenough to the miller's real nature to coax him, or to reason with himregarding this gruff decision he had made. She had to make up her mindthat, unless something unexpected happened to change Uncle Jabez, shewas cut off from much future association with her dear chum, HelenCameron. 

She got up in a little while, bathed her face and eyes, and kissedAunt Alvirah warmly. 

"You are a dear!" she declared, hugging the little old woman. "Come! Iwon't cry any more. I'll come down stairs with you, Auntie, and helpget dinner. "

But Ruth could eat none herself. She did not feel as though she couldeven sit at the table with Uncle Jabez that noon, and remained outsidewhile the miller ate. He never remarked upon her absence, or paid herthe least attention. Oh, how heartily Ruth wished now that she hadnever come away from Darrowtown and had never seen the Red Mill. 

The next Monday morning the rural mail carrier brought her a longletter from Helen. Uncle Jabez had not said anything against acorrespondence; indeed, Ruth did not consider that he had more thanrefused to have the Camerons come to see her or she to return theirvisits. If she met them on the road, or away from the house, she didnot consider that it would be disobeying Uncle Jabez to associate withHelen and Tom. 

This letter from Helen was very bitter against the miller and wildlyproposed that Ruth should run away from the Red Mill and come toOverlook to live. She declared that her papa would not object--indeed, that everybody would warmly welcome the appearance of RuthFielding "even if she came like a tramp "; and that Tom would lingerabout the Red Mill for an hour or two every evening so that Ruth couldslip out and communicate with her friends, or could be helped away ifshe wanted to leave without the miller's permission. 

But Ruth, coming now to consider her situation more dispassionately, simply wrote a loving letter in reply to Helen's, entrusting it to thepost, and went on upon her usual way, helping Aunt Alviry, going toschool, and studying harder than ever. She missed Helen'scompanionship vastly; she often wet her pillow with tears at night(and that was not like Ruth) and felt very miserable indeed at times. 

But school and its routine took up a deal of the girl's thought. Herstudies confined her more and more as the end of the term approached. And in addition to the extra work assigned the girl at the Red Mill byMiss Cramp, there was a special study which Ruth wished to excel in. Miss Cramp was old-fashioned enough to believe that spelling was thevery best training for the mind and the memory and that it was apositive crime for any child to grow up to be a slovenly speller. Fourtimes a year Miss Cramp held an old-fashioned "spelling-bee" at theschoolhouse, on designated Friday evenings; and now came the last ofthe four for this school year. 

Ruth had never been an extra good speller, but because her kindteacher was so insistent upon the point, the girl from the Red Millput forth special efforts to please Miss Cramp in this particular. Shehad given much spare time to the study of the spelling book, andparticularly did she devote herself to that study now that she hadn'ther chum to associate with. 

The spelling-bees were attended by the parents of the pupils and allthe neighbors thereabout, and Helen wrote that she and Tom were goingto attend on the evening in question and that Tom said he hoped to seeRuth "just eat up those other girls" when it came to spelling. ButRuth Fielding much doubted her cannibalistic ability in this line. Julia Semple had borne off the honors on two occasions during thewinter, and her particular friend Rosa Ball, had won the odd trial. Now it was generally considered that the final spelling-bee would bethe occasion of a personal trial of strength between the two friendlyrivals. Either Julia or Rosa must win. 

But Ruth was the kind of a person who, in attempting a thing, did hervery best to accomplish it. She had given some time and thought to thespelling book. She was not likely to "go down" before any easy, orwell-known word. Indeed, she believed herself letter perfect in thevery hardest page of the spelling-book some time before the fatefulevening. 

"Oh, perhaps you think you know them all, Ruth Fielding!" exclaimedone of the little girls one day when the spelling-bee was beingdiscussed at recess. "But Miss Cramp doesn't stick to the speller. Youjust wait till she tackles the dictionary. "

"The dictionary!" cried Ruth. 

"That's what Miss Cramp does, " the child assured her. "If she can'tspell them down out of the speller, she begins at the beginning of thedictionary and gives words out until she finds one that floors themall. You wait and see!"

So Ruth thought it would do no harm to study the dictionary a little, and taking her cue from what the little girls said, she remained inbetween sessions and began with "aperse, " committing to memory as wellas she could those words that looked to be "puzzlers. " Before the dayof the spelling-bee she believed that, if Miss Cramp didn't go beyondthe first letter of the alphabet, she would be fairly well grounded inthe words as they came in rotation. 

Ruth knew that every other pupil in the school would have friends inthe audience that evening save herself. She wished that Aunt Alvirahcould have attended the spelling-bee; but of course her back and herbones precluded her walking so far, and neither of them dared askUncle Jabez to hitch up and take them to the schoolhouse in his wagon. 

The schoolhouse was crowded, all the extra seats that could beprovided were arranged in rows, and, it being a mild evening, the menand bigger boys stood outside the open windows. There was a greatbustle and whispering until Miss Cramp's tinkling bell called theaudience as well as the pupils to order. 

The scholars took their places according to their class standing in along row around the room. As one was spelled down he or she took aseat again, and so the class was rapidly thinned out, for many of thelittle folk missed on the very easiest words in the speller. Ruthstood within ten pupils of the head of the line at the beginning andwhen the spelling began she had an encouraging smile and nod fromHelen, who, with her brother, sat where they could see the girl fromthe Red Mill Ruth determined to do her best. 

 CHAPTER XIX

 THE STING OF POVERTY

At first Miss Cramp's "giving out" of the words was like repeatedvolleys of small-arms in this orthographical battle. Every pupil wellknew the pages of two-syllable words beginning, "baker, maker, poker, broker, quaker, shaker" and even the boys rattled these off, grinningthe while in a most sheepish fashion at their elder brothers or theirwomen-folk, who beamed in pride upon them until such lists as "food, soup, meat, bread, dough, butter" bowled over the more shaky ones. 

The first failures (and usually upon comparatively easy words) weregreeted with some laughter, and the ridiculed spellers sought theirseats with hanging heads. By and by, however, the failures were notall at the bottom of the class; here and there such lists as "inane, profane, humane, insane, mundane, urbane, " or, "staid, unlaid, mermaid, prayed, weighed, portrayed" began to pick out uncertain onesthe entire length of the line. 

Miss Cramp shot out word after word, her spectacles gleaming and hereyes twinkling. The grim little smile upon her lips when one big girlabove Ruth went down before "forswear, " spelling it with an extra "e, "showed that the teacher considered the miss deserved to fail becauseof her heedlessness. Then, when she reached the list ending in "ay, eyand eigh" they fell like ripe huckleberries all down the line. "Inveigh" dropped so many that it was indeed a massacre, and some ofthe nervous spellers got together such weird combinations of lettersto represent that single word that the audience was soon in a veryhilarious state. 

"Move up, " commanded Miss Cramp to the pupils left standing, and therewas a great clumping of feet as the line closed up. Not more than twodozen were standing by this time, and half an hour had not passed. Butafter that it was another story. The good spellers remained. Theyspelled carefully and quietly and a hush fell upon the whole room asMiss Cramp gave out the words with less haste and more precision. 

The "seeds, " as all the children called the puzzling list, flooredtwo, and several of the best spellers had to think carefully while thelist was being given out: "proceed, succeed, exceed, accede, secede, recede, impede, precede, concede, antecede, intercede, supersede. "Fortunately Ruth, who now kept her eyes upon Miss Cramp's face, spelled carefully and correctly, without any sign of hesitancy. Thematch went on then, for page after page, without a pupil failing. Perhaps there was hesitation at times, but Miss Cramp gave anydeserving scholar ample time. 

Page after page of the spelling-book was turned. That tricksey littlelist of "goblin, problem, conduct, rocket, pontiff, compact, prospect, ostrich" finally left but three scholars between Ruth and Julia at thehead of the class. One of these was Oliver Shortsleeves, a FrenchCanadian lad whose parents had Anglicised their name when they camedown into New York State. He was as sharp as could be and he hadpushed Julia Semple and Rosa Ball hard before in the spelling matches. But he was the only boy left standing within the next few minutes, andagain the pupils moved up. There were but fifteen of them. Rosa Ballcame next to Ruth, below her, and the girl from the Red Mill knew verywell that Miss Ball would only be too delighted to spell her, Ruth, down. 

Indeed, when Ruth waited a moment before spelling" seraglio, " Rosa inher haste blurted out the word, and Julia smiled and there was alittle rustle of expectancy. It was evident that many of the scholars, as well as the audience, thought Ruth had failed. 

"Wait!" exclaimed Miss Cramp, sharply. "Did I pass that word to you, Rosa?"

"No, ma'am; but I thought

"Never mind what you thought. You know the rule well enough, " saidMiss Cramp. "That will be your word, and I will give Ruth Fieldinganother. Spell 'seraglio' again, Rosa. "

"'S e r a l g i o', " spelled Rosa. 

"I thought in your haste to get ahead of Ruth you spelled it wrongly, Rosa, " said Miss Cramp, calmly. "You may go down. Next-- 'Seraglio. '"

Miss Ball went down in tears-- angry tears-- but there was not muchsympathy shown her by the audience, and little by her fellow-pupils. It was soon seen that there was some sort of rivalry between Ruth andJulia, and that the girl from the Red Mill had not been treatedfairly. 

Oliver Shortsleeves became sadly twisted up after hearing thoseimmediately before him spell in succession "schooner, tetrarch, pibroch and anarchy" and tried to spell "architrave" with so manyletters that he would have needed no more to have spelled it twiceover. So Ruth then became fourth in the line. She continued to spellcarefully and serenely. Nothing disturbed her poise, for she neitherlooked around the room nor gave heed to anything that went on saveMiss Cramp's distinctly uttered words, On and on went the steady voice of Miss Cramp. She bowled over onepupil with "microcosm, " another the next minute with "metonymy ";"nymphean" and "naphtha" sent two more to their seats; while thesilent "m" in "mnemonics" cut a most fearful swath in the remainder, so that after the smoke of that bomb was dissipated only Julia, Ruth, and two others stood of all the class. 

Julia Semple had darted many angry glances et Ruth since the cuttingdown of her friend, Rosa Ball, and her flaunting of the girl from theRed Mill, and her scornful looks, might easily have disturbed Ruth hadthe latter not been wise enough to keep her own gaze fixed upon theteacher. 

Helen and Tom were delighted and plainly showed their enjoyment ofRuth's success. Now, as the situation became more strained, theaudience applauded when one of the spellers overcame a more thanordinarily difficult word. So that when the girl next to Ruth missed"tergiversation" and it passed to the girl from the Red Mill, whospelled it without hesitation, and correctly, Helen applauded softly, while Tom audibly exclaimed: "Good for Ruthie!"

This did not make Julia Semple any more pleasant. She actually lookedacross at Helen and Tom and scowled at them. It had already begun tobe whispered about the room that the match was easily Julia's-- thatshe was sure to win; and Mr. Semple, the chairman of the trustees, whosat on the platform with the teacher, looked very well satisfiedindeed. 

But Miss Cramp had come down now to the final words in the speller--down to "zenith" and "zoology. " And still there were three standing. Miss Cramp looked for a moment as though she would like to announcethe match a tie between the trio, for it was plain there would be hardfeelings engendered among some of the audience, as well as the pupils, if the match continued. Her custom had been, however, to go on to thebitter end-- to spell down the very last one, and she could not easilymake a change in her method now. 

A general sigh and whispering went around when she was seen to reachfor the academic dictionary which was always the foundation of thetower of books upon the northeast corner of Miss Cramp's desk. Sheopened the volume and shot out the word: "Aperse. "

The girl standing between Ruth and Julia staggered along until theyreached "abstinence "; she put an "e" instead of an "i" in the middlesyllable, and went down. But the audience applauded her. Julia Semplebegan to hesitate now. The end was near. Perhaps she had never takenthe time to follow down the rows of words in the dictionary. At"acalycal" she stumbled, started twice, then stopped and asked to haveit repeated. 

"'Acalycal, '" said Miss Cramp, steadily. 

"'A c a l l y c a l, '" stammered Julia. 

"Wrong, " said Miss Cramp, dispassionately. 

"Next. 'Acalycal'?"

Ruth spelled it with two 'l's' only and Miss Cramp looked up quickly. 

"Right, " she said. "You may step down, Julia. It has been our customto keep on until the winner is spelled down, too. Next word, Ruth:'acalycine. '"

But there was such a buzz of comment that Miss Cramp looked up again. Julia Semple had seemed half stunned for the moment. Then she wheeledon Ruth and said, in a sharp whisper:

"I saw that Cameron girl spell it for you! She's been helping you allthe time! Everybody knows she's patronizing and helping you. Why, you're wearing her old, cast-off clothes. You've got one of herdresses on now! Pauper!"

Ruth started back, her face turned red, then white, as though she hadbeen struck. The smarting tears started to her eyes, and blinded her. 

"Julia! take your seat instantly!" said Miss Cramp, more sharply. "Ruth! spell 'acalycine. '"

But Ruth could not open her lips. Had she done so she would have burstinto tears. And she could not have spelled the word right-- nor anyother word right-- at that moment. She merely shook her head andfollowed Julia to her seat, stumblingly, while a dead silence fellupon the room. 

 CHAPTER XX

 UNCLE JABEZ IS MYSTERIOUS

Miss Cramp was in the habit of calling upon some trustee to speak atthe close of the exercises-- usually Mr. Semple-- and then there was alittle social time before the assemblage broke up. But the frown onthe chairman's face did not suggest that that gentleman had anythingvery jovial to say at the moment, and the teacher closed the exercisesherself in a few words that were not at all personal to the winner ofthe spelling-match. 

When the stir of people moving about aroused Ruth, her only thoughtwas to get away from the schoolhouse. Perhaps not more than two dozenpeople had distinctly heard what Julia so cruelly said to her; but itseemed to the girl from the Red Mill as though everybody in thatthrong knew that she was a charity child-- that, as Julia said, thevery frock she had on belonged to somebody else. 

And to Helen! She had never for a moment suspected that Helen had beenthe donor of the three frocks. Of course everybody in the neighborhoodhad known all the time that she was wearing Helen's cast-off clothing. Everybody but Ruth herself would have recognized the dresses; she hadbeen in the neighborhood so short a time that, of course, she was notvery well acquainted with Helen's wardrobe. 

At the moment she could not feel thankful to her chum. She could onlyremember Julia's cutting words, and feel the sting to her pride thatshe should have shown herself before all beholders the recipient ofher friend's alms. 

Nobody spoke to her as she glided through the moving crowd and reachedthe door. Miss Cramp was delayed in getting to her; Helen and Tom didnot see her go, for they were across the room and farthest from thedoor. And so she reached the exit and slipped out. 

The men and boys from outside thronged the tiny anteroom and thesteps. As she pushed through them one man said:

"Why, here's the smart leetle gal that took Semple's gal down a peg--eh? She'd oughter have a prize for that, that's what she ought!"

But Ruth could not reply to this, although she knew it was meantkindly. She went out into the darkness. There were many horses hitchedabout the schoolhouse, but she reached the clear road in safety andran toward the Red Mill. 

The girl came to the mill and went quietly into the kitchen. She hadgot the best of her tears now, but Aunt Alviry's bright eyesdiscovered at once that she was unhappy. Uncle Jabez did not evenraise his eyes when she came in. 

"What is the matter with my pretty leetle creetur?" whispered the oldwoman, creeping close to Ruth. 

"Nothing is the matter now, " returned Ruth, in the same low tone. 

"Didn't you do well?" asked the old woman, wistfully. 

"I won the spelling match, " replied Ruth. "I stood up longer thananybody else. "

"Is that so!" exclaimed Aunt Alvirah, with pride. "I told ye so, Ruthie. And ye beat that Semple gal?"

"She was the last one to fail before me, " Ruth returned. 

"Well, well! D'ye hear that, Jabez? Our Ruth won the spellin'-match. "

The miller did not raise his head from his accounts; only grunted andnodded. 

"But something went wrong wi' ye, deary?" persisted Aunt Alvirah, watching Ruth's face closely. 

"Oh, Auntie! why didn't you tell me that Helen gave me the frocks?"

"Deary, deary, me!" ejaculated Aunt Alvirah. "How did you know?"

"Julia Semple told me-- she told me before everybody!" gasped Ruth, fighting hard to keep back the tears. "She called me a pauper! Shecalled it out before them all, and said that I wore Helen's cast-offclothes!"

"The mean thing!" said Aunt Alvirah, with more sharpness then sheusually expressed. "Isn't that jest like the Semples? They're all thatway. Got mad with you because you beat her at spelling; eh?"

"Yes. But she has known it right along, of course. "

"Deary me!" said Aunt Alvirah. "Nobody supposed them frocks would bereckernized-- least of all Helen. She meant it kindly, Ruthie. It waskindly meant, "

"I wish I'd worn my old black dress to rags!" cried Ruth, who was toohurt to be sensible or just. "I suppose Helen meant it kindly. And youdid what you thought was right, Auntie. But all the girls have turnedup their noses at me--"

"Let 'em stay turned up-- what do you care?" suddenly growled UncleJabez. 

For the moment Ruth had forgotten his presence and she and AuntAlvirah had been talking more loudly. They both fell suddenly silentand stared at him. 

"Are ye too proud to wear dresses that's give to ye?" demanded UncleJabez. "Ye ain't too proud to take food and shelter from me. And I'm apoorer man than Macy Cameron an' less able to give. "

The tone and the words were both cruel-- or seemed to be to Ruth'smind. But she said, bravely:

"People know that you're my uncle--"

"I was yer mother's uncle; that's all. The relationship ain't much, "declared Uncle Jabez. 

"Jabez, " said the little old woman, solemnly, "you've been a goodfriend to me-- ye've borne with me in sickness and in weakness. Yetook me from the a'mshouse when I didn't have a penny to my name andnobody else to turn to, it seemed. I've tried ter do for yefaithfully. But I ain't done my duty by you no more than this childhere has since she's come here to the Red Mill. You know that wellyourself, too. Don't blame the pretty leetle creetur for havin' thenateral vanity that all young things hez. Remember, Jabez, that it wasthrough you that she has had to accept clothing from outsiders. "

"Through me?" growled the miller, raising his countenance and scowlingat the brave old woman-- for it took courage for Aunt Alvirah to speakto him in this way. 

"Helen Cam'ron wouldn't have been called on to give Ruthie her frockswhich she only wore last year, and outgrew, if you hadn't lostRuthie's trunk. Ye know that, Jabez, " urged Aunt Alvirah. 

"I s'pose I'm never to hear the last of that!" stormed the miller. 

"You are still to hear the first word from Ruthie about it, Jabez, "admonished his housekeeper. 

"Well!"

"Well, " repeated Aunt Alvirah, still speaking quietly but earnestly. "You know it ain't my way to interfere in your affairs, Jabez. Butright is right. It was you lost Ruthie's trunk. I never knew ye ter bedishonest--"

"What's that?" gasped Mr. Potter, the red mantling his gray cheekdully. 

"I never knew ye ter do a dishonest thing afore, Jabez, " pursued AuntAlvirah, with her voice shaking now. "But it's dishonest for ye tonever even perpose ter make good what ye lost. If you'd lost a sack ofgrain for a neighbor ye'd made it up to him; wouldn't ye?"

"What's thet gotter do with a lot of foolish fal-lals an' rigamagigsbelonging to a gal that I've taken in--"

"To help us. And she does help us, " declared the old woman, quickly. "She more'n airns her keep, Jabez. Ye know she does. "

"Well!" grunted the miller again, but he actually looked somewhatabashed and dropped his gaze to the ledger. 

"Well, then, Jabez Potter, " said the old housekeeper, "you think itover-- think it over, Jabez. And as sure as my name's Alviry Boggs, ifyou do think it over, something will come of it!"

This seemed like a rather mysterious saying, and there seemed to benothing for the miller to observe in answer to it. Ruth had ere thisdried her eyes and it was soon bedtime. It is a long time from Fridaynight to Monday morning-- especially to young folk. The hurt that Ruthhad felt over Julia Semple's unkind words had lost its keenness inRuth's mind ere school began again. So Ruth took up her school dutiesquite as usual, wearing one of the pretty frocks in which, however, she could no longer take such pride and delight. 

There was really nothing for her to do but wear them. She realizedthat. She felt, however, that whenever any girl looked at her sheremembered that it was Helen Cameron's cast-off dress she wore; so shewas glad that the big girls were no more friendly than before and thatthey seldom looked at her. 

Besides, all the school was very busy now. In a fortnight would camegraduation. About all Ruth heard at recess and between sessions, evenamong the smaller girls, was the discussion of what they were to wearon the last day of the term. It was a great day at this school, andMiss Cramp was to graduate from her care seven pupils-- four girls andthree boys-- all of whom would go to the Cheslow High the coming year. Ruth would not be ready to graduate; but before fall, if she wasfaithful to the tasks Miss Cramp set her, that kind teacher assuredthe girl from the Red Mill that she would be able to enter the higherschool with this graduating class. 

All the older girls and many of the others were to wear white. MissCramp approved of this, for even a simple white dress would lookpretty and nice and was within the means of most of the girl pupils. Nobody asked Ruth what she would wear; and she was glad of that, forshe knew that she had no choice but to don the shabby black clothfrock she had worn at first, or one of the "charity" frocks. 

In this first week after the spelling-bee she did not see Helen orTom, and only received a brief note from Helen which she tried toanswer with her usual cheerfulness. Helen and Tom were going to thecity for a few days, therefore Ruth was not likely to see either untilthe end of the term. 

At the Red Mill matters went much the same as usual. If Uncle Jabezhad taken to heart anything that Aunt Alvirah had said, he did notshow it. He was as moody as ever and spoke no more to Ruth thanbefore. But once or twice the girl found him looking at her with apuzzled frown which she did not understand. 

On Saturday, however, at dinner, Mr. Potter said: "Alviry, if the galhas got her work done she can go to town with me this afternoon. "

Ruth shrank a little and looked appealingly at the old woman. But AuntAlvirah would not or did not, understand Ruth's pleading, and said, briskly:

"She shall be ready when you've shaved and Ben's harnessed the mules, Jabez. "

"Oh, Auntie!" whispered Ruth, when the miller had gone out, "I don'twant to go with him! I don't really!"

"Now, don't say that, child, " said Aunt Alvirah. "Don't do nothing tomake him feel that ye air afraid of him. Go 'long. Ye can call on thatleetle lame gal ye was tellin' us about while Jabez does his errands. Now hurry, deary. "

Ruth felt quite confused by this. It seemed that there must be someprivate understanding between Aunt Alvirah and the miller. She wentslowly and changed her frock. The old lady, crying up the stairwayafter her, advised her to look her smartest-- so as to please Jabez, forsooth! Indeed, she finally hobbled up stairs, with manyejaculations of "Oh, my back and oh, my bones!" for the purpose ofsatisfying herself that Ruth was as nicely dressed as she could be. 

And Uncle Jabez-- or no other man-- need have been ashamed of theappearance of Ruth Fielding when the mules came around hitched to theheavy farm-wagon which Mr. Potter usually drove. It was piled highwith bags of flour and meal, which he proposed to exchange at theCheslow stores for such supplies as he might need. The load seemedheavier than usual this day. 

It was not a bad wagon to ride in, though dusty; for there was aspring seat and over it a new hood to shield the riders from the sun. Ruth followed Uncle Jabez out of the house and climbed up over thewheel and into the seat when he nodded for her to do so. He followedher, took up the reins, and the boy, Ben, stood away from the mules'heads. 

Aunt Alvirah stood on the porch and waved her apron at Ruth every timethe girl turned around, until the wagon had crossed the bridge and wasway up the long hill on the Cheslow road. It was a delightful Juneafternoon and had Ruth been traversing this pleasant highway in almostany other way, she would have enjoyed the ride mightily. 

 CHAPTER XXI

 THE END OF THE TERM

But the companionship of the grim and glum proprietor of the Red Millwas not conducive-- in Ruth's case, at least-- to any feeling ofpleasure. Uncle Jabez seemed about to speak to her a dozen timesbefore they were out of sight of the mill; but every time Ruth turnedtoward him, half expecting to be addressed, his lips were grimly setand he was looking straight ahead over the mules' ears. 

It is doubtful if Uncle Jabez saw anything of the beauty of the day orthe variety of the landscape. Looking as he did he could not haveobserved by his eyes of flesh much but the brown ribbon of road beforethem, for miles. And it is doubtful if, spiritually, he appreciatedmuch of the beauty of the June day. The mules toiled up the long hill, straining in their collars; but they began to trot upon the other sideof the ridge and the five miles to Cheslow were covered in acomparatively short time. 

Finally, when Uncle Jabez drew up before one of the largest stores, she felt that she must break the awful silence. And stumblingly shepreferred her request:

"If you are going to be some time trading, Uncle Jabez, can't I godown to call on Mercy Curtis? I can come here again and meet you atany time you say. "

"Who's that? Sam Curtis' gal-- the cripple?" asked Uncle Jabez, shortly. 

"Yes, sir. She likes to have me come and see her. "

"Can't you find nothing more interestin' to do when ye come to townthan go to see a sick gal?" was the miller's surprising inquiry. 

"I-- I promised to call on her if I could whenever I was in town. Shereally likes to have me come, " explained Ruth. 

"Well, you can go, " grunted Uncle Jabez. "I'll stop there for ye whenI'm done tradin'. "

He had already climbed down from the high seat. Ruth came lightly downafter him and he actually turned and jumped her over the wheel so thather dress should not be soiled. Then, suddenly, he said:

"Wait. I want you to go into this store with me first. "

He turned away abruptly, so that Ruth could not see what hiscountenance expressed. He carefully tied his mules to a hitching postand then stumped into the store without again glancing in herdirection. Ruth followed him timidly. 

It was a big store with many departments, and on one side were drygoods and clothing, where the clerks were women, or young girls, whilethe groceries, provisions, hardware and agricultural tools weredisplayed upon the other side of the long room. Uncle Jabez strodestraight to the first woman he saw who was disengaged. 

"This girl wants a dress to wear to the school graduating, " he said, in his harsh voice. "It must be white. Let her pick out the goods, allthe fal-lals that go with it, and a pattern to make it by. Yeunderstand?"

"Yes, sir, " said the woman, smiling. 

"You know me?" asked Uncle Jabez. "Yes? Then send the bill to theother side of the store and I'll pay it when I sell my meal andflour. " Then to the astounded Ruth he said: "I'll come to Sam Curtis'for you when I'm done. See you don't keep me waiting. "

He wheeled and strode away before Ruth could find her voice. She wasso amazed that she actually felt faint She could not understand it. Awhite dress! And she to make her choice alone, without regard tomaterial, or price! She could have been no more stunned had UncleJabez suddenly run mad and been caught by the authorities and sent toan asylum. 

But the shop woman awoke her, having asked her twice what kind ofwhite goods she wanted to see. The repeated query brought Ruth to hersenses. She put the astonishing fact that Uncle Jabez had done this, behind her, and remembered at once the importance of the task beforeher. 

She had not listened to the talk of the other girls at school fornothing. She knew just what was the most popular fabric that seasonfor simple white dresses that could be "done up" when soiled. She hadeven found the style of a dress she liked in a fashion magazine thatone of the girls had had at school. Ruth was self-posessed at once. She went about her shopping as carefully and with as little haste asthough she had been buying for herself for years; whereas this was thevery first frock that she had ever been allowed to have the choice of. 

There were costlier goods, and some of the girls of the graduatingclass were to have them; but Ruth chose something so durable and at solow a price that she hoped Uncle Jabez would not be sorry for hisgenerosity. She saw the goods, and lace, and buttons, and all therest, made up into a neat package and sent across to the other counterwith the bill, and then went out of the store and up Market Streettoward the railroad. 

She saw Uncle Jabez nowhere, or she would have run to him to thank himfor the present. And she had been in Mercy Curtis' front window forquite an hour before the mules turned the corner into the street andthe wagon rattled up to the house and stopped. 

"And is that ugly old man your uncle?" demanded Mercy, who had beenless crusty and exacting herself on this occasion. 

"That is Uncle Jabez;" admitted Ruth, hastening to put on her hat. 

"He is an ugly one; isn't he? I'd like to know him, I would, " declaredthe odd child. "He ain't one that's always smirking and smiling, I betyou!"

"He isn't given much to smiling, I must admit, " laughed Ruth, stoopingto kiss the crippled girl. 

"There! Go along with you, " said Mercy, sharply. "You tell that ugly, dusty man-- Dusty Miller, that's what he is-- that I'm coming out tothe Red Mill, whether he wants me to or not. "

And when Ruth got out upon the street Mercy had her window open andcried through the opening, shaking her little fist the while:

"Remember! You tell Dusty Miller what I told you! I'm coming outthere. "

"What's the matter with that young one?" growled Uncle Jabez, as Ruthclimbed aboard and the mules started at a trot before she was reallyseated beside him. 

Ruth told him, smiling, that Mercy had taken a fancy to his looks, anda fancy, too, to the Red Mill from her description of it. "She wantsvery much to come out there this summer-- if she can be moved thatfar. "

Then Ruth tried to thank the miller for the frock-- which bundle shesaw carefully placed among the other packages in the body of thewagon-- but Uncle Jabez listened very grumpily to her broken words. 

"I don't know how to thank you, sir; for of all the things I wantedmost, I believe this is the very first thing, " Ruth said, stumblingly. "I really don't know how to thank you. "

"Don't try, then, " he growled, but without looking at her. "I reckonyou can thank Alviry Boggs as much as anybody. She says I owed it toyou. "

"Oh, Uncle--"

"There, there! I don't wanter hear no more about it, " declared themiller. But after they had rattled on for a while in silence, he said, pursuing the former topic: "There ain't no reason, I s'pose, why thatgal can't come out an' see you bimeby, if you want her to. "

"Oh, thank you, Uncle Jabez!" cried Ruth, feeling as though somethingvery strange indeed must have happened to the miller to make him soagreeable. And she tried to be chatty and pleasant with him for therest of the way home. But Uncle Jabez was short on conversation-- heseemed to have hoarded that up, too, and was unable to get at hisstores of small-talk. Most of his observations were mere grunts andnods, and that evening he was just as glum and silent as ever over hismoney and accounts. 

Miss 'Cretia Lock arrived early on Monday morning and when Ruth camehome from school in the afternoon the wonderful dress was cut out. They made it in two days and Aunt Alvirah washed and starched andironed it herself and it was ready for appearance on the last Fridayafternoon of the term, when the district school held its graduatingexercises. 

 CHAPTER XXII

 MERCY

Ruth felt that she was not very successful at Miss Cramp's school. Notthat she had fallen behind in her studies, or failed to please herkind instructor; but among the pupils of the upper grade she was allbut unconsidered. Perhaps, had time been given her, Ruth might havewon her way with some of the fairer-minded girls; but in the few shortweeks she had been in the district she had only managed to makeenemies among the members of her own class. 

There was probably no girl in the graduating class, from Julia Sempleand Rosa Ball, down the line, who was not glad that the girl from theRed Mill-- a charity child!-- was not numbered in the regular classand had no part in the graduating exercises. Nevertheless, Ruthproposed, if it were possible, to enter the Cheslow High School in thefall, and to that end she was determined to work at her books-- withMiss Cramp's help-- all summer. 

When it came to the last day, however, and it was known that Ruthwould not come back to that school again in the autumn, the smallergirls gathered about her and were really sorry that she was to go. Forced out of any part with her own grade of pupils, Ruth had takenthe little ones about her and played and taught them games, had toldthem stories on rainy days, and otherwise endeared herself to them. And now the little folk made much of her on this last day, bringingher flowers, and little presents, and clinging about her before theafternoon session began and their parents and friends came to listento the exercises, in a way that was very pretty to behold. 

Aunt Alvirah wanted to come to the closing exercises of the school;but to expect Uncle Jabez to leave the mill in business hours for anysuch thing as that was altogether ridiculous to contemplate. UncleJabez had, however, paid some small attention to Ruth in her newdress. Before she started for school that last day she went to themill door and showed herself to the miller. 

"Well, I don't see but you look as fine as the rest of 'em, " he said, slowly. "And the price ain't much. You used judgment in buying, NieceRuth. I'll say that much for ye. "

This being the first word of approval the miller had ever given her, the girl appreciated it to its full value. Since he had given her thedress she had wished more than ever to become friendly with him. Buthe was so moody and so given up to his accounts and the hoarding ofwealth, that it seemed next to impossible for the girl to get nearUncle Jabez. Besides, he had never recovered from the bitternessengendered by the loss of the cash-box. A heavy scowl rested upon hisbrow all the time. Sometimes he sighed and shook his head when he satidle at the table, or on the porch in the evening; and Ruth believedhe must be mourning the money which the flood was supposed to haveswept away. 

But although neither of the old folks at the Red Mill came to see thegraduating exercises, Ruth was not exactly unhappy. The littlechildren showing her that they liked her so well, could not fail to bea lasting pleasure to Ruth. And Helen and Tom, with their governess, Mrs. Murchiston, attended the exercises, and Helen sat with Ruth. 

"And we're going to take you home; the carriage will come for us, "Helen whispered in her ear. 

"No, " Ruth said, shaking her head, "I cannot go home with you. Youknow, Uncle--"

"He is an ogre, " whispered Helen, with vigor. 

That made Ruth smile a little, and she told Helen what Mercy Curtiscalled the owner of the Red Mill, and of the fancy the lame girl hadtaken for Uncle Jabez. "He is 'Dusty Miller' to Mercy, and I shouldn'tbe surprised if Uncle Jabez had her out for a day or two, if thedoctor will let her come. And you mustn't call him names, I tell you. See how good he has been to me. He gave me this new dress. "

"That must have hurt him awfully, " said Helen, sharply. "Not but thatthe dress is becoming and pretty, dear. But that's the only thing he'sever given you, I warrant-- and he lost your trunk!"

The Camerons insisted upon driving Ruth as far as the Red Mill, justthe same. Mrs. Murchiston was a very pleasant lady, and Helen and Tomevidently thought a good deal of her. 

"I should have been glad to have you for Helen's playmate this summer, my dear, " said the governess to Ruth. "And I wish you were fortunateenough to be able to go with Helen this fall. You have just thecharacteristics in your nature to balance dear Helen's impetuosity. "

"Oh, I wish indeed she was going to Briarwood Hall, " cried Helen. 

"I shall be satisfied if the way is opened for me to go to highschool, " Ruth declared, smiling. "Uncle has said nothing against it, and I shall begin next week walking in to Miss Cramp's to recite. "

Helen asked very minutely about Ruth's plans for going to Cheslow torecite, and the very first day of the next week, when the girl of theRed Mill started for town, who should overtake her within half a mileof the mill, but Helen and her governess going to Cheslow on ashopping errand, and drawn by Tubby, the pony. Of course, there wasroom for Ruth in the phaeton, and Helen and Mrs. Murchiston remainedin town as long as Ruth did and brought her back with them. Ruth hadtime to run in and see Mercy Curtis. 

"I'm coming out to the Red Mill, so now!" declared the lame girl. "Iasked Doctor Davison, and he says yes. And if he says so, that uncleof yours, Dusty Miller, will have to let me. Folks have to do asDoctor Davison says, you know. And your uncle-- isn't he just an uglydear? Does he look just that cross all the time? I bet he neverforgives his Enemy!"

This novel reason for liking Uncle Jabez would have been amusing hadthere not been a serious side to it. This odd child, with her warpedand twisted fancies, was to be pitied, and Ruth secretly pitied herwith all her heart. But she was careful now not to show Mercy that shecommiserated her condition; that way was not the way to the cripple'sheart. 

Nevertheless, being a little less afraid of Uncle Jabez than she oncewas, that very evening she mentioned Mercy's desire to him. UncleJabez never smiled, but it could be said that his face relaxed whenshe called up the memory of Sam Curtis' crippled daughter. 

"Yes; why not?" rejoined Aunt Alvirah. "Have the poor leetle creeturout here, Jabez. She'll be no bother to you. And she kin sleep withRuthie. "

"How'll she get up and down stairs?" demanded the miller, quitesurprising Ruth and Aunt Alvirah by considering this phase of thematter. "You'll have to open the East bedroom, Alviry. "

"Jest as you say, Jabez, " answered the old woman, very meekly, but herbright eyes sparkling as she glanced aside at Ruth. "She kin rollherself in her chair in and out of that room, and onto the porch. "

"I'll see Doc. Davison when he drives by to-morrer, " promised UncleJabez, with his usual bruskness. "If he says it's all right, she cancome. I'll bring her chair and her luggage out in the wagon onSaturday. The Doc. Will arrange about her being brought outcomfortably. "

All this was so amazing that Ruth could not speak. Except when he hadbeen angry, or at the time his cash-box was lost when the flood camedown the river, she had never heard Uncle Jabez make so long a speech. Aunt Alvirah was no person with whom she could discuss this greatchange in the miller; and when Doctor Davison was hailed by Mr. Potterthe next day and stopped at the mill for quite half an hour to conferwith him, Ruth was still more amazed. 

Every other day Ruth was to go to town, if it was fair. Uncle Jabezmade no comment upon her absence; nor did he put himself out in theleast to arrange for any means of transportation for his niece. Heseldom went to Cheslow himself, save on Saturdays. 

Ruth's next trip to Miss Cramp's was on a very hot day indeed. Therewas a glare of hot sun on the long hill and just enough fitful breezeto sift the road-dust all over her as she walked. But-- and howfortunate that was!-- before she had gone far the purring of amotor-car engine aroused her attention and Tom Cameron ran alongbeside her in his father's auto and stopped. 

"Ain't I lucky?" he cried. "Get in here, Ruthie, and I'll take you totown in a jiffy. "

"I'm the lucky one, I think, " said Ruth, smiling in return as sheslipped into the seat beside him. "And I almost believe, TommyCameron, that you knew I was starting for town and came along just togive me a lift. "

He grinned at her. "Don't you think you're mighty important?" heteased. "Suppose I haven't anything else to think about but yougirls?"

Just the same, Ruth stuck to this belief. But she had to confess thatshe was glad of the ride to town. It would have been very, very hot inthe sun and dust. 

"And it's real summer, now, " she said. "It will be hot in town. I'm soglad Mercy is going to get out of it. "

"What do you mean?" demanded Tom. "Is she going to be taken away?"

Ruth told him of the remarkable interest Uncle Jabez had taken in thecrippled girl. Tom could scarcely have been more surprised. 

"Why, the old curmudgeon has got a decent streak in him, after all;hasn't he?" he exclaimed, rather thoughtlessly. 

"Don't speak that way of him, Tom, " urged Ruth. "I know you've gotreason for disliking him--"

"What do you mean?" demanded Tom, turning on her sharply. 

"Oh, I-- Well, Tom, you know I believe I could easily find the man whoalmost drove the team over you the night you were hurt? And you'veknown it all the time, and kept still about it!"

"That mean, contemptible Jasper Parloe! He's told!" gasped Tom. 

"Jasper Parloe told?" repeated Ruth. "Not me. "

"Then--"

"You muttered it when they carried you to the doctor's house thatnight. You said it was my uncle, " said Ruth, quietly. "I have known itall along, and so has Parloe, I suppose. He and I were the onlypersons who heard what you said when you were but half conscious. You've kept still about it so as to shield Uncle, and I thank you. "

Tom looked abashed; but he was angry, too. "Confound that Parloe!" heexclaimed again. "He's been bleeding me, too! Threatened to go to myfather and tell about it-- and Dad would have been pretty hot withyour uncle, I expect. "

"It was just fine of you, Tommy, " Ruth said, admiringly. "But I'd letthat Parloe tell anything he liked. Uncle Jabez never meant to run youdown, I'm sure. "

"I tell you what, " said Tom. "I'll go to him myself and talk with him. Guess I can do a little bargaining on my own hook. If I don't make himany trouble about my accident, he ought to let you and Helen be spoonsagain. She's just about worrying herself sick over you. "

"It will come right, Tom, in the end, " returned Ruth, quietly, andrepeating Aunt Alvirah's favorite word of cheer. "Uncle is changed, Ibelieve. Think of his taking so much interest in Mercy!"

"I'll see Doctor Davison, " said Tom, eagerly; "and perhaps I'll bringthe sick girl out on Saturday. She ought to be very comfortable inthis machine. Helen would be glad to do something for her, too. "

"But you don't want to make any show of doing anything for Mercy, "returned Ruth, shaking her head as she got out before the stationmaster's cottage. "There she is at the window. She'll be curious aboutyou, I've no doubt. "

She only ran in for a few moments to see Mercy before going on to MissCramp's. 

"That's that Cameron boy, " said the crippled girl, in her sharp way. "I see him and that sister of his whizzing through this street beforein their car. Wish it'd blow up some day when they're showing off. "

Ruth had got so now that she never showed surprise at Mercy's harshspeeches. She refused to admit that she took the lame girl seriouslyin her ugly moods. 

"Now, you'd better not wish that, Mercy, " she laughed. "Tom wants totake you out to the Red Mill on Saturday in that same automobile. Uncle Jabez is going to take the wheel chair and your baggage. You'lllike riding in the car well enough. "

For a moment the cripple was silent and her eyes fell before Ruth'sgaze. Suddenly the guest saw that Mercy's shoulders shook and thattears were actually dropping from Mercy's eyes. 

"My dear!" she cried. 

"Go away!" murmured the crippled girl. "I want to be alone. I ain'tnever believed, " she went on, with more vigor than grammar, "that I'dever get out to your house. Is-- is it really so that I can?"

"Uncle Jabez is determined you shall come. So is Doctor Davison. So amI. Everybody is helping. Why, Mercy, you'd have to come to the RedMill on a visit now, even if you didn't want to!" cried Ruth, laughinghappily. 

 CHAPTER XXIII

 IN OLAKAH GLEN

And Mercy Curtis really came to the Red Mill. Perhaps it was becauseof Doctor Davison, for it was notorious that when the good physicianset out to do a thing, or to have it done, it was accomplished. 

Yet in this case it seemed as though the miller himself had as much todo with the successful outcome of the plan as anybody. He had littleto say about it-- or little to say at first to the crippled girl. Buthe saw that Aunt Alvirah and Ruth had the east bedroom ready forMercy's occupancy before he started to town with his usual load offlour and meal on Saturday afternoon; and he was at home in goodseason for supper with the empty grain sacks, the fruits of hisSaturday's trading, and Mercy's wheel chair in the wagon. But beforehe returned to the Red Mill the Camerons' big car, with Helen and Tomand the chauffeur, flashed past the Red Mill on its way to town and ina remarkably short time reappeared with Mercy sitting beside Helen inthe tonneau. Doctor Davison arrived at about the same time, too, andsuperintended the removal of the cripple into the house. 

Mercy was as excited as she could be. There was actually color in herface. She was so excited that she forgot to be snappy, and thankedthem all for their kindness to her. 

"Into bed you go at once, Mercy, " commanded Doctor Davison; "and inthe morning you may get up as early as you please-- or as early asRuth gets up. " For Ruth was to sleep on the couch in the sick girl'sroom during her visit to the Red Mill. 

The doctor drove the Camerons away then, and adjured Mercy to bequiet, leaving her to the tender nursing of Ruth and Aunt Alvirah. Mercy was in a mood to be friendly with everybody-- for once. She wasdelighted with Aunt Alvirah. When Uncle Jabez arrived with thewheelchair she actually made him do errands for her and talked to himwith a freedom that astonished both Ruth and Mrs. Alvirah Boggs. 

"There! I knew you'd do it, Dusty Miller, " Mercy said to the old man, tartly. "You men are all alike-- just as forgetful as you can be. It'sall very well to bring this old wheelchair; but where are my twosticks? Didn't they give you my canes, Dusty Miller? I assure you Ihave to move around a bit now and then without using this horselesscarriage. I've got to have something to hobble on. I'm GoodyTwo-sticks, I am. You know very well that one of my legs isn't worthanything at all. "

"Ha!" croaked Jabez Potter, eyeing her with his usual frown, "I didn'tbring any canes; because why? There weren't any given me. They're notin the wagon. "

"My! do you always frown just like that?" demanded Mercy Curtis, in amanner which would have been impertinent in any other person, but washer natural way of speaking. "You don't waste your time in smiling andsmirking; do you?"

"I never saw any use in it-- unless ye had something perticular tosmile for, " admitted Mr. Potter. 

"Then it won't spoil your smile if I tell you that you'll have to findme canes somewhere if I'm to help myself at all, " she said. 

He gravely brought two rough staffs, measured them off at just theright height for her, and spent the bulk of the evening in smoothingthe rough sticks and tacking on bits of leather at the small ends ofthe canes in lieu of ferrules. 

The east bedroom was at the end of the passage leading from thekitchen. It was right next to Uncle Jabez's own room. They all sat inthe east room that evening, for its windows opened upon the wide, honeysuckle-shaded porch, and the breeze was cool. It was thebeginning of many such evenings, for although Uncle Jabez sometimesretired to his bedroom where a lamp burned, and made up his cash-bookand counted his money (or so Ruth supposed) not an evening went bythat the miller was not, for a time at least, in the cripple's room. 

He did not talk much. Indeed, if he talked to anyone more than toanother it was to Ruth; but he seemed to take a quizzical interest inwatching Mercy's wry faces when she was in one of her ugly moods, andin listening to her sharp speeches. 

The outdoor air and sun, and the plentiful supply of fresh milk andvegetables and farm cooking, began to make another girl of Mercybefore a week went over her head. She had actually some natural color, her hands became less like bird-claws, and her hollow cheeks began tofill out. 

On Sunday Mr. And Mrs. Curtis drove out to see her. The Red Mill hadnot been so lively a place since Ruth came to it, she knew, and, shecould imagine; for many a long year before. Doctor Davison was thereevery day. Other neighbors were continually running in to see Mercy, or to bring something for the invalid. At first, in her old, snappy, snarly way, Mercy would say:

"Old cat! just wanted to see how humpy and mean I look. Thought I wasas ugly as a bullfrog, I s'pose. I know what they're after!"

But as she really began to feel better, and slept long and sweetly atnight, and altogether to gain in health, she dropped such sharpspeeches and had a smile when visitors came and when they left. Everybody who drove by and saw her sitting on the porch, or wheelingherself, or being wheeled by Ruth, about the paths, had something tosay to her, or waved a hand at her, and Mercy Curtis began to bepleasant mannered. 

She hobbled around her room more on the "two-sticks" Uncle Jabez hadmade for her; but she never liked to have even Ruth see her at theseexercises. She certainly did get about in a very queer manner-- "justlike a crab with the St. Vitus dance, " so she herself said. 

The doctor watched her closely. He was more attentive than he had beenwhen she was much worse off in health; and finally, after Mercy hadbeen at the Red Mill for nearly a month, he brought a strangephysician to see her. This gentleman was a great surgeon from NewYork, who asked Mercy a few questions, but who watched her with sointent a look that the little crippled girl was half frightened athim. He inspired confidence, however, and when he said to her, ondeparting: "You are going to see me again before long, " Mercy wasquite excited about it. She never asked a question of Doctor Davison, or of anybody else, about the strange surgeon, or his opinion of hercase; but Ruth often heard her humming an odd little song (she oftenmade up little tunes and put words to them herself) of which Ruth didnot catch the burden for some days. When Mercy was singing it shemumbled the words, or dropped her voice to a whisper whenever anybodycame near. But one morning Ruth was bringing the beaten egg and milkthat she drank as a "pick-me-up" between breakfast and dinner, andMercy did not hear her coming, and the odd little song came clearly tothe ears of the girl of the Red Mill:

"He's going to cure me! Oh, my back and oh, my bones!

He's going to cure me! Oh, my back and oh, my bones!"

Ruth knew instantly to what the little doggerel song referred. It istrue Mercy had filched Aunt Alvirah's phrase and made it her own-- andit applied to the poor child as well as to the rheumatic old woman. But it was a song of joy-- a song of expectation. 

Ruth tried to be even more kind to Mercy after that. She was with heralmost all the time. But there were occasions when Helen and TomCameron really made her come out with them on some little jaunt. SinceMercy's arrival at the Red Mill the Camerons had fallen into the habitof calling occasionally, and Uncle Jabez had said nothing about it. Ostensibly they called on Mercy; but it was Ruth that they came forwith the pony carriage one day and took away for a visit to OlakahGlen. 

This beautiful spot was not so very far away, but it called for apicnic lunch, and Tubby was quite two hours in getting them there. Itwas a wild hollow, with great beech trees, and a noisy stream chaffingin a rocky bed down the middle of the glen. There were some farmsthereabout; but many of the farmers were no more than squatters, for avast tract of field and forest, including the glen, belonged to anestate which had long been in the courts for settlement. 

Just before leaving all signs of civilization behind, Tom had pointedout a shanty and several outbuildings on a high hillock overlookingthe road, and told the girls that that was where Jasper Parloe lived, all alone. 

"I came up here fishing with some of the other fellows once, andJasper tried to drive us out of the glen. Said he owned it. Likelystory! He won't trouble us to-day. "

Indeed, wild as the spot was, there was little likelihood of anybodytroubling the young people, for they had Reno along. This faithfulcreature watched over the trio most jealously and, as they were eatingon the grass, he found some sudden reason to become excited. He roseup, stiffening his back, the hair rising on his neck, and a low growlissuing from his throat. The girls were a little startled, but Tomsprang up, motioned to Helen and Ruth to keep still, and ran to theangry mastiff. 

"What's the matter with you, Reno?" demanded Tom, softly, but puttinga restraining hand upon his collar. 

Reno lurched forward, and Tom gripped the collar tightly as he wasdragged directly toward a thick dump of shrubbery not many yards away. 

 CHAPTER XXIV

 THE INITIALS

There was no sound that Tom Cameron or the girls could hear from theshrubbery; but Reno evidently knew that somebody was lurking there. And by the dog's actions Tom thought it must be somebody whom Renodisliked. 

"Oh, don't leave us, Tom!" begged Helen, running behind her brotherand the mastiff. 

"Come on-- both of you!" muttered Tom. "We'll see what this means. Stick close to me. "

He had picked up a stout club; but it was in the huge and intelligentmastiff that they all put their confidence. The dog, although hesnuffed now and then as though the scent that had first disturbed himstill came down the wind, had ceased to growl. 

They came to a path in the thicket and followed it for a few yardsonly, when Reno stopped and stiffened again. 

"Hush!" whispered Tom, and parted the bushes with one hand, his otherstill clinging to the mastic's collar. 

There was a tiny opening in the shrubbery. It surrounded the foot of ahuge beech tree. In some past day a careless hunter had built a fireclose to the trunk of this tree. It was now hollow at the base, butvines and creepers growing up the tall tree had hidden the opening. 

A man was on his knees at the foot of the tree and had drawn thematted curtain of creepers aside with one hand while with the other hereached in to the full length of his arm. He had no suspicion of thepresence of the young people and Reno. 

Out of the hollow in the tree trunk he drew something wrapped in anold pair of overalls. He unwrapped it, still with his back to the spotwhere the dog and his master and the girls stood. But the threefriends could see over his shoulder as he knelt on the ground, and sawplainly that the object he had withdrawn from the tree trunk was aflat black box, evidently japanned, and there was a fair-sized brasspadlock which fastened it, "Ha, ha, ha!" chuckled the man to himself, as he wrapped the box upagain in the old clothes, and then thrust it hastily into the hollowtree. "Safe yet! safe yet!"

He rose up then and without even looking about him, started directlyaway from the glen. He plainly had no suspicion of the presence of thedog and the trio of young folks. When he was quite out of sight andsound, Tom whispered, patting Reno:

"I declare, girls! That was Jasper Parloe!"

"That mean thing!" returned his sister. "I guess he's a miser as wellas a hermit; isn't he?"

"Looks like it. I've a good mind to take that thing he put in thereand hide it somewhere else. He wouldn't be so sure about it's beingsafe then; would he?"

"No! Don't you touch his nasty things, Tom, " advised Helen, turningaway. 

But Ruth still stared at the hidden hollow in the tree and suddenlyshe darted forward and knelt where Parloe had knelt. 

"What are you going to do, Ruth?" demanded her chum. 

"I want to see that box-- I must see it!" cried the girl from the RedMill. 

"Hold on!" said Tom. "I'll get it for you. You'll get your dressdirty. "

"I wouldn't touch it, " cried Helen, warningly. 

"I must!" gasped Ruth, greatly excited. 

"It don't belong to you, " quoth Helen. 

"And I'm very sure it doesn't belong to Jasper Parloe, " declared Ruth, earnestly. 

Tom glanced at the girl from the Red Mill suddenly, and with closeattention. He seemed to understand her excitement. 

"Let me in there, " said the youth. "I can reach it, Ruthie. "

He pushed her gently, and while Ruth and Helen held aside the mass ofvines the boy crawled in and reached the bundle of rags. He carefullyhauled it all forth and the japanned box tumbled out of its loosewrappings. 

"There it is!" grunted Tom, getting up and wiping his hands on a tuftof grass. "What do you make of it?"

Ruth had the box in her hands. Helen, looking over her shoulder, pointed to two faded letters painted on the cover of the box. 

"That belongs to Jasper Parloe. His initials are on the box, " shesaid. 

"'J. P. '-- that's right, I guess, " muttered Tom. 

It could not be gainsaid that Parloe's initials were there. Ruthstared at them for some moments in silence. 

Better put it back. I don't know what he can possibly have to hide inthis way, " Tom said. "But we wouldn't want to get into trouble withhim. He's a mean customer. "

"It isn't his box!" said Ruth, quietly. 

"Why isn't it?" cried Helen, in amazement. 

"I never noticed the letters on the box before. The box has beencleaned since I saw it--"

"You don't mean that it is your uncle's cash-box, Ruth?" interruptedTom, in excitement. 

"Why, you ridiculous boy!" declared Helen. "You know that was lost inthe flood. "

"I don't know. Do you?" Tom demanded, shortly. 

"But, Ruth!" gasped Helen. 

"It looks like Uncle Jabez's box, " Ruth whispered. 

"But the letters! Jasper Parloe's initials, " cried thehard-to-be-convinced Helen Cameron. 

"They're uncle's initials, too, " explained Ruth, quietly. 

"Whew!" ejaculated Tom. "So they are. 'J. P. -- Jabez Potter. ' Can'tget around that. "

"Well, I never!" gasped Helen. 

"Do you suppose all old Jabe's money is in this?" muttered Tom, weighing the cash-box in his hands. "It can't be in coin. "

"I do not know that he had much money in coin, " said Ruth. "I think heused to change the gold and silver for notes, quite frequently. Atleast, Aunt Alvirah says so. "

"But suppose it should be Parloe's after all?" objected Helen. 

"Let's find that out, " said Tom, vigorously. "Come on, girls. We'llfinish eating, pack up, and start back. We'll drive right up toParloe's and show him this box, and ask him if it is his. If he saysyes, we'll make him come along to the mill and face Mr. Potter, andthen if there is any doubt of it, let them go before a magistrate andfight it out!"

The girls were impressed with the wisdom of this declaration, and allwent back to rescue the remains of their luncheon from the birds andfrom a saucy gray squirrel that had already dropped down to the lowestlimb of the tree under which they had spread their cloth, and who satthere and chattered angrily while they remained thereafter, as thoughhe considered that he had been personally cheated out of a banquet. 

The girls and Tom were so excited that they could not enjoy theremainder of the nice things that Babette had packed in their lunchbasket They were soon in the carriage, and Tubby was startled out of apleasant dream and urged up the hilly road that led through the woodsto the squatter's cabin, where Jasper Parloe had taken up his quartersafter he had been discharged from employment at the Red Mill. 

 CHAPTER XXV

 ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS

When the pony carriage drove into the little clearing about thesquatter's hut, Parloe was pottering about the yard and he stood upand looked at them with arms akimbo and a growing grin upon his slyface. 

"Well, well, well!" he croaked. "All together, air ye? Havin' apicnic?"

"We've been down yonder in the glen, " said Tom, sternly. 

For an instant Jasper Parloe changed color and looked a bit worried. But it was only for an instant. Then he grinned again and his littleeyes twinkled just as though he were amused. But Tom kept on, bluntly, saying:

"We found something there, Parloe, and we came up here to see if itbelongs to you. "

"What's that?" asked the man, drawing nearer. "I ain't lost nothing. "

"Don't say that, " said Tom, quickly. "At least, don't say you haven'thidden something. "

But he could not catch Mr. Parloe again. The man shook his head slowlyand looked as though he hadn't the least idea of what Tom was drivingat. 

"Look here, " continued the boy, and drew forth the japanned box. 

"Well! Well!" and Jasper's mean little eyes twinkled more than ever. "You don't mean to say you found that down yonder?"

"We did, " said Tom, tartly. 

"Now, where was it?"

"Where it had been hidden, " snapped Tom, quite disgusted with the oldman. "Where it was supposed to be very safe, I reckon. "

"Like enough, Tom, " said Jasper, mildly. "What do you reckon on doingwith it?"

"You don't claim it to be yours, then?" demanded Tom, in somesurprise. 

"No-o, " said Parloe, slowly. 

"It has your initials on it, " said Helen, quickly. 

"That's odd, ain't it?" returned Parloe, standing where he was and notoffering to touch the box. "But other people have the same initialsthat I have. " His grin grew to huge proportions, and he looked so slythat nothing but his high, bony nose kept his two little eyes fromrunning together and making one eye of it. "Jabe Potter, forinstance. "

"Then you think this is likely to be Mr. Potter's?" queried Tom. 

"Couldn't say. Jabe will probably claim it. He would take advantage ofthe initials, sure enough. "

"And why don't you?" asked Helen. 

"'Cause me and Jabe are two different men, " declared Parloe, righteously. "Nobody ever could say, with proof, that Jasper Parloetook what warn't his own. "

"This is my uncle's cash-box, I am very sure, " interposed Ruth, withsome anger. "It was not swept away the day of the flood. You werethere in his little office at the very moment the waters struck themill, and we saw you running from the place as though you werescared. "

"Jefers-pelters!" croaked Jasper. "It was enough to scare anybody!"

"That may be. But you weren't too scared to grab this box when youran. And you must have hidden it under your coat as you left the mill. I am going to tell my uncle all about it-- and how we saw you down thehill yonder, looking at this very box before you thrust it back in itshiding place. "

Jasper Parloe grew enraged rather than frightened by this threat. 

"Tell!" he barked. "You tell what ye please. Provin's another thing. Idon't know nothin' about the box. I never opened it. I don't knowwhat's in it. And you kin tell Jabe that if he tries to make metrouble over it I'll make him trouble in a certain locality-- he knowswhere and what about. "

"I shall give him the box and tell him how it came into mypossession, " repeated Ruth, firmly, and then she and her friends droveaway. 

They hurried Tubby back to the Red Mill and Ruth ran in ahead of herfriends with the cash-box in her hands. The moment Uncle Jabez saw ithe started forward with a loud cry. He almost tore the box from hergrasp; but then became gentle again in a moment. 

"Gal!" he ejaculated, softly, "how'd ye git this away from Parloe?"

"Oh, Uncle! how did you know he had it?"

"I've been suspicious. He couldn't scarce keep it to hisself. He ain'topened it, I see. "

"I don't think he has. "

"We'll see. Tell me about it, " urged the miller, staring at Helen andTom as they approached. 

Ruth told him all about it. She pointed, too, to the fact that Helenand Tom-- and especially Tom's dog-- had had more to do with therecovery of the cash-box than she had. Uncle Jabez listened and noddedas though he appreciated that fact. Meanwhile, however, he hunted upthe key to the japanned box and unlocked it. 

It was plain that the contents of the box were for the most partsecurities in the shape of stocks and bonds, with a good deal ofcurrency in small notes. There was a little coin-- gold and silver--packed into one compartment. Uncle Jabez counted it all with feverishanxiety. 

"Right to a penny!" he gasped, when he had finished, and mopped theperspiration from his brow. "The rascal didn't touch it. He didn'tdare!"

"But he'll dare something else, Uncle, " said Ruth, hastily. "I believehe's going right to Mr. Cameron to make you trouble. "

"Ah-ha!" exclaimed Uncle Jabez, and looked hard at Tom. 

"I'm sorry if he makes trouble about that old thing, Mr. Potter, " saidTom, stumblingly. "I've tried to keep his mouth shut--"

"Ah-ha!" said Uncle Jabez, again. Then he added: "And I shouldn't beat all surprised, young man, if you'd given Jasper money to keep hismouth shut-- eh?"

Tom flushed and nodded "I didn't want any row-- especially when Helenand I think so much of Ruth. "

"You wouldn't have bought Jasper off for my sake, I reckon, " saidJabez, sharply. "You wouldn't have done it for my sake?"

"Why should I?" returned Tom, coolly. "You never have been any toofriendly towards me. "

"Hah!" said the miller, nodding. "That's true. But let me tell you, young man, that I saw your father about the time I ran you down. Wedon't get along very well, I admit. I ain't got much use for youCamerons. But I had no intention of doing you harm. You can believethat, or not. If you will remember, the evening you went over thatembankment on the Wilkins Corners road, I came up behind you. My muleswere young, and your dog jumped out at them and scared them. Theybolted, and I never knew till next day that you had been knocked overthe embankment. "

"We'll let bygones be bygones, Mr. Potter, " said Tom, good-humoredly. "I came out of it all right. "

"But you had no business to pay Jasper Parloe money for keeping stillabout it, " said the miller, sourly. "Being bled by a blackmailer isnever the action of a wise man. When he threatened me I went to yourfather at once and got ahead of Parloe. We agreed to say nothing aboutit-- that's about all we did agree on, however, " added Mr. Potter, grimly. "Now you children run along. Ruth, come here. I figger I oweyou something because of the finding of this box. Yes! I know how muchthe others had to do with it, too. But they'd never been over there inOlakah Glen if it hadn't been for you. I'll make this up to you. Inever yet owed a debt that I didn't repay in full. I'll remember thisone, gal. "

But so much happened in those next two weeks, following the finding ofthe cash-box, that Ruth quite forgot this promise on her uncle's part. She realized, however, that he seemed really desirous of being kind toher, and that much of his grimness had disappeared. 

Everybody at the Red Mill-- and many other people, too-- had theirthoughts fixed upon Mercy Curtis at this time. She had been gettingstronger all the while. She had been able to hobble on her two sticksfrom her bedroom to the porch. She had been to ride half a dozen timesin the Camerons' automobile. And then, suddenly, without otherwarning, Doctor Davison and the strange surgeon who had once examinedMercy, appeared in a big limousine car, with a couch arranged inside, and they whisked Mercy off to a sanitarium some miles away, where shewas operated on by the famous surgeon, with Doctor Davison's help, andfrom which place the report came back in a few days that the operationhad been successful and that Mercy Curtis would-- in time-- walkagain!

Meanwhile, Ruth had kept up her recitations to Miss Cramp, oftenwalking back and forth to town, but sometimes getting "a lift, " andthe teacher pronounced her prepared to enter the Cheslow High School. She had taken the studies that Helen Cameron had taken, and, oncomparing notes, the chums found that they were in much the samecondition of advancement. 

"Oh, if you were only going to Briarwood with me, instead of toCheslow High!" wailed Helen, one day, as they sat on the porch of theRed Mill house. 

"Ah, dear!" said Ruth, quietly, "don't talk about it. I want to gowith you more than I ever wanted to do anything in my whole life--"

"What's that?" exclaimed Uncle Jabez's gruff voice behind them. "What's that you want to do, Ruth?"

"To-- to go to boarding school, Uncle, " stammered his niece. 

"Hah!" grunted the miller. "Ain't you calculatin' on going to highschool?"

"Oh, Mr. Potter!" broke in Helen, frightened by her own temerity. "That isn't the school Ruth wants to go to. I am going to BriarwoodHall, and she wants to go, too. Do, do let her. It would be-- it wouldbe just heavenly, if she could go there, and we could be together!"

Jabez Potter came out upon the porch and looked down upon his niece. The grim lines of his face could not relax, it seemed; but his eyesdid seem to twinkle as he said:

"And that's the greatest wish of your life; is it, Ruth?"

"I-- I believe it is, Uncle Jabez, " she whispered, looking at him inwonder. 

"Well, well!" he said, gruffly, dropping his gaze. "Mebbe I owe it ye. My savin's of years was in that cash-box, Ruth. I-- I-- Well, I'llthink it over and see if it can be arranged about this Briarwoodbusiness. I'll-- I'll see your Aunt Alvirah. "

And that Uncle Jabez Potter "saw about it" to some purpose is provenby the fact that the reader may meet Ruth and her friends again in thenext volume of this series to be entitled "Ruth Fielding at BriarwoodHall; Or, Solving the Campus Mystery. "

"Perhaps he isn't such an ogre after all, " whispered Helen, when sheand Ruth were alone. 

"Not after you get to know him, " replied the girl of the Red Mill, with a quiet smile. 

 THE END