CHAPTER IV--A WEEK AT HOME
Mr. Cameron met the chums _en route_, and the next morning they arrivedat Seven Oaks in time to see Tom receive his diploma from the militaryand preparatory school. Tom, black-eyed and as handsome in his way asHelen was in hers, seemed to have interest only in Ruth.
"Goodness me! that boy's got a regular crush on you, Ruthie!" exclaimedHelen, exasperated. "Did you ever see the like?"
"Dear Tom!" sighed Ruth Fielding. "He was the very first friend--of myown age, I mean--that I found in Cheslow when I went there. I _have_ tobe good to Tommy, you know."
"But he's only a boy!" cried the twin sister, feeling herself to beyears older than her brother after spending so many months at college.
"He was born the same day you were," laughed Ruth.
"That makes no difference. Boys are never as wise or as old as girls----"
"Until the girls slip along too far. Then they sometimes want to appearyoung instead of old," said the girl of the Red Mill practically. "Isuppose, in the case of girls who have not struck out for themselves andgone to college or into business or taken up seriously one of the arts,it is so the boys will continue to pay them attentions. Thank goodness,Helen! you and I will be able to paddle our own canoes without dependingupon any 'mere male,' as Miss Cullam calls them, for our bread andbutter."
_"You_ certainly can paddle your own boat," Helen returned admiringly,leaving the subject of the "mere male." "Father says you have become asmart business woman already. He approves of this venture you are goingto make in the movies."
But Uncle Jabez did not approve. Ruth had written to Aunt Alvirahregarding the manner in which she expected to spend the summer, andthere was a storm brewing when she reached the Red Mill.
Set upon the bank of the Lumano River, the old red mill with thesprawling, comfortable story-and-a-half farmhouse attached, made a verypretty picture indeed--so pretty that already one of Ruth's bestscenarios had been filmed at the mill and people all over the countrywere able to see just how beautiful the locality was.
When Ruth got out of the automobile that had brought them all from theCheslow station and ran up the shaded walk to the porch, a little,hoop-backed old woman came almost running to the door to greet her--adear old creature with a face like a withered russet apple and verybright, twinkling eyes.
"Oh, my pretty! Oh, my pretty!" Aunt Alvirah cried. "I feared you never_would_ come."
"Why, Auntie!" Ruth murmured, taking Aunt Alvirah in her arms andleading her back to the low rocking chair by the window where sheusually sat.
There was a rosy-cheeked country girl hovering over the supper table,who smiled bashfully at the college girl. Uncle Jabez, as he hadpromised, had hired somebody to relieve the little old woman of theheaviest of her housekeeping burdens.
"Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!" groaned Aunt Alvirah as she settledback into her chair. "Dear child! how glad we shall be to have you athome, if only for so short a while."
"What does Uncle Jabez say?" whispered Ruth.
"He don't approve, Ruthie. You know, he never has approved of your doingthings that other gals don't do."
"But, Aunt Alvirah, other girls _do_ do them. Can't he understand thatthe present generation of girls is different from his mother'sgeneration?"
Aunt Alvirah wagged her head seriously. "I'm afraid not, my pretty.Jabez Potter ain't one to l'arn new things easy. You know that."
Ruth nodded thoughtfully. She expected a scene with the old miller andshe was not disappointed. It came after supper--after Uncle Jabez hadretired to the sitting-room to count his day's receipts as usual; andlikewise to count the hoard of money he always kept in his cash-box.
Uncle Jabez Potter was of a miserly disposition. Aunt Alvirah oftenproclaimed that the coming of his grand-niece to the Red Mill had barelysaved the old man from becoming utterly bound up in his riches.Sometimes Ruth could scarcely see how he could have become more miserlythan he already was.
"No, Niece Ruth, I don't approve. You knowed I couldn't approve of nosech doin's as this you're attemptin'. It's bad enough for a gal towaste her money in l'arnin' more out o' books than what a man knows. Butto go right ahead and do as she plumb pleases with five thousanddollars--or what ye've got left of it after goin' off to college and sechnonsense. No----"
The miller's feelings on the subject were too deep for furtherutterance. Ruth said, firmly:
"You know, Uncle Jabez, the money was given to me to do what I pleasedwith."
"Another foolish thing," snarled Uncle Jabez. "That Miz Parsons had nobusiness to give ye five thousand dollars for gettin' back her necklacefrom the Gypsies--a gal like you!"
"But she had offered the reward to anybody who would find it," Ruthexplained patiently.
Uncle Jabez ploughed right through this statement and shook his headlike an angry bull. "And then the court had no business givin' it overto Mister Cameron to take care on't for ye. _I_ was the proper person tobe made your guardeen."
Ruth had no reply to make to this. She knew well enough that she wouldnever have touched any of the money until she was of age had Uncle Jabezonce got his hands upon it.
"The money's airnin' ye good int'rest in the Cheslow bank. That's whereit oughter stay. Wastin' it makin' them foolish movin' pictuers----"
"But, Uncle!" she told him desperately; "you know that my scenarios areearning money. See how much money my 'Heart of a Schoolgirl' has madefor the building of the new dormitory at Briarwood. And this lastpicture that Mr. Hammond took here at the mill is bound to sell big."
"Huh!" grunted the miller, not much impressed. "Mebbe it's all right foryou to spend your spare time writin' them things; but it ain't no re'lbusiness. Can't tell me!"
"But it _is_ a business--a great, money-making business," sighed Ruth."And I am determined to have my part in it. It is my chance, UncleJabez--my chance to begin something lasting----"
"Nonsense! Nonsense!" he declared angrily. "Ye'll lose your money--that'swhat ye'll do. But lemme tell you, young lady, if you do lose it, don'tye come back here to the Red Mill expectin' me ter support ye inidleness. For I won't do it--I won't do it!" and he stamped away to bed.
The few days she spent at home were busy ones for Ruth Fielding.Naturally, she and Helen had to do some shopping.
"For even if we are bound for the wilds of Arizona, there will be men tosee us," said the black-eyed girl frankly. "And it is the duty of allfemales to preen their feathers for the males."
"Just so," growled her twin. "I expect I shall have to stand with a gunin both hands to keep those wild cowpunchers and miners away from youtwo when we reach Yucca. I remember how it was at Silver Ranch--and youwere only kids then."
"'Kids,' forsooth!" cried his sister. "When will you ever learn to haverespect for us, Tommy? Remember we are college girls."
"Oh! you aren't likely to let anybody forget that fact," grumbled Tom,who felt a bit chagrined to think that his sister and her chum hadarrived at college a year ahead of him. He would enter Harvard in thefall.
During this busy week, Ruth spent as much time as possible with AuntAlvirah, for the little old woman showed that she longed for "herpretty's" company. Uncle Jabez went about with a thundercloud upon hisface and disapproval in his every act and word.
Before Saturday a telegram came from Ann Hicks. She had arrived atSilver Ranch, conferred with Uncle Bill, and it was agreed that sheshould meet Ruth and the other girls at Yucca on the date Ruth had namedin her letter. The addition of Ann to the party from the East would makeit nine strong, including Miss Cullam as chaperon and Tom Cameron as"courier."
Tom was to make all the traveling arrangements, and he went on to NewYork a day before Ruth and Helen started from Cheslow. There he had asmall experience which afterward proved to be important. At the time itpuzzled him a good deal.
It had been agreed that the party bound for Arizona should meet at theDelorphion Hotel. Therefore, Tom took a taxicab at the Grand CentralTerminal for that hostelry. Mr. Cameron had engaged
rooms for the wholeparty by telephone, for he was well known at the Delorphion, and all Tomhad to do was to hand the clerk at the desk his card and sign his namewith a flourish on the register.
The instant he turned away from the desk to follow the bellhop Tom noteda young man, after a penetrating glance at him, slide along to theregister, twirl it around again, and examine the line he, Tom, hadwritten there. The young fellow was a stranger to Tom. He was dressedlike a chauffeur. Tom was sure he had never seen the young man before.
"Now, wouldn't that bother you?" he muttered, eyeing the fellow sharplyas he crossed the marble-floored rotunda to the elevators. "Does hethink he knows me? Or is he looking for somebody and is putting everynew arrival through the third degree?"
He half expected the chauffeur person to follow him to the elevator, andhe lingered behind the impatient bellhop for half a minute to give thestranger a chance to accost him if he wished to.
But immediately after the fellow had read Tom's name on the book, heturned away and went out, without vouchsafing him another glance.
"Funny," thought Tom Cameron. "Wonder what it means."
However, as nothing more came of it--at least, not at once--he buried themystery under the manifold duties of the day. He met a couple of schoolfriends at noon and went to lunch with them; but he returned to thehotel for dinner.
It was then he spied the same chauffeur again. He was helping a younglady out of a private car before the hotel entrance and a porter wasgoing in ahead with two big traveling bags.
Tom was sure it was the same man who had examined the hotel registerafter he had signed his name; and he was tempted to stop and speak tohim. But the young lady whisked into the hotel without his seeing herface, while the chauffeur, after a curious, straight stare at Tom,jumped into the car and started away. Tom noticed that there was amonogram upon the motor-car door, but he did not notice the licensenumber.
"Maybe the girl is one of those going with us," Tom thought, as he wentinside.
The porter with the bags and the young lady in question has disappeared.He went to the desk and asked the clerk if any of his party had arrivedand was informed to the contrary.
"Well, it gets me," ruminated Tom, as he went up to dress for dinner. "Idon't know whether I am the subject of a strange young lady'sattentions, or merely if the chauffeur was curious about me. Guess Iwon't say anything to the girls about it. Helen would surely give me thelaugh."
Ruth Fielding In the Saddle; Or, College Girls in the Land of Gold Page 5