Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill; Or, Jasper Parloe's Secret
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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 welco
me, 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