'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