CHAPTER II
MAGGIE
Ruth Fielding knew very well the treacherous current of the Lumano. Shesaw that the drifting boat with its single occupant was very near to thepoint where the fierce pull of the mid-stream current would seize it.
So she rowed her best and having the stroke oar, Uncle Jabez was obligedto pull _his_ best to keep up with her.
"Huh!" he snorted, "it ain't so pertic'lar, is it, Niece Ruth? Thatfeller----"
She made no reply, but in a few minutes they were near enough to thedrifting boat for Ruth to glance over her shoulder and see into it. Atonce she uttered a little cry of pity.
"What now?" gruffly demanded Uncle Jabez.
"Oh, Uncle! It's a girl!" Ruth gasped.
"A gal! _Another gal?_" exclaimed the old miller. "I swanny! The RedMill is allus littered up with gals when you're to hum."
This was a favorite complaint of his; but he pulled more vigorously,nevertheless, and the punt was quickly beside the drifting boat.
A girl in very commonplace garments--although she was not at all acommonplace looking girl--lay in the bottom of the boat. Her eyes wereclosed and she was very pale.
"She's fainted," Ruth whispered.
"Who in 'tarnation let a gal like that go out in a boat alone, andwithout airy oar?" demanded Uncle Jabez, crossly. "Here! hold steady.I'll take that painter and 'tach it to the boat. We'll tow her in. Butlemme tell ye," added Uncle Jabez, decidedly, "somebody's got ter pay mefur my time, or else they don't git the boat back. She seems to be allright."
"Why, she isn't conscious!" cried Ruth.
"Huh!" grunted Uncle Jabez, "I mean the boat, not the gal."
Ruth always suspected that Uncle Jabez Potter made a pretense of beingreally worse than he was. When a little girl she had been almost afraidof her cross-grained relative--the only relative she had in the world.
But there were times when the ugly crust of the old man's character wasrubbed off and his niece believed she saw the true gold beneath. She wasfrequently afraid that others would hear and not understand him. Nowthat she was financially independent of Uncle Jabez Ruth was not sosensitive for herself.
They towed the boat back to the mill landing. Tom and Ben carried thestrange girl, still unconscious into the Red Mill farmhouse, andbustling little Aunt Alvirah had her put at once to bed.
"Shall I hustle right over to Cheslow for the doctor?" Tom asked.
"Who's goin' to pay him?" growled Uncle Jabez, who heard this.
"Don't let that worry you, Mr. Potter," said the youth, his black eyesflashing. "If I hire a doctor I always pay him."
"It's a good thing to have that repertation," Uncle Jabez said drily."One should pay the debts he contracts."
But Aunt Alvirah scoffed at the need of a doctor.
"The gal's only fainted. Scare't it's likely, findin' herself adrift inthat boat. You needn't trouble yourself about it, Jabez."
Thus reassured the miller went back to examine the boat. Although it wassomewhat marred, it was not damaged, and Uncle Jabez was satisfied thatif nobody claimed the boat he would be amply repaid for his trouble.
Naturally, the two girls fluttered about the stranger a good deal whenAunt Alvirah had brought her out of her faint. Ruth was particularlyattracted by "Maggie" as the stranger announced her name to be.
"I was working at one of those summer-folks' camps up the river. Mr.Bender's, it was," she explained to Ruth, later. "But all the folks wentlast night, and this morning I was going across the river with mybag--oh, did you find my bag, Miss?"
"Surely," Ruth laughed. "It is here, beside your bed."
"Oh, thank you," said the girl. "Mr. Bender paid me last night. One ofthe men was to take me across the river, and I sat down and waited, andnobody came, and by and by I fell into a nap and when I woke up I wasout in the river, all alone. My! I was frightened."
"Then you have no reason for going back to the camp?" asked Ruth,thoughtfully.
"No--Miss. I'm through up there for the season. I'll look for anothersituation--I--I mean job," she added stammeringly.
"We will telephone up the river and tell them you are all right," Ruthsaid.
"Oh, thank you--Miss."
Ruth asked her several other questions, and although Maggie wasreserved, her answers were satisfactory.
"But what's goin' to become of the gal?" Uncle Jabez asked that eveningafter supper, when he and his niece were in the farmhouse kitchen alone.
Aunt Alvirah had carried tea and toast in to the patient and was sittingby her.
The girl of the Red Mill thought Maggie did not seem like the usual"hired help" whom she had seen. She seemed much more refined than onemight expect a girl to be of the class to which she claimed to belong.
Ruth looked across the table at her cross-grained old relative and madeno direct reply to his question. She was very sure that, after all, hewould be kind to the strange girl if Maggie actually needed to behelped. But Ruth had an idea that Maggie was quite capable of helpingherself.
"Uncle Jabez," the girl of the Red Mill said to the old man, softly, "doyou know something?"
"Huh?" grunted Uncle Jabez. "I know a hull lot more than you youngsprigs gimme credit for knowin'."
"Oh! I didn't mean it that way," and Ruth laughed cheerily at him. "Imean that I have discovered something, and I wondered if you haddiscovered the same thing?"
"Out with it, Niece Ruth," he ordered, eyeing her curiously. "I'll tellye if it's anything I already know."
"Well, Aunt Alvirah is growing old."
"Ye don't say!" snapped the miller. "And who ain't, I'd like to know?"
"Her rheumatism is much worse, and it will soon be winter."
"Say! what air ye tryin' to do?" he demanded. "Tellin' me these herepuffictly obvious things! Of course she's gittin' older; and of courseher rheumatiz is bound to grow wuss. Doctors ain't never yet foundnothin' to cure rheumatiz. And winter us'ally follers fall--even in thishere tarnation climate."
"Well, but the combination is going to be very bad for Aunt Alvirah,"Ruth said gently, determined to pursue her idea to the finish, no matterhow cross he appeared to be.
"Wal, is it _my_ fault?" asked Uncle Jabez.
"It's nobody's fault," Ruth told him, shaking her head, and veryserious. "But it's Aunt Alvirah's misfortune."
"Huh!"
"And we must do something about it."
"Huh! Must we? What, I'd like to have ye tell me?" said the old miller,eyeing Ruth much as one strange dog might another that he suspected wasafter his best marrow bone.
"We must get somebody to help her do the work while I am at college,"Ruth said firmly.
The dull red flooded into Uncle Jabez's cheeks, and for once gave him alittle color. His narrow eyes sparkled, too.
"There's one thing I've allus said, Niece Ruth," he declared hotly. "Yeair a great one for spending other folks' money."
It was Ruth's turn to flush now, and although she might not possess whatAunt Alvirah called "the Potter economical streak," she did own to aspark of the Potter temper. Ruth Fielding was not namby-pamby, althoughshe was far from quarrelsome.
"Uncle Jabez," she returned rather tartly, "have I been spending much of_your_ money lately?"
"No," he growled. "But ye ain't l'arnt how to take proper keer of yerown--trapsin' 'round the country the way you do."
She laughed then. "I'm getting knowledge. Some of it comes high, I havefound; but it will all help me _live_."
"Huh! I've lived without that brand of l'arnin'," grunted Uncle Jabez.
Ruth looked at him amusedly. She was tempted to tell him that he had notlived, only existed. But she was not impudent, and merely went on tosay:
"Aunt Alvirah is getting too old to do all the work here----"
"I send Ben in to help her some when she's alone," said the miller.
"And by so doing put extra work on poor Ben," Ruth told him, decidedly."No, Aunt Alvirah must have another woman around, or a girl."
"Whe
re ye goin' to find the gal?" snapped the miller. "Work gals don'tlike to stay in the country."
"She's found, I believe," Ruth told him.
"Huh?"
"This Maggie we just got out of the river. She has no job, she says, andshe wants one. I believe she'll stay."
"Who's goin' to pay her wages?" demanded Uncle Jabez, getting back to"first principles" again.
"I'll pay the girl's wages, Uncle Jabez," Ruth said seriously. "But youmust feed her. And she must be fed well, too. I can see that part of hertrouble is malnutrition."
"Huh? Has she got some ketchin' disease?" Uncle Jabez demanded.
"It isn't contagious," Ruth replied drily. "But unless she is well fedshe cannot be cured of it."
"Wal, there's plenty of milk and eggs," the miller said.
"But you must not hide the key of the meat-house, Uncle," and now Ruthlaughed outright at him. "Four people at table means a depletion of yoursmoked meat and a dipping occasionally into the corned-beef barrel."
"Wal----"
"Now, if I pay the girl's wages, you must supply the food," his niecesaid, firmly, "Otherwise, Aunt Alvirah will go without help, and thenshe will break down, and _then_----"
"Huh!" grunted the miller. "I couldn't let her go back to the poorfarm,I s'pose?"
He actually made it a question; but Ruth could not see his face, for hehad turned aside.
"No. She could not return to the poorhouse--after fifteen years!"exclaimed the girl. "Do you know what _I_ should do?" and she asked thequestion warmly.
"Somethin' fullish, I allow."
"I should take her to Ardmore with me, and find a tiny cottage for her,and maybe she would keep house for Helen and me."
"That'd be jest like ye, Niece Ruth," he responded coolly. "You thinkyou have all the money in the world. That's because ye didn't aim whatye got--it was give to ye."
The statement was in large part true, and for the moment Ruth's lipswere closed. Tears stood in her eyes, too. She realized that she couldnot be independent of the old miller had not chance and kind-hearted andgrateful Mrs. Rachel Parsons given her the bulk of the amount nowdeposited in her name in the bank.
Ruth Fielding's circumstances had been very different when she had firstcome to Cheslow and the Red Mill. Then she was a little, homeless,orphan girl who was "taken in out of charity" by Uncle Jabez. And verykeenly and bitterly had she been made to feel during those first fewmonths her dependence upon the crabbed old miller.
The introductory volume of this series, "Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill,or, Jacob Parloe's Secret," details in full the little girl's trials andtriumphs under these unfortunate conditions--how she makes friends,smooths over difficulties, and in a measure wins old Uncle Jabez'sapproval. The miller was a very honest man and always paid his debts.Because of something Ruth did for him he felt it to be his duty to payher first year's tuition at boarding school, where she went with her newfriend, Helen Cameron. In "Ruth Fielding at Briarwood Hall," the RedMill girl really begins her school career, and begins, too, to satisfythat inbred longing for independence which was so strong a part of hercharacter.
In succeeding volumes of the "Ruth Fielding Series," we follow Ruth'sadventures in Snow Camp, a winter lodge in the Adirondack wilderness; atLighthouse Point, the summer home of a girl friend on the Atlanticcoast; at Silver Ranch, in Montana; at Cliff Island; at Sunrise Farm;with the Gypsies, which was a very important adventure, indeed, for RuthFielding. In this eighth story Ruth was able to recover for Mrs. RachelParsons, an aunt of one of her school friends, a very valuable pearlnecklace, and as a reward of five thousand dollars had been offered forthe recovery of the necklace, the entire sum came to Ruth. This moneymade Ruth financially independent of Uncle Jabez.
The ninth volume of the series, entitled, "Ruth Fielding in MovingPictures; or, Helping the Dormitory Fund," shows Ruth and her chumsengaged in film production. Ruth discovered that she could write a goodscenario--a very good scenario, indeed. Mr. Hammond, president of theAlectrion Film Corporation, encouraged her to write others. When theWest Dormitory of Briarwood Hall was burned and it was discovered thatthere had been no insurance on the building, the girls determined to doall in their power to rebuild the structure.
Ruth was inspired to write a scenario, a five-reel drama of schoolgirllife, and Mr. Hammond produced it, Ruth's share of the profits goingtoward the building fund. "The Heart of a Schoolgirl" was not onlylocally famous, but was shown all over the country and was even now,after six months, paying the final construction bills of the WestDormitory, at Briarwood.
In this ninth volume of the series, Ruth and Helen and many of theirchums graduated from Briarwood Hall. Immediately after the graduationthe girl of the Red Mill and Helen Cameron were taken south by NettieParsons and her Aunt Rachel to visit the Merredith plantation in SouthCarolina. Their adventures were fully related in the story immediatelypreceding the present narrative, the tenth of the "Ruth FieldingSeries," entitled, "Ruth Fielding Down in Dixie; or, Great Times in theLand of Cotton."
Home again, after that delightful journey, Ruth had spent most of theremaining weeks of her vacation quietly at the Red Mill. She was engagedupon another scenario for Mr. Hammond, in which the beautiful old millon the Lumano would figure largely. She also had had many preparationsto make for her freshman year at Ardmore.
Ruth and Helen were quite "young ladies" now, so Tom scoffingly said.And going to college was quite another thing from looking forward to aterm at a preparatory school. Nevertheless, Ruth had found plenty oftime to help Aunt Alvirah during the past few weeks.
She had noted how much feebler the old woman was becoming. Therefore,she was determined to win Uncle Jabez to her plan of securing help inthe Red Mill kitchen. The coming of the girl, Maggie, though a strangecoincidence, Ruth looked upon as providential. She urged Uncle Jabez toagree to her proposal, and the very next morning she sounded Maggie uponthe subject. The strange girl was sitting up, but Aunt Alvirah would nothear to her doing anything as yet. Ruth found Maggie in thesitting-room, engaged in looking at the Ardmore Year Book which Ruth hadleft upon the sitting-room table.
"Pretty landscapes about the college, aren't they?" Ruth suggested.
"Oh yes--Miss. Very pretty," agreed Maggie.
"That is where I am going to college," Ruth explained. "I enter as afreshman next week."
"Is that so--Miss?" hesitated Maggie. Her heretofore colorless faceflushed warmly. "I've heard of that--that place," she added.
"Indeed, have you?"
Maggie was looking at the photograph of Lake Remona, with a part ofBliss Island at one side. She continued to stare at the picture whileRuth put before her the suggestion of work at the Red Mill.
"Oh, of course, Miss Fielding, I'd be glad of the work. And you're veryliberal. But you don't know anything about me."
"No. And I shouldn't know much more about you if you brought a dozenrecommendations," laughed Ruth.
"I suppose not--Miss." It seemed hard for the girl to get out that"Miss," and Ruth, who was keenly observant, wondered if she really hadbeen accustomed to using it.
They talked it over and finally reached an agreement. Aunt Alvirah wassweetly grateful to Ruth, knowing full well that there must have been a"battle royal" between the miller and his niece before the former hadagreed to the new arrangement.
Ruth was quite sure that Maggie was a nice girl, even if she was queer.At least, she gave deference to the quaint little old housekeeper, andseemed to like Aunt Alvirah very much. And who would not love the woman,who was everybody's aunt but nobody's relative?
Once or twice Ruth found Maggie poring over the Year Book of ArdmoreCollege, rather an odd interest for a girl of her class. But Maggie wasrather an odd girl anyway, and Ruth forgot the matter in her finalpreparations for departure.