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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:05:42 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:05:42 -0700 |
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diff --git a/36396-h/36396-h.htm b/36396-h/36396-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..43a0731 --- /dev/null +++ b/36396-h/36396-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9704 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" > +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <meta content="Ruth Fielding in the Saddle" name="DC.Title"/> + <meta content="Alice B. Emerson" name="DC.Creator"/> + <meta content="en" name="DC.Language"/> + <meta content="1917" name="DC.Created"/> + <meta name="generator" content="ppgen (1.13) generated Jun 12, 2011 04:12 AM" /> + <title>Ruth Fielding in the Saddle</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h2 {text-align:left; font-weight:normal;} + h1 {font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h2 {font-size:1.2em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:center;} + .larger {font-size:larger;} + .smaller {font-size:smaller;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + table.c {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps} + div.center>:first-child {margin: .5em auto 0 auto;text-align:center;} + div.center p {margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;} + hr.tb {border:none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; margin: 20px auto; width:35%} + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Ruth Fielding In the Saddle, by Alice B. Emerson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Ruth Fielding In the Saddle + College Girls in the Land of Gold + +Author: Alice B. Emerson + +Release Date: June 12, 2011 [EBook #36396] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank, David Edwards and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i001' id='i001'></a> +<img src='images/dust.jpg' alt='' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i002' id='i002'></a> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="AS THE MAD HORSE CIRCLED HER, THE GIRL STRUCK AGAIN AND AGAIN. Page 171" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>AS THE MAD HORSE CIRCLED HER, THE GIRL STRUCK<br/>AGAIN AND AGAIN. <i>Page 171</i></span> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>Ruth Fielding</span></p> +<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>In the Saddle</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p>OR</p> +<p> </p> +<p>COLLEGE GIRLS IN</p> +<p>THE LAND OF GOLD</p> +<p> </p> +<p>BY</p> +<p> </p> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>ALICE B. EMERSON</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>Author of “Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill,”</span></p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>“Ruth Fielding on Cliff Island,” Etc.</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><em>ILLUSTRATED</em></p> +</div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i003' id='i003'></a> +<img src='images/title.jpg' alt='' width='15%' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>NEW YORK</span></p> +<p>CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY</p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>PUBLISHERS</span></p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p>Books for Girls</p> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>BY ALICE B. EMERSON</span></p> +<p>RUTH FIELDING SERIES</p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.</span></p> +</div> +<div style='font-size:smaller; margin:20px auto'> +<table class='c' summary='centered block'><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, Jasper Parloe’s Secret.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOOD HALL</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, Solving the Campus Mystery.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, Lost in the Backwoods.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, Nita, The Girl Castaway.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, The Old Hunter’s Treasure Box.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, What Became of the Raby Orphans.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, The Missing Pearl Necklace.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURES</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, Helping the Dormitory Fund.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIE</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, Great Times in the Land of Cotton.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGE</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, The Missing Examination Papers.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Or, College Girls in the Land of Gold.</p> +</td></tr></table> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<p><span class='sc'>Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York.</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1917, by</span></p> +<p><span class='sc'>Cupples & Leon Company</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='sc'>Ruth Fielding in the Saddle</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p>Printed in U. S. A.</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>CONTENTS</span></p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary='table of contents'> +<tr><td style='font-size:smaller'>CHAPTER</td><td></td><td style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>I.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>What Is Coming</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chI'>1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>II.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Eavesdropping</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chII'>9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>III.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Letter from Yucca</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIII'>18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Week at Home</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIV'>26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>V.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Girl in Lower Five</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chV'>35</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Somebody Ahead of Them</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVI'>44</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Mysterious Affair</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVII'>52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Min</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVIII'>58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>In the Saddle at Last</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIX'>67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>X.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Stampede</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chX'>75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>At Handy Gulch</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXI'>82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Min Shows Her Mettle</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXII'>94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>An Ursine Holdup</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIII'>100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>At Freezeout Camp</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIV'>109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>More Discoveries</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXV'>117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>New Arrivals</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVI'>124</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Man in the Cabin</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVII'>134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ruth Really Has a Secret</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVIII'>142</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Something Unexpected</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIX'>151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Mad Stallion</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXX'>159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Peril of the Saddle</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXI'>167</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ruth Hears Something</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXII'>177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>More of It</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXIII'>185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXIV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Real Thing</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXIV'>192</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Uncle Jabez Is Converted</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXV'>199</a></td></tr> +</table> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<h1><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1'></a>1</span>Ruth Fielding in the Saddle</h1> +<h2><a name='chI' id='chI'></a>CHAPTER I—WHAT IS COMING</h2> +<p> +“Will you do it?” asked the eager, black-eyed +girl sitting on the deep window shelf. +</p> +<p> +“If Mr. Hammond says the synopsis of the +picture is all right, I’ll go.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Ruthie! It would be just—just scrumptious!” +</p> +<p> +“<em>We’ll</em> go, Helen—just as we agreed last +week,” said her chum, laughing happily. +</p> +<p> +“It will be great! great!” murmured Helen +Cameron, her hands clasped in blissful anticipation. +“Right into the ‘wild and woolly.’ Dear +me, Ruth Fielding, we <em>do</em> have the nicest times—you +and I!” +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t overlook me,” grumbled the third +and rather plump freshman who occupied the +most comfortable chair in the chums’ study in +Dare Hall. +</p> +<p> +“That would be rather—er—impossible, +wouldn’t it, Heavy?” suggested Helen Cameron, +rolling her black eyes. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2'></a>2</span> +</p> +<p> +Jennie Stone made a face like a street gamin, +but otherwise ignored Helen’s cruel suggestion. +“I’d rather register joy, too——Oh, yes, I’m +going with you; have written home about it. +Have to tell Aunt Kate ahead, you know. Yes, +I’d register joy, if it weren’t for one thing that +I see looming before us.” +</p> +<p> +“What’s that, honey?” asked Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“The horseback ride from Yucca into the Hualapai +Range seems like a doubtful equation to +me.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you mean ‘doubtful equestrianism’?” +put in the black-eyed girl with a chuckle. +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps I do,” sighed Jennie. “You know, +I’m a regular sailor on horseback.” +</p> +<p> +“You should have taken it up when we were +all at Silver Ranch with Ann Hicks,” Ruth said. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, say not so!” begged Jennie Stone lugubriously. +“What I should have done in the past +has nothing to do with this coming summer. I +groan to think of what I shall have to endure.” +</p> +<p> +“Who will do the groaning for the horse that +has to carry you, Heavy?” interposed the irrepressible +Helen, giving her the old nickname that +Jennie Stone now scarcely deserved. +</p> +<p> +“Never mind. Let the horse do his own worrying,” +was the placid reply. The temper of +the well nourished girl was not easily ruffled. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span> +</p> +<p> +“Why, Jennie, <em>think!</em>” ejaculated Helen, suddenly +turned brisk and springing down from the +window seat. “It will be just the jaunt for you. +The physical culturists claim there is nothing so +good for reducing flesh and helping one’s poor, +sluggish liver as horseback riding.” +</p> +<p> +“Say!” drawled the other girl, her nose tilted +at a scornful angle, “those people say a lot more +than their prayers—believe me! Most physical +culturists have never ridden any kind of horse +in their lives but a hobbyhorse—and they still +ride <em>that</em> when they are senile.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth applauded. “A Daniel come to judgment!” +she cried. +</p> +<p> +“Huh!” sniffed Jennie, suspiciously. “What +does that mean?” +</p> +<p> +“I—I don’t just know myself,” confessed +Ruth. “But it sounds good—and Dr. Milroth +used it this morning in chapel, so it must be all +right.” +</p> +<p> +“Anything that our revered dean says goes big +with me, I confess,” said Jennie. “Oh, girls! +isn’t she just a dear?” +</p> +<p> +“And hasn’t Ardmore been just the delightsomest +place for nine months?” cried Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Even better than Briarwood,” agreed Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“That sounds almost sacrilegious,” Helen observed. +“I don’t know about any place being +finer than old Briarwood.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +</p> +<p> +“There’s Ann!” cried Ruth in a tone that +made both the others jump. +</p> +<p> +“Where? Where?” demanded Helen, whirling +about to look out of the window again. The +window gave a broad view of the lower slope +of College Hill and the expanse of Lake Remona. +Dusk was just dropping, for the time +was after dinner; but objects were still to be +clearly observed. “Where’s Jane Ann Hicks?” +</p> +<p> +“Just completing her full course at Briarwood +Hall,” Ruth explained demurely. “She will go +to Montana, of course. But if I write her I +know she’ll join us at Yucca just for the fun of +the ride.” +</p> +<p> +“Some people’s idea of fun!” groaned Jennie. +</p> +<p> +“What are <em>you</em> attempting to go for, then?” +demanded Helen, somewhat wonderingly. +</p> +<p> +“Because I think it is my duty,” the plump +girl declared. “You young and flighty freshies +aren’t fit to go so far without somebody solid +along——” +</p> +<p> +“‘Solid!’ You said it!” scoffed Helen. +</p> +<p> +“I was referring to character, Miss Cameron,” +returned the other shaking her head. “But +Ann is certainly a good fellow. I hope she will +go, Ruth.” +</p> +<p> +“I declare, Ruthie,” exclaimed her chum, “you +are getting up a regular party!” +</p> +<p> +“Why not?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span> +</p> +<p> +“It <em>will</em> be great fun,” acknowledged the black-eyed +girl. +</p> +<p> +“Of course it will, goosie,” said Jennie Stone. +“Isn’t everything that Ruth Fielding plans always +fun? Say, Ruth, there are some girls right +here at Ardmore—and freshies, too—who would +be tickled to death to join us.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” objected Ruth, laughing at her +friend’s exuberance. “I wouldn’t wish to be the +cause of a general massacre, so perhaps we’d +better not invite any of the other girls.” +</p> +<p> +“Little Davenport would go,” Jennie pursued. +“She’s a regular bear on a pony.” +</p> +<p> +“Bareback riding, do you mean, Heavy?” +drawled Helen. +</p> +<p> +Except for a look, which she hoped was withering, +this was ignored by the plump girl, who went +on: “Trix would jump at the chance, Ruth. You +know, she has no regular home. She’s just +passed around from one family of relations to +another during vacations. She told me so.” +</p> +<p> +“Would her guardian agree?” asked Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Nothing easier. She told me he wouldn’t +care if she joined that party that’s going to start +for the south pole this season. He’s afraid of +girls. He’s an old bachelor—and a misogynist.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” murmured Helen. “There +should be something done about letting such savage +animals be at large.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +</p> +<p> +“It’s no fun for poor little Trix,” said Jennie. +</p> +<p> +“She shall be asked,” Ruth declared. “And +Sally Blanchard.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes!” cried Helen. “She owns a horse, +and has been riding three times a week all this +spring. Her father believes that horseback riding +keeps the doctor away.” +</p> +<p> +“Improvement on ‘an apple a day keeps the +doctor away,’” quoted Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“How about eating an onion a day?” put in +Jennie. “That will keep everybody away!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Jennie, we’re not getting anywhere!” +declared Helen Cameron. “<em>Are</em> you going to invite +a bunch of girls, Ruth, to go West with us?” +</p> +<p> +This is how the idea germinated and took root. +Ruth and Helen had talked over the possibility +of making the trip into the Hualapai Range for +more than a fortnight; but nothing had as yet +been planned in detail. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Hammond, president of the Alectrion +Film Corporation had conceived the idea of a +spectacular production on the screen of “The +Forty-Niners”—as the title implied, a picture of +the early gold digging in the West. He had +heard of an abandoned mining camp in Mohave +County, Arizona, which could easily and cheaply +be put into the condition it was before its inhabitants +stampeded for other gold diggings. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Hammond desired to have most of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +scenes taken at Freezeout Camp and he had +talked over the plot of the story with Ruth Fielding, +whose previous successes as a scenario writer +were remarkable. The producer wished, too, that +Ruth should visit the abandoned mining camp +to get her “local color” and to be on the scene +when his company arrived to make the films. +</p> +<p> +There was a particular reason, too, why Ruth +had a more than ordinary interest in this proposed +production. Instead of being paid outright +for her work as the writer of the scenario, some +of her own money was to be invested in the picture. +Having taken up the making of motion +pictures seriously and hoping to make it her livelihood +after graduating from college, Ruth wished +her money as well as her brains to work for her. +</p> +<p> +Nor was the president of the Alectrion Film +Corporation doing an unprecedented thing in +making this arrangement. In this way the shrewd +capitalists behind the great film-making companies +have obtained the best work from chief directors, +the most brilliant screen stars, and the more successful +scenario writers. To give those who +show special talent in the chief departments of +the motion picture industry a financial interest in +the work, has proved gainful to all concerned. +</p> +<p> +Ruth had walked slowly to the window, and +she stood a moment looking out into the warm +June dusk. The campus was deserted, but lights +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span> +glimmered everywhere in the windows of the +Ardmore dormitories. This was the evening +before Commencement Day and most of the +seniors and juniors were holding receptions, or +“tea fights.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you think, girls?” Ruth said thoughtfully. +“Of course, we’ll have to have the guide +Mr. Hammond spoke about, and a packtrain +anyway. And the more girls the merrier.” +</p> +<p> +“Bully!” breathed the slangy Miss Stone, wiggling +in her chair. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I vote we do, Ruth. Have ’em all meet +at Yucca and——” +</p> +<p> +Suddenly Ruth cried out and sprang back from +the window. +</p> +<p> +“What’s the matter, dear?” asked Helen, rushing +over to her and seizing her chum’s arm. +</p> +<p> +“What bit you, Ruth Fielding? A mosquito?” +demanded Jennie. +</p> +<p> +“Sh! girls,” breathed the girl of the Red Mill +softly. “There’s somebody just under this window—on +the ledge!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span><a name='chII' id='chII'></a>CHAPTER II—EAVESDROPPING</h2> +<p> +Helen tiptoed to the window and peered out +suddenly. She expected to catch the eavesdropper, +but—— +</p> +<p> +“Why, there’s nobody here, Ruth,” she complained. +</p> +<p> +“No-o?” +</p> +<p> +“Not a soul. The ledge is bare away to the +end. You—you must have been mistaken, dear.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth looked out again and Jennie Stone +crowded in between them, likewise eager to see. +</p> +<p> +“I know there was a girl there,” whispered +Ruth. “She lay right under this window.” +</p> +<p> +“But what for? Trying to scare us?” asked +Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Trying to break her own neck, I should +think,” sniffed Jennie. “Who’d risk climbing +along this ledge?” +</p> +<p> +“<em>I</em> have,” confessed Helen. “It’s not such a +stunt. Other girls have.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span> +</p> +<p> +“But <em>why?</em>” demanded the plump freshman. +“What was she here for?” +</p> +<p> +“Listening, I tell you,” Helen said. +</p> +<p> +“To what? We weren’t discussing buried +treasure—or even any personal scandal,” laughed +Jennie. “What do you think, Ruth?” +</p> +<p> +“That is strange,” murmured the girl of the +Red Mill reflectively. +</p> +<p> +“The strangest thing is where she could have +gone so quickly,” said Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Pshaw! around the corner—the nearest corner, +of course,” observed Jennie with conviction. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! I didn’t think of that,” cried Ruth, and +went to the other window, for the study shared +during their freshman year by her and Helen +Cameron was a corner room with windows looking +both west and south. +</p> +<p> +When the trio of puzzled girls looked out of +the other open window, however, the wide ledge +of sandstone which ran all around Dare Hall +just beneath the second story windows was deserted. +</p> +<p> +“Who lives along that way?” asked Jennie, +meaning the occupants of the several rooms the +windows of which overlooked the ledge on the +west side of the building. +</p> +<p> +“Why—May MacGreggor for one,” said +Helen. “But it wouldn’t be May. She’s not +snoopy.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +</p> +<p> +“I should say not! Nor is Rebecca Frayne,” +Ruth said. “She has the fifth room away. And +girls! I believe Rebecca would be delighted to go +with us to Arizona.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh—well——Could she go?” asked Helen +pointedly. +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps. Maybe it can be arranged,” Ruth +said reflectively. +</p> +<p> +She seemed to wish to lead the attention of +the other two from the mystery of the girl she +had observed on the ledge. But Helen, who +knew her so well, pinched Ruth’s arm and whispered: +</p> +<p> +“I believe you know who it was, Ruthie Fielding. +You can’t fool me.” +</p> +<p> +“Sh!” admonished her friend, and because +Ruth’s influence was very strong with the black-eyed +girl, the latter said no more about the mystery +just then. +</p> +<p> +Ruth Fielding’s influence over Helen had begun +some years before—indeed, almost as soon as +Ruth herself, a heart-sore little orphan, had arrived +at the Red Mill to live with her Uncle Jabez +and his little old housekeeper, Aunt Alvirah, “who +was nobody’s relative, but everybody’s aunt.” +</p> +<p> +Helen and her twin brother, Tom Cameron, +were the first friends Ruth made, and in the first +volume of this series of stories, entitled, “Ruth +Fielding of the Red Mill,” is related the birth and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +growth of this friendship. Ruth and Helen go to +Briarwood Hall for succeeding terms until they +are ready for college; and their life there and their +adventures during their vacations at Snow Camp, +at Lighthouse Point, at Silver Ranch, at Cliff Island, +at Sunrise Farm, with the Gypsies, in Moving +Pictures and Down in Dixie are related in +successive volumes. +</p> +<p> +Following this first vacation trip Ruth and +Helen, with their old chum Jennie Stone, entered +Ardmore College, and in “Ruth Fielding at College; +Or, The Missing Examination Papers,” the +happenings of the chums’ freshman year at this +institution for higher education are narrated. +</p> +<p> +The present story, the twelfth of the series, +opens during the closing days of the college year. +Ruth’s plans for the summer—or for the early +weeks of it at least—are practically made. +</p> +<p> +The trip West, into the Hualapai Range of Arizona +for the business of making a moving picture +of “The Forty-Niners” had already stirred the +imagination of Ruth and her two closest friends. +But the idea of forming a larger party to ride +through the wilds from Yucca to Freezeout Camp +was a novel one. +</p> +<p> +“It will be great fun,” said Helen again. “Of +course, old Tom will go along anyway——” +</p> +<p> +“To chaperon us,” giggled Jennie. +</p> +<p> +“No. To see we don’t fall out of our saddles,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +Ruth laughed. “Now! let’s think about it, girls, +and decide on whom we shall invite.” +</p> +<p> +“Trix and Sally,” Jennie said. +</p> +<p> +“And Ann Hicks!” cried Helen. “You write +to her, Ruth.” +</p> +<p> +“I will to-night,” promised her chum. “And +I’m going to speak to Rebecca Frayne at once.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll see Beatrice,” stated Jennie, moving toward +the door. +</p> +<p> +“And I’ll run and ask Sally. She’s a good old +scout,” said Helen. +</p> +<p> +But as soon as the plump girl had departed, +Helen flung herself upon Ruth. “Who was she? +Tell me, quick!” she demanded. +</p> +<p> +“The girl under that window?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course. You know, Ruthie.” +</p> +<p> +“I—I suspect,” her chum said slowly. +</p> +<p> +“Tell me!” +</p> +<p> +“Edie Phelps.” +</p> +<p> +“There!” exclaimed Helen, her black eyes +fairly snapping with excitement. “I thought so.” +</p> +<p> +“You did?” asked Ruth, puzzled. “Why +should she be listening to us? She’s never shown +any particular interest in us Briarwoods.” +</p> +<p> +“But for a week or two I’ve noticed her hanging +around. It’s something concerning this vacation +trip she wants to find out about, I believe.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, how odd!” Ruth said. “I can’t understand +it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span> +</p> +<p> +“I wish we’d caught her,” said Helen, sharply, +for she did not like the sophomore in question. +Edith Phelps had been something of a “thorn in +the flesh” to the chums during their freshman year. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I don’t know,” Ruth murmured. “It +would only have brought on another quarrel with +her. We’d better ignore it altogether I think.” +</p> +<p> +“Humph!” sniffed Helen. “That doesn’t satisfy +my curiosity; and I’m frank to confess that +I’m bitten deep by <em>that</em> microbe.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh well, my dear,” said Ruth, teasingly, +“there are many things in this life it is better you +should not know. Ahem! I’m going to see Rebecca.” +</p> +<p> +Helen ran off, too, to Sarah Blanchard’s room. +Many of the girls’ doors were ajar and there was +much visiting back and forth on this last evening; +while the odor of tea permeated every nook +and cranny of Dare Hall. +</p> +<p> +Rebecca’s door was closed, however, as Ruth +expected. Rebecca Frayne was not as yet socially +popular at Ardmore—not even among the girls +of her own class. +</p> +<p> +In the first place she had come to college with +an entirely wrong idea of what opportunities for +higher education meant for a girl. Her people +were very poor and very proud—a family of old +New England stock that looked down upon those +who achieved success “in trade.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +</p> +<p> +Had it not been for Ruth Fielding’s very good +sense, and her advice and aid, Rebecca could never +have remained at Ardmore to complete her freshman +year. During this time, and especially toward +the last of the school year, she had learned +some things of importance besides what was contained +within the covers of her textbooks. +</p> +<p> +But Ruth worried over the possibility that before +their sophomore year should open in September, +the influence at home would undo all the good +Rebecca Frayne had gained. +</p> +<p> +“I’ve just the thing for you, Becky!” Ruth +Fielding cried, carrying her friend’s study by +storm. “What do you think?” +</p> +<p> +“Something nice, I presume, Ruth Fielding. +You always <em>are</em> doing something uncommonly kind +for me.” +</p> +<p> +“Nonsense!” +</p> +<p> +“No nonsense about it. I was just wondering +what I should ever do without you all this long +summer.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s it!” cried Ruth, laughing. “You’re +not going to get rid of me so easily.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean?” asked Rebecca, wonderingly. +</p> +<p> +“That you’ll go with us. I need you badly, +Becky. You’ve learned to rattle the typewriter so +nicely——” +</p> +<p> +“Want me to get an office position for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +summer near you?” Rebecca asked, the flush rising +in her cheek. +</p> +<p> +“Better than that,” declared Ruth, ignoring Rebecca’s +flush and tone of voice. “You know, I told +you we are going West.” +</p> +<p> +“You and Cameron? Yes.” +</p> +<p> +“And Jennie Stone, and perhaps others. But +I want you particularly.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Ruth Fielding! I couldn’t! You know +just how <em>dirt poor</em> we are. It’s all Buddie can do +to find the money for my soph year here. No! +It is impossible!” +</p> +<p> +“Nothing is impossible. ‘In the bright lexicon +of youth,’ and so forth. You can go if you will.” +</p> +<p> +“I couldn’t accept such a great kindness, Ruth,” +Rebecca said, in her hard voice. +</p> +<p> +“Better wait till you learn how terribly kind I +am,” laughed Ruth. “I have an axe to grind, my +dear.” +</p> +<p> +“An axe!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, indeedy! I want you to help me. I +really do.” +</p> +<p> +“To <em>write?</em>” gasped Rebecca. “You know very +well, Ruth Fielding, that I can scarcely compose +a decent letter. I <em>hate</em> that form of human folly +known as ‘Lit-ra-choor.’ I couldn’t do it.” +</p> +<p> +“No,” said Ruth, smiling demurely. “I am +going to write my own scenario. But I will get a +portable typewriter, and I want you to copy my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +stuff. Besides, there will be several copies to +make, and some work after the director gets +there. Oh, you’ll have no sinecure! And if you’ll +go and do it, I’ll put up the money but you’ll be +paying all the expenses, Becky. What say?” +</p> +<p> +Ruth knew very well that if she had offered to +pay Rebecca a salary the foolishly proud girl +would never have accepted. But she had put it in +such a way that Rebecca Frayne could not but accept. +</p> +<p> +“You dear!” she said, with her arms about +Ruth’s neck and displaying as she seldom did the +real love she felt for the girl of the Red Mill. +“I’ll do it. I’ve an old riding habit of auntie’s +that I can make over. And of course, I can ride.” +</p> +<p> +“You’d better make your habit into bloomers +and a divided skirt,” laughed Ruth. “That’s how +Jane Ann—and Helen and Jennie, too—will dress, +as well as your humble servant. There <em>are</em> women +who ride sidesaddle in the West; but they do not +ride into the rough trails that we are going to attempt. +In fact, most of ’em wear trousers outright.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness! My aunt would have a fit,” murmured +Rebecca Frayne. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span><a name='chIII' id='chIII'></a>CHAPTER III—THE LETTER FROM YUCCA</h2> +<p> +Before Dare Hall was quiet that night it was +known throughout the dormitory that six girls of +the freshman class were going to spend a part of +the summer vacation in the wilds of Arizona. +</p> +<p> +“Like enough we’ll never see any of them +again,” declared May MacGreggor. “The female +of the species is scarce in ‘them parts,’ I +understand. They will all six get married to cowboys, +or gold miners, or——” +</p> +<p> +“Or movie actors,” snapped Edith Phelps, with +a toss of her head. “I presume Fielding is quite +familiar with any quantity of ‘juvenile leads’ and +‘stunt’ actors as well as ‘custard-pie comedians.’” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, behave, Edie!” chuckled the Scotch girl. +“I’d love to go with ’em myself, but I must help +mother take care of the children this summer. +There’s a wild bunch of ‘loons’ at my house.” +</p> +<p> +Fortunately, Helen Cameron did not hear +Edith’s criticism. Helen had a sharp tongue of +her own and she had no fear now of the sophomore. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +Indeed, both Ruth and Helen had quite +forgotten over night their suspicions regarding the +girl at their study window. They arose betimes +and went for a last run around the college grounds +in their track suits, as they had been doing for +most of the spring. The chums had gone in for +athletics as enthusiastically at Ardmore as they +had at Briarwood Hall. +</p> +<p> +Just as they set out from the broad front steps +of Dare and rounded the corner of the building +toward the west, Ruth stopped with a little cry. +There at her feet lay a letter. +</p> +<p> +“Somebody’s dropped a billet-doux,” said +Helen. “Or is it just an envelope?” +</p> +<p> +Ruth picked it up and turned it over so that +she could see its face. “The letter is in it,” she +said. “And it’s been opened. Why, Helen!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes?” +</p> +<p> +“It’s for Edie Phelps.” +</p> +<p> +Helen had already glanced upward. “And +right under our windows,” she murmured. “I bet +she dropped it when——” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose she did,” said Ruth, as her chum’s +voice trailed off into silence. Suddenly Helen, who +was looking at the face of the envelope, gasped. +</p> +<p> +“Look!” she exclaimed. “See the return address +in the corner?” +</p> +<p> +“Wha——Why, it says: ‘Box 24, R. F. D., +Yucca, Arizona!’” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +</p> +<p> +“Yucca, Arizona,” repeated Helen. “Just +where we are going. Ruth! there is something +very mysterious about this. Do you realize it?” +</p> +<p> +“It is the oddest thing!” exclaimed Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Edith getting letters from out there and then +creeping along that ledge under our windows to +listen. Well, I’d give a cent to know what’s in that +letter.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Helen! We couldn’t,” cried Ruth, +quickly, folding the envelope and slipping it between +the buttons of her blouse. +</p> +<p> +“Just the same,” declared her chum, “she was +eavesdropping on us. We ought to be excused if +we did a little eavesdropping on her by reading her +letter.” +</p> +<p> +But Ruth set off immediately in a good, swinging +trot, and Helen had to close her lips and put +her elbows to her sides to keep up with her. Later, +when they had taken their morning shower and +had dressed and all the girls were trooping down +the main stairway of Dare Hall in answer to the +breakfast call, Ruth spied Edith Phelps and hailed +her, drawing the letter from her bosom. +</p> +<p> +“Hi, Edith Phelps! Here’s something that belongs +to you.” +</p> +<p> +The sophomore turned quickly to face the girl +of the Red Mill, and with no pleasant expression +of countenance. “What have you there?” she +snapped. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +</p> +<p> +“A letter that you dropped,” said Ruth, quietly. +</p> +<p> +“That <em>I</em> dropped?” and she came quickly to +seize the proffered missive. “Ha! I suppose you +took pains to read it?” +</p> +<p> +Ruth drew back, paling. The thrust hurt her +cruelly and although she would not reply, the +sophomore’s gibe did not go without answer. +Helen’s black eyes flashed as she stepped in front +of her chum. +</p> +<p> +“I can assure you Ruth and I do not read other +people’s correspondence any more than we listen +to other people’s private conversation, Phelps,” +she said directly. “We found that letter <em>under +our window where you dropped it last night!</em>” +</p> +<p> +Ruth caught at her arm; but the stroke went +home. Edith Phelps’ face reddened and then +paled. Without further speech she hurried away +with the letter gripped tightly in her hand. She +did not appear at breakfast. +</p> +<p> +“It’s terrible to be always ladylike,” sighed +Helen to Ruth. “I just <em>know</em> we have seen one +end of a mystery. And that’s all we are likely to +see.” +</p> +<p> +“It is the most mysterious thing why Phelps +should be interested in our affairs, and be getting +letters from Yucca,” admitted Ruth. +</p> +<p> +The chums had no further opportunity of talking +this matter over, for it was at breakfast that +Rebecca Frayne threw her bomb. At least, Jennie Stone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +said it was such. Rebecca came over +to Miss Comstock’s table where the chums and +Jennie sat and demanded: +</p> +<p> +“Ruth Fielding! who is going to chaperon your +party?” +</p> +<p> +“What? Chaperon?” murmured Ruth, quite +taken aback by the question. +</p> +<p> +“Of course. You say Helen’s brother is going. +And there will be a guide and other men. We’ve +got to have a chaperon.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” gasped Helen. “Poor old Tommy! If +he knew that! He won’t bite you, Rebecca.” +</p> +<p> +“You girls certainly wouldn’t dream of going +on that long journey unless you were properly +attended?” cried Rebecca, horrified. +</p> +<p> +“What do you think we need?” demanded Jennie +Stone. “A trained nurse, or a governess?” +</p> +<p> +Rebecca was thoroughly shocked. “My aunt +would never hear of such a proceeding,” she affirmed. +“Oh, Ruth Fielding! I want to go with +you; but, of course, there must be some older +woman with us.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course—I presume so,” sighed Ruth. “I +hadn’t thought that far.” +</p> +<p> +“Whom shall we ask?” demanded Helen. +“Mrs. Murchiston won’t go. She’s struck. She +says she is too old to go off with any harum-scarum +crowd of school girls again.” +</p> +<p> +“I like that!” exclaimed Jennie, in a tone that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +showed she did not like it at all. “We have got +past the hobbledehoy age, I should hope.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Comstock, the senior at their table, had +become interested in the affair, and she suggested +pleasantly: +</p> +<p> +“We Ardmores often try to get the unattached +members of the faculty to fill the breach in such +events as this. Try Miss Cullam.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear me!” muttered Helen. +</p> +<p> +Ruth said briskly, “Miss Cullam is just the person. +Do you suppose she has her summer free, +Miss Comstock?” +</p> +<p> +“She was saying only last evening that she had +made no plans.” +</p> +<p> +“She shall make ’em at once,” declared Ruth, +jumping up and leaving her breakfast. “Excuse +me, Miss Comstock. I am going to find Miss +Cullam, instantly.” +</p> +<p> +It was Miss Cullam, too, who had worried most +about the lost examination papers which Ruth had +been the means of finding (as related in “Ruth +Fielding at College”); and the instructor of mathematics +had taken a particular interest in the girl +of the Red Mill and her personal affairs. +</p> +<p> +“I haven’t ridden horseback since I was a girl,” +she said, in some doubt. “And, my <em>dear!</em> you do +not expect me to ride a-straddle as girls do nowadays? +Never!” +</p> +<p> +“Neither will Rebecca,” chuckled Ruth. “But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +we who have been on the plains before, know that +a divided skirt is a blessing to womankind.” +</p> +<p> +“I do not think I shall need that particular +blessing,” Miss Cullam said, rather grimly. “But +I believe I will accept your invitation, Ruth Fielding. +Though perhaps it is not wise for instructors +and pupils to spend their vacations together. The +latter are likely to lose their fear of us——” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Miss Cullam! There isn’t one of us who +has a particle of fear of you,” laughed Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Ahem! that is why some of you do not stand +so well in mathematics as you should,” said the +teacher dryly. +</p> +<p> +That was a busy day; but the party Ruth was +forming made all their plans, subject, of course, +to agreement by their various parents and guardians. +In one week they were to meet in New York, +prepared to make the long journey by train to +Yucca, Arizona, and from that point into the +mountains on horseback. +</p> +<p> +Helen found time for a little private investigation; +but it was not until she and Ruth were on the +way home to Cheslow in the parlor car that she +related her meager discoveries to her chum. +</p> +<p> +“What did you ever learn about Edie Phelps?” +Helen asked. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Edie? I had forgotten about her.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I didn’t forget. The mystery piques +me, as the story writers say,” laughed Helen. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +“Do you know that her father is an awfully rich +man?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, no. Edith doesn’t make a point of telling +everybody perhaps,” returned Ruth, smiling. +</p> +<p> +“No; she doesn’t. You’ve got to hand it to her +for that. But, then, to blow about one’s wealth +is about as crude a thing as one can do, isn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, what about Edith’s father?” asked +Ruth, curiously. +</p> +<p> +“Nothing particular. Only he is one of our +‘captains of industry’ that the Sunday papers tell +about. Makes oodles of money in mines, so I was +told. Edith has no mother. She had a +brother——” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! is he dead?” cried Ruth, with sympathy. +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps he’d better be. He was rusticated +from his college last year. It was quite a scandal. +His father disowned him and he disappeared. +Edith felt awfully, May says.” +</p> +<p> +“Too bad,” sighed Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Why, of course, it’s too bad,” grumbled +Helen. “But that doesn’t help us find out why +Edie is so much interested in our going to Yucca; +nor how she comes to be in correspondence with +anybody in that far, far western town. What do +you think it means, Ruthie?” +</p> +<p> +“I haven’t the least idea,” declared the girl of +the Red Mill, shaking her head. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span><a name='chIV' id='chIV'></a>CHAPTER IV—A WEEK AT HOME</h2> +<p> +Mr. Cameron met the chums <em>en route</em>, and the +next morning they arrived at Seven Oaks in time +to see Tom receive his diploma from the military +and preparatory school. Tom, black-eyed and as +handsome in his way as Helen was in hers, seemed +to have interest only in Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Goodness me! that boy’s got a regular crush +on you, Ruthie!” exclaimed Helen, exasperated. +“Did you ever see the like?” +</p> +<p> +“Dear Tom!” sighed Ruth Fielding. “He was +the very first friend—of my own age, I mean—that +I found in Cheslow when I went there. I +<em>have</em> to be good to Tommy, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“But he’s only a boy!” cried the twin sister, +feeling herself to be years older than her brother +after spending so many months at college. +</p> +<p> +“He was born the same day you were,” laughed +Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“That makes no difference. Boys are never as +wise or as old as girls——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +</p> +<p> +“Until the girls slip along too far. Then they +sometimes want to appear young instead of old,” +said the girl of the Red Mill practically. “I suppose, +in the case of girls who have not struck out +for themselves and gone 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 depending upon +any ‘mere male,’ as Miss Cullam calls them, for +our bread and butter.” +</p> +<p> +<em>“You</em> certainly can paddle your own boat,” +Helen returned admiringly, leaving the subject of +the “mere male.” “Father says you have become +a smart business woman already. He approves of +this venture you are going to make in the movies.” +</p> +<p> +But Uncle Jabez did not approve. Ruth had +written to Aunt Alvirah regarding the manner in +which she expected to spend the summer, and there +was a storm brewing when she reached the Red +Mill. +</p> +<p> +Set upon the bank of the Lumano River, the +old red mill with the sprawling, comfortable story-and-a-half +farmhouse attached, made a very pretty +picture indeed—so pretty that already one of +Ruth’s best scenarios had been filmed at the mill +and people all over the country were able to see +just how beautiful the locality was. +</p> +<p> +When Ruth got out of the automobile that had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span> +brought them all from the Cheslow 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—a dear old creature with a face +like a withered russet apple and very bright, twinkling +eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my pretty! Oh, my pretty!” Aunt Alvirah +cried. “I feared you never <em>would</em> come.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Auntie!” Ruth murmured, taking Aunt +Alvirah in her arms and leading her back to the +low rocking chair by the window where she usually +sat. +</p> +<p> +There was a rosy-cheeked country girl hovering +over the supper table, who smiled bashfully +at the college girl. Uncle Jabez, as he had promised, +had hired somebody to relieve the little old +woman of the heaviest of her housekeeping burdens. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!” groaned +Aunt Alvirah as she settled back into her chair. +“Dear child! how glad we shall be to have you at +home, if only for so short a while.” +</p> +<p> +“What does Uncle Jabez say?” whispered +Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“He don’t approve, Ruthie. You know, he +never has approved of your doing things that other +gals don’t do.” +</p> +<p> +“But, Aunt Alvirah, other girls <em>do</em> do them. +Can’t he understand that the present generation of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +girls is different from his mother’s generation?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth nodded thoughtfully. She expected a +scene with the old miller and she was not disappointed. +It came after supper—after Uncle Jabez +had retired to the sitting-room to count his day’s +receipts as usual; and likewise to count the hoard +of money he always kept in his cash-box. +</p> +<p> +Uncle Jabez Potter was of a miserly disposition. +Aunt Alvirah often proclaimed that the +coming of his grand-niece to the Red Mill had +barely saved the old man from becoming utterly +bound up in his riches. Sometimes Ruth could +scarcely see how he could have become more miserly +than he already was. +</p> +<p> +“No, Niece Ruth, I don’t approve. You +knowed I couldn’t approve of no sech doin’s as +this you’re attemptin’. It’s bad enough for a gal +to waste her money in l’arnin’ more out o’ books +than what a man knows. But to go right ahead +and do as she plumb pleases with five thousand +dollars—or what ye’ve got left of it after goin’ +off to college and sech nonsense. No——” +</p> +<p> +The miller’s feelings on the subject were too +deep for further utterance. Ruth said, firmly: +</p> +<p> +“You know, Uncle Jabez, the money was given +to me to do what I pleased with.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +</p> +<p> +“Another foolish thing,” snarled Uncle Jabez. +“That Miz Parsons had no business to give ye +five thousand dollars for gettin’ back her necklace +from the Gypsies—a gal like you!” +</p> +<p> +“But she had offered the reward to anybody +who would find it,” Ruth explained patiently. +</p> +<p> +Uncle Jabez ploughed right through this statement +and shook his head like an angry bull. “And +then the court had no business givin’ it over to +Mister Cameron to take care on’t for ye. <em>I</em> was +the proper person to be made your guardeen.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth had no reply to make to this. She knew +well enough that she would never have touched +any of the money until she was of age had Uncle +Jabez once got his hands upon it. +</p> +<p> +“The money’s airnin’ ye good int’rest in the +Cheslow bank. That’s where it oughter stay. +Wastin’ it makin’ them foolish movin’ pictuers——” +</p> +<p> +“But, Uncle!” she told him desperately; “you +know that my scenarios are earning money. See +how much money my ‘Heart of a Schoolgirl’ has +made for the building of the new dormitory at +Briarwood. And this last picture that Mr. Hammond +took here at the mill is bound to sell big.” +</p> +<p> +“Huh!” grunted the miller, not much impressed. +“Mebbe it’s all right for you to spend your spare +time writin’ them things; but it ain’t no re’l business. +Can’t tell me!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +</p> +<p> +“But it <em>is</em> a business—a great, money-making +business,” sighed Ruth. “And I am determined +to have my part in it. It is my chance, Uncle +Jabez—my chance to begin something lasting——” +</p> +<p> +“Nonsense! Nonsense!” he declared angrily. +“Ye’ll lose your money—that’s what ye’ll do. But +lemme tell you, young lady, if you do lose it, don’t +ye come back here to the Red Mill expectin’ me ter +support ye in idleness. For I won’t do it—I won’t +do it!” and he stamped away to bed. +</p> +<p> +The few days she spent at home were busy ones +for Ruth Fielding. Naturally, she and Helen had +to do some shopping. +</p> +<p> +“For even if we are bound for the wilds of Arizona, +there will be men to see us,” said the black-eyed +girl frankly. “And it is the duty of all females +to preen their feathers for the males.” +</p> +<p> +“Just so,” growled her twin. “I expect I shall +have to stand with a gun in both hands to keep +those wild cowpunchers and miners away from you +two when we reach Yucca. I remember how it +was at Silver Ranch—and you were only kids +then.” +</p> +<p> +“‘Kids,’ forsooth!” cried his sister. “When +will you ever learn to have respect for us, Tommy? +Remember we are college girls.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! you aren’t likely to let anybody forget that +fact,” grumbled Tom, who felt a bit chagrined to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span> +think that his sister and her chum had arrived at +college a year ahead of him. He would enter +Harvard in the fall. +</p> +<p> +During this busy week, Ruth spent as much time +as possible with Aunt Alvirah, for the little old +woman showed that she longed for “her pretty’s” +company. Uncle Jabez went about with a thundercloud +upon his face and disapproval in his +every act and word. +</p> +<p> +Before Saturday a telegram came from Ann +Hicks. She had arrived at Silver Ranch, conferred +with Uncle Bill, and it was agreed that she +should meet Ruth and the other girls at Yucca on +the date Ruth had named in her letter. The addition +of Ann to the party from the East would +make it nine strong, including Miss Cullam as +chaperon and Tom Cameron as “courier.” +</p> +<p> +Tom was to make all the traveling arrangements, +and he went on to New York a day before +Ruth and Helen started from Cheslow. There he +had a small experience which afterward proved to +be important. At the time it puzzled him a good +deal. +</p> +<p> +It had been agreed that the party bound for +Arizona should meet at the Delorphion Hotel. +Therefore, Tom took a taxicab at the Grand Central +Terminal for that hostelry. Mr. Cameron +had engaged rooms for the whole party by telephone, +for he was well known at the Delorphion, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +and all Tom had to do was to hand the clerk at +the desk his card and sign his name with a flourish +on the register. +</p> +<p> +The instant he turned away from the desk to +follow the bellhop Tom noted a young man, after +a penetrating glance at him, slide along to the register, +twirl it around again, and examine the line +he, Tom, had written there. The young fellow +was a stranger to Tom. He was dressed like a +chauffeur. Tom was sure he had never seen the +young man before. +</p> +<p> +“Now, wouldn’t that bother you?” he muttered, +eyeing the fellow sharply as he crossed the +marble-floored rotunda to the elevators. “Does +he think he knows me? Or is he looking for somebody +and is putting every new arrival through the +third degree?” +</p> +<p> +He half expected the chauffeur person to follow +him to the elevator, and he lingered behind the impatient +bellhop for half a minute to give the +stranger a chance to accost him if he wished to. +</p> +<p> +But immediately after the fellow had read +Tom’s name on the book, he turned away and +went out, without vouchsafing him another glance. +</p> +<p> +“Funny,” thought Tom Cameron. “Wonder +what it means.” +</p> +<p> +However, as nothing more came of it—at least, +not at once—he buried the mystery under the manifold +duties of the day. He met a couple of school +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +friends at noon and went to lunch with them; but +he returned to the hotel for dinner. +</p> +<p> +It was then he spied the same chauffeur again. +He was helping a young lady out of a private car +before the hotel entrance and a porter was going +in ahead with two big traveling bags. +</p> +<p> +Tom was sure it was the same man who had examined +the hotel register after he had signed his +name; and he was tempted to stop and speak to +him. But the young lady whisked into the hotel +without his seeing her face, while the chauffeur, +after a curious, straight stare at Tom, jumped into +the car and started away. Tom noticed that there +was a monogram upon the motor-car door, but he +did not notice the license number. +</p> +<p> +“Maybe the girl is one of those going with us,” +Tom thought, as he went inside. +</p> +<p> +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 arrived +and was informed to the contrary. +</p> +<p> +“Well, it gets me,” ruminated Tom, as he went +up to dress for dinner. “I don’t know whether I +am the subject of a strange young lady’s attentions, +or merely if the chauffeur was curious about +me. Guess I won’t say anything to the girls about +it. Helen would surely give me the laugh.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span><a name='chV' id='chV'></a>CHAPTER V—THE GIRL IN LOWER FIVE</h2> +<p> +Tom and his father had visited his sister and +Ruth at Ardmore; the young fellow was no +stranger to the girls whom Ruth had invited to +join the party bound for Freezeout Camp. Of +course, Jennie Stone knew Helen’s black-eyed twin +from old times when they were children. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me, how you’ve grown, Tommy!” observed +the plump girl, looking Tom over with approval. +</p> +<p> +“For the first time since I’ve known you, Jennie, +I cannot return the compliment,” Tom said +seriously. +</p> +<p> +“Gee!” sighed the erstwhile fat girl, ecstatically, +“am I not glad!” +</p> +<p> +That next day all arrived. Ruth and Helen +were the last, they reaching the hotel just before +bedtime. But Tom was forever wandering +through the foyer and parlors to spy a certain hat +and figure that he was sure he should know again. +He was tempted to tell Helen and her chums about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span> +the chauffeur and the strange young lady while +they were all enjoying a late supper. +</p> +<p> +“However, a man alone, with such a number of +girls, has to be mighty careful,” so Tom told himself, +“that they don’t get something on him. +They’d rig me to death, and I guess Tommy had +better keep his tongue between his teeth.” +</p> +<p> +The train on which the party had obtained reservations +left the Pennsylvania Station at ten +o’clock in the forenoon. Half an hour before that +time Tom came down to the hotel entrance ahead +of the girls and instructed the starter to bespeak +two taxicabs. +</p> +<p> +As Tom stepped out of the wide open door he +saw the motor-car with the monogram on the door, +the same chauffeur driving, and the girl with the +“stunning” hat in the tonneau. The car was just +moving away from the door and it was but a fleeting +glimpse Tom obtained of it and its occupants. +They did not even glance at him. +</p> +<p> +“Guess I was fooling myself after all,” he muttered. +“At any rate, I fancy they aren’t so greatly +interested. They’re not following us, that’s sure.” +</p> +<p> +The girls came hurrying down, with Miss Cullam +in tow, all carrying their hand baggage. +Trunks had gone on ahead, although Ruth had +warned them all that, once off the train at Yucca, +only the most necessary articles of apparel could +be packed into the mountain range. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +</p> +<p> +“Remember, we are dependent upon burros for +the transportation of our luggage; and there are +only just about so many of the cunning little things +in all Arizona. We can’t transport too large a +wardrobe.” +</p> +<p> +“Are the burros as cunning as they say they +are?” asked Trix Davenport. +</p> +<p> +“All of that,” said Tom. “And great singers.” +</p> +<p> +“Sing? Now you are spoofing!” declared the +coxswain of Ardmore’s freshman eight. +</p> +<p> +“All right. You wait and see. You know what +they call ’em out there? Mountain canaries. +Wait till you hear a love-lorn burro singing to his +mate. Oh, my!” +</p> +<p> +“The idea!” ejaculated Miss Cullam. “What +does the boy mean by ‘love-lorn’?” +</p> +<p> +It was a hilarious party that alighted from the +taxicabs in the station and made its way to the +proper part of the trainshed. The sleeping car +was a luxurious one, and when the train pulled out +and dived into the tunnel under the Hudson (“just +like a woodchuck into its hole,” Trix said) they +were comfortably established in their seats. +</p> +<p> +Tom had secured three full sections for the +girls. Miss Cullam had Lower Two while Tom +himself had Upper Five. There was some slight +discussion over this latter section, for the berth +under Tom had been reserved for a lady. +</p> +<p> +“Well, that’s all right,” said Tom philosophically. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +“If she can stand it, <em>I</em> can. Let the conductor +fight it out with her.” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps she will want you to sleep out on the +observation platform, Tommy,” said Jennie Stone, +wickedly. “To be gallant you’d do it, of course?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course,” said Tom, stoutly. “Far be it +from me to add to the burden on the mind of any +female person. It strikes me that they are mostly +in trouble about something all the time.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, oh!” cried Helen. “Villain! Is that the +way I’ve brought you up?” +</p> +<p> +Tom grinned at his sister wickedly. “Somehow +your hand must have slipped when you were +molding me, Sis. What d’you think?” +</p> +<p> +When the time came to retire, however, there +was no objection made by the lady who had reserved +Lower Five. Of course, in these sleeping +cars the upper and lower berths were so arranged +that they were entirely separate. But in the +morning Tom chanced to be coming from his +berth just as the lady started down the corridor +for the dressing room. +</p> +<p> +“My!” thought Tom. “That’s some pretty +girl. Who——” +</p> +<p> +Then he caught a glimpse of her face, just as +she turned it hastily from him. He had seen it +once before—just as a certain motor-car was +drawing away from the front of the Delorphion +Hotel. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +</p> +<p> +“No use talking,” he thought. “I’ve got to +take somebody into my confidence about this girl. +To keep such a mystery to myself is likely to affect +my brain. Humph! I’ll tell Ruth. She can +keep a secret—if she wants to,” and he went off +whistling to the men’s lavatory at the other end +of the car. +</p> +<p> +Later he found Ruth on the observation platform. +They were alone there for some time and +Tom took her into his confidence. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t tell Helen, now,” he urged. “She’ll +only rig me. And I’m bound to have a bad enough +time with all you girls, as it is.” +</p> +<p> +“Poor boy,” Ruth said, commiseratingly. +“You <em>are</em> in for a bad time, aren’t you? What +about this strange and mysterious female in Lower +Five?” +</p> +<p> +But as he related the details of the mystery, +about the chauffeur and all, Ruth grew rather +grave. +</p> +<p> +“As we go through to the dining car for breakfast +let us see if we can establish her identity,” +she told him. “Never mind saying anything to +the other girls about it. Just point her out to +me.” +</p> +<p> +“Say! I’m not likely to spread the matter +broadcast,” retorted Tom. “Only I <em>am</em> curious.” +</p> +<p> +So was Ruth. But she bided her time and +sharply scrutinized every female figure she saw +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +in the cars as they trooped through to breakfast. +She waited for Tom to point out this “mysterious +lady;” but the girl of Lower Five did not appear. +</p> +<p> +The train was rushing across the prairies in +mid-forenoon when Tom came suddenly to Ruth +and gave her a look that she knew meant “Follow +me.” When she got up Jennie drawled: +</p> +<p> +“Now, see here, Ruthie! What’s going on between +that perfectly splendid brother of Cameron’s +and you? Are you trying to make the +rest of us girls jealous?” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps,” Ruth replied, smiling, then hurried +with her chum’s brother into the next car. +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” exclaimed Ruth suddenly, and she +stopped by the door. +</p> +<p> +“Know her?” asked Tom, with curiosity. +</p> +<p> +Ruth nodded and hastily turned away so that +the girl might not see that she was observed. +</p> +<p> +“Well, now!” cried Tom. “Tip me off. Explain—elucidate—make +clear. I’m as puzzled as +I can be.” +</p> +<p> +“So am I, Tommy,” Ruth told him. “I haven’t +the least idea <em>why</em> that girl should be interested +in our affairs. And I’m not sure that she <em>is</em>.” +</p> +<p> +“Who is she?” he demanded. +</p> +<p> +“She goes to college with us. Not in our +class, you understand. I am sure none of our +party had an idea Edie Phelps was going West +this vacation.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +</p> +<p> +“Huh!” said Tom suspiciously. “What’s up +your sleeve, Ruth?” +</p> +<p> +“My arm!” she cried, and ran back to the other +girls and Miss Cullam, laughing at him. +</p> +<p> +Edith’s presence on this train was puzzling. +</p> +<p> +“That was a man’s handwriting on the envelope +Helen and I picked up addressed to Edith,” +Ruth told herself. “Some man has been writing +to her from that Mohave County town. Who? +And what for?” +</p> +<p> +“Not that it is really any of my business,” she +concluded. +</p> +<p> +She did not take Helen into her confidence in +the matter. Let the other girls see Edith Phelps +if they chanced to; she determined to stir up no +“hurrah” over the sophomore. +</p> +<p> +Besides, it was not at all sure that Edith was +going to Arizona. Her presence upon this train +did not prove that her journey West had any connection +with the letter Edith had received from +Yucca. +</p> +<p> +“Why so serious, honey?” asked Helen a little +later, pinching her chum’s arm. +</p> +<p> +“This is a serious world, my dear,” quoth +Ruth, “and we are growing older every minute.” +</p> +<p> +“What novel ideas you do have,” gibed her +chum, big-eyed. But she shook her a little, too. +“There you go, Ruthie Fielding! Always having +some secret from your owniest own chum.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +</p> +<p> +“How do you know I have a secret?” smiled +Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Because of the two little lines that grow deeper +in your forehead when you are puzzled or troubled,” +Helen told her, rather wickedly. “Sure +sign you’ll be married twice, honey.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t suggest such horrid possibilities,” +gasped the girl of the Red Mill in mock horror. +“Married twice, indeed! And I thought we had +both given up all intention of being wedded even +the <em>first</em> time?” +</p> +<p> +This chaff was all right to throw in Helen’s +eyes; but all the time Ruth expected one of the +party to discover the presence of Edith Phelps +on the train. She felt that with such discovery +there would come an explosion of some kind; +and she shrank from having any trouble with the +sophomore. +</p> +<p> +Of course, with Miss Cullam present, Edith +was not likely to display her spleen quite so +openly as she sometimes did when alone with the +other Ardmore girls. But Ruth knew Helen +would be so curious to know what Edith’s presence +meant that “the fat would all be in the fire.” +</p> +<p> +It was really amazing that Edith was not discovered +before they reached Chicago. After +that her reservation was in another car. Then on +the fifth night of their journey came something +that quite put the sophomore out of Ruth Fielding’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span> +mind, and out of Tom Cameron’s as well. +</p> +<p> +They had changed trains and were on the +trans-continental line when the startling incident +happened. The porter had already begun arranging +the berths when the train suddenly came to +a jarring stop. +</p> +<p> +“What is the matter?” asked Miss Cullam of +the porter. She already had her hair in “curlers” +and was longing for bed. +</p> +<p> +“I done s’pect we broke in two, Ma’am,” said +the darkey, rolling his eyes. “Das’ jes’ wot it +seems to me,” and he darted out of the car. +</p> +<p> +There was a long wait; then some confusion +arose outside the train. Tom came in from the +rear. “Here’s a pretty kettle of fish,” he said. +</p> +<p> +“What is it, Tommy?” demanded his sister. +</p> +<p> +“The train broke in two and the front end got +over a bridge here, and, being on a down grade, +the engineer could not bring his engine to a stop +at once. And now the bridge is afire. Come on +out, girls. You might as well see the show.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span><a name='chVI' id='chVI'></a>CHAPTER VI—SOMEBODY AHEAD OF THEM</h2> +<p> +Even Miss Cullam—in her dressing gown—trailed +out of the car after Tom. The sky was +alight from the blazing bridge. It was a wooden +structure, and burned like a pine knot. +</p> +<p> +Beyond the rolling cloud of smoke they could +see dimly the lamps of the forward half of the +train. The coupling having broken between two +Pullmans, the engine had attached to it only the +baggage and mail coaches, the dining car and one +sleeping car. +</p> +<p> +The other Pullmans and the observation coach +were stalled on the east side of the river. +</p> +<p> +“And no more chance of getting over to-night +than there is of flying,” a brakeman confided to +Tom and the girls. “That bridge will be a charred +wreck before midnight.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, goodness me! What <em>shall</em> we do?” was +the cry. “Can’t we get over in boats?” +</p> +<p> +“Where will you get the boats?” sniffed Miss +Cullam. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span> +</p> +<p> +“And the water’s low in the river at this season,” +said the brakeman. “Couldn’t use anything +but a skiff.” +</p> +<p> +“What then?” Tom asked, feeling responsibility +roweling him. “We’re not destined to remain +here till they rebuild the bridge, I hope?” +</p> +<p> +“The conductor is wiring back for another engine. +We’ll pull back to Janesburg and from there +take the cross-over line and go on by the Northern +Route. It will put us back fully twelve hours, +I reckon.” +</p> +<p> +“Good-<em>night!</em>” exploded Tom. +</p> +<p> +“Why, what does it matter?” asked Helen, +wonderingly. “We have all the time there is, +haven’t we?” +</p> +<p> +“Presumably,” Miss Cullam said drily. +</p> +<p> +“But I telegraphed ahead to Yucca for rooms +at the hotel,” Tom explained, slowly, “and sent +a long message to that guide Mr. Hammond told +you about, Ruth.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” cried Helen, giggling. “Flapjack +Peters—such a romantic name. Mr. Hammond +wrote Ruth that he was a ‘character.’” +</p> +<p> +“‘H. J. Peters,’” Tom read, from his memorandum. +“Yes. I told him just when we would +arrive and told him that after one night’s sleep +at the hotel we’d want to be on our way. But if +we don’t get there——” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Tom, there’s Ann, too!” Ruth exclaimed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +“She will be at Yucca too early if we are delayed +so.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll send some more telegrams when we get +to Janesburg,” Tom promised Ruth and his sister. +“One to Ann Hicks, too.” +</p> +<p> +“Those people in the forward Pullman will get +through on time,” Jennie Stone said. “I’m always +losing something. ‘’Twas ever thus, since +childhood’s hour, my fondest hopes I’ve seen decay,’ +and so forth!” +</p> +<p> +Tom whispered to Ruth: “That sophomore +from Ardmore will get ahead of us. She’s in the +forward Pullman.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Edith!” murmured Ruth. “She was in +that car, wasn’t she?” +</p> +<p> +They were all in bed, as were the other tourists +in the delayed Pullmans, before the extra locomotive +the conductor had sent for arrived. It +was coupled to the stalled half of the train and +started back for Janesburg without one of the +party bound for Yucca being the wiser. +</p> +<p> +Tom Cameron meant to send the supplementary +telegrams from that junction as he had said. Indeed, +he had written out several—one to his father +to relieve any anxiety in the merchant’s mind +should he hear of the accident to their train; one +to the guide, Peters; one to Ann Hicks to supplement +the one already awaiting her at Yucca; +and a fourth to the hotel. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +</p> +<p> +But as he wished to put these messages on the +wire himself, Tom did not entrust them to the +negro porter. Instead he lay down in his berth +with only his shoes removed—and he awoke in +the morning with the sun flooding the opposite +side of the car where the porter had already +folded up the berths! +</p> +<p> +“Good gracious, Agnes!” gasped Tom, appearing +in the corridor with his shoes in his hand. +“What time is it? Eight-thirty? Is my watch +right?” +</p> +<p> +“Ah reckon so, boss,” grinned the porter. +“‘Most ev’rybody’s up an’ dressin’.” +</p> +<p> +“And I wanted to send those telegrams from +Janesburg.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh Lawsy-massy! Janesburg’s a good ways +behint us, boss,” said the porter. “Ef yo’ wants +to send ’em pertic’lar from dere, yo’ll have to wait +till our trip East, Ah reckon.” +</p> +<p> +Tom did not feel much like laughing. In fact, +he felt a good deal of annoyance. He made some +further enquiries and discovered that it would be +an hour yet before the train would linger long +enough at any station for him to file telegrams. +</p> +<p> +They spent one more night “sleeping on +shelves,” as Jennie Stone expressed it, than they +had counted upon. Miss Cullam went to her +berth with a groan. +</p> +<p> +“Believe me, my dears,” she announced, “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +shall welcome even a saddle as a relief from these +cars. You are all nice girls, if I do say it, who +perhaps shouldn’t. I flatter myself I have had +something to do with molding your more or less +plastic minds and dispositions. But I must love +you a great deal to ever attempt another such +long journey as this for you or with you.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Miss Cullam!” cried Trix Davenport, +“we will erect a statue to you on Bliss Island—right +near the Stone Face. And on it shall be +engraved: ‘Nor granite is more enduring than +Miss Cullam.’” +</p> +<p> +“I wonder,” murmured the teacher, “if that is +complimentary or otherwise?” +</p> +<p> +But they all loved her. Miss Cullam developed +very human qualities indeed, take her away +from mathematics! +</p> +<p> +The party was held up for two hours at Kingman, +waiting for a local train to steam on with +them to their destination. And there Tom learned +something which rather troubled him. +</p> +<p> +Telegrams were never received direct at Yucca. +The railroad business was done by telephone, and +all the messages sent to Yucca were telephoned +through to the station agent—if that individual +chanced to be on hand. Otherwise they were entrusted +to the rural mail carrier. One could almost +count the inhabitants of Yucca on one’s fingers +and toes! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +</p> +<p> +“Jiminy!” gasped Tom, when he learned these +particulars. “I bet I’ve made a mess of it.” +</p> +<p> +He tried to find out at the Kingman station what +had become of the final messages he had sent. +The operator on duty when they arrived was now +off duty, and he lived out of town. +</p> +<p> +“If they were mailed, son,” observed the man +then at the telegraph table, “you will get to Yucca +about two hours before the mail gets there. +Here comes your train now.” +</p> +<p> +Had the girls not been so gaily engaged in chattering, +they must have noticed Tom’s solemn face. +He was disturbed, for he felt that the comfort of +the party, as well as the arrangements for the +trip into the hills, was his own particular responsibility. +</p> +<p> +It was late afternoon when the combination +local (half baggage and freight, and half passenger) +hobbled to a stop at Yucca. Besides a dusty +looking individual in a cap who served the railroad +as station agent, there was not a human being +in sight. +</p> +<p> +“What a jolly place!” cried Jennie Stone, turning +to all points of the compass to gaze. “So much +life! We’re going to have a gay time in Yucca, +I can see.” +</p> +<p> +“Sh!” begged Trix. “Don’t wake them up.” +</p> +<p> +“Awaken whom, my dear?” drawled Sally +Blanchard. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +</p> +<p> +“The dead, I think,” said Helen. “This place +must be the understudy for a graveyard.” +</p> +<p> +At that moment a gray muzzle was thrust between +the rails of a corral beside the track and +an awful screech rent the air, drowning the sound +of the locomotive whistle as the train rolled away. +</p> +<p> +“For goodness’ sake! what is that?” begged Rebecca, +quite startled. +</p> +<p> +“Mountain canary,” laughed Helen. “That is +what will arouse you at dawn—and other times—while +we are on the march to Freezeout.” +</p> +<p> +“You don’t mean to say,” demanded Trix, +“that all that sound came out of that little creature?” +And she ran over to the corral fence the +better to see the burro. +</p> +<p> +“And he didn’t need any help,” drawled Jennie. +“Oh! you’ll get used to little things like +that.” +</p> +<p> +“Never to that little thing,” said Miss Cullam, +tartly. “Can’t he be muzzled?” +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile Tom had seized upon the station +agent. He was a long, lean, “drawly” man, with +seemingly a very languid interest in life. +</p> +<p> +“What telegrams?” he drawled. +</p> +<p> +Tom explained more fully and the man referred +to a memorandum book he carried in the breast +pocket of his flannel shirt. +</p> +<p> +“Yep. Three messages received over the ’phone +from Kingman station. All delivered.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +</p> +<p> +“Good!” Tom exclaimed, with vast relief. +</p> +<p> +“Four days ago,” added the station agent. +</p> +<p> +That was a dash of cold water. “Didn’t you +receive other telegrams in the same way yesterday?” +</p> +<p> +“Not a one.” +</p> +<p> +“Where have they gone, then?” +</p> +<p> +“I wouldn’t be here ’twixt eight and ‘leven. +They’d come over the wire to Kingman, and the +op’rator there would mail ’em. Mail man’s due +any time now.” +</p> +<p> +“Well,” groaned Tom, “let’s go up to the hotel +and see if they’ve reserved the rooms for us, if +we are late.” +</p> +<p> +“And where’s Jane Ann Hicks?” queried Ruth, +in some puzzlement. “<em>She</em> ought to be here to +greet us.” +</p> +<p> +“What about that guide—the Flapjack person?” +added Helen. “Didn’t you telegraph him, +Tommy?” +</p> +<p> +“Who d’you mean—Flapjack Peters?” asked +the station agent, interested. “Why, he lit out +for some place in the Hualapai this forenoon, +beauin’ a party of these here tourists—or, so I +heard tell.” +</p> +<p> +There were blank faces among the newly arrived +visitors from the East. But only Tom Cameron +really felt disturbed. It looked to him as +though somebody had got ahead of them! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span><a name='chVII' id='chVII'></a>CHAPTER VII—A MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR</h2> +<p> +“You needn’t be ‘fraid of not findin’ room at +Lon Crujes’ hotel,” drawled the station agent. +“He don’t often have more’n two visitors at a +time there, and them’s mostly travelin’ salesmen. +Only when somebody’s shippin’ cattle. And there +ain’t no cattlemen here now.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, that is some relief, at least,” Helen said +promptly. “Come on, Tommy! Lead the procession. +Take Miss Cullam’s bag, too. The rest +of us will carry our own.” +</p> +<p> +“How can we get the trunks up to the hotel?” +asked Ruth, beginning to realize that Tom, to +whom she had left all the arrangements, was in a +“pickle.” +</p> +<p> +“Let’s see what the hotel looks like first,” returned +Helen’s twin, setting off along the dusty +street. +</p> +<p> +A dog barked at the procession; but otherwise +the inhabitants of Yucca showed a disposition to +remain incurious. It was not necessary to ask +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +the way to Lon Crujes’ hotel; it was the only building +in town large enough to be dignified by the +name of “Yucca House.” +</p> +<p> +A Mexican woman in a one-piece garment gathered +about her waist by a man’s belt from which +an empty gun-sheath dangled, met the party on +the porch of the house. She seemed surprised to +see them. +</p> +<p> +“You ain’t them folks that telegraphed Lon +you was comin’, are you?” she asked. “Don’t that +beat all!” +</p> +<p> +“I telegraphed ahead for rooms—yes,” Tom +said. +</p> +<p> +“Well, the rooms is here all right—by goodness, +yes!” she said, still staring. Such an array +of feminine finery as the girls displayed had probably +never dawned upon Mrs. Crujes’ vision before. +“Nobody ain’t run off with the rooms. We +ain’t never crowded none in this hotel, ‘cept in +beef shippin’ time.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, how about meals?” Tom asked quietly. +</p> +<p> +“If Lon gets home with a side of beef he went +for, we’ll be all right,” the woman said. “You +kin all come in, I reckon. But say! who was them +gals here yesterday, then, if ’twasn’t you.” +</p> +<p> +“What girls?” asked Ruth, who remained with +Tom to inquire. +</p> +<p> +“Have they gone away again?” demanded +Tom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +</p> +<p> +“By goodness, yes! Two gals. One was tenderfoot +all right; but ‘tother knowed her way +’round, I sh’d say.” +</p> +<p> +“Ann?” queried Ruth of Tom. +</p> +<p> +“Must have been. But the other—Say, Mrs. +Crujes, tell us about them, will you, please?” he +asked the Mexican woman. +</p> +<p> +“Why, this tenderfoot gal dropped off the trans-continental. +Jest the train we expected you folks +on. I s’pose you was the folks we expected?” +</p> +<p> +“That’s right. We’re the ones,” said Tom, +hastily. “Go on.” +</p> +<p> +“The other lady, <em>she</em> come later. She’s Western +all right.” +</p> +<p> +“Ann is from Montana,” Ruth said, deeply interested. +</p> +<p> +“So she said. I reckoned she never met up +with the Eastern gal before, did she?” +</p> +<p> +“But who is the girl you speak of—the one from +the East?” gasped Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Huh! Don’t you know her neither?” +</p> +<p> +“I’m not sure I couldn’t guess,” Ruth declared. +Tom kept his lips tightly closed. +</p> +<p> +“They made friends, then,” explained the woman. +“The gal you say you know, and the tenderfoot. +And they went off together this morning +with Flapjack——” +</p> +<p> +“Not with our guide?” cried Ruth. “Oh, Tom! +what can it mean?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span> +</p> +<p> +“Got me,” grunted the young fellow. +</p> +<p> +“Why! it is the most mysterious affair,” Ruth +repeated. “I can’t understand it.” +</p> +<p> +“Leave it to me,” said Tom, quickly. “You +go in with the other girls and primp.” +</p> +<p> +“Primp, indeed!” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose you’ll have to here, just the same +as anywhere else,” the boy said, with a quick grin. +“I’ll look around and see what’s happened. Of +course, that Flapjack person can’t have gone far.” +</p> +<p> +“And Ann wouldn’t have run away from us, +I’m sure,” Ruth sent back over her shoulder as +she entered the hotel. +</p> +<p> +Before the Mexican woman could waddle after +Ruth, Tom hailed her again. “Say!” he asked, +“where can I find this Peters chap?” +</p> +<p> +“The Señor Flapjack?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. Fine name, that,” he added in an undertone. +</p> +<p> +“He it is who is famous at making the American +flapjack—<em>si si!</em>” said the woman. “But he +is gone I tell you. I know not where. Maybe +Lon, he can tell you when he come back with +the beef—by goodness, yes!” +</p> +<p> +“But he lives here in town, doesn’t he? Hasn’t +he a family?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, sure! He’s got Min.” +</p> +<p> +“Who’s Min? A Chinaman?” +</p> +<p> +“Chink? Can you beat it?” ejaculated the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span> +woman, grinning broadly. “Min’s his daughter. +See that house down there with the front painted +yellow?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” admitted Tom, rather abashed. +</p> +<p> +“That’s where Flapjack, he live. Sure! And +Min can tell you where he’s gone and how long +he’ll be away.” +</p> +<p> +The hotel proprietor’s wife disappeared, bustling +away to attend to the wants of this party +of guests that was apt to swamp her entire menage. +Tom hesitated about searching out the +guide’s daughter alone. “Min” promised embarrassing +possibilities to his mind. +</p> +<p> +“Jiminy! we’re up against it, I believe,” he +thought. “They’ll all blame me, I suppose. I +ought not to have gone to sleep night before last +and missed sending those last telegrams from +Janesburg. +</p> +<p> +“Father will say I wasn’t ‘tending to business +properly. I wonder what I’d better do.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth suddenly reappeared. She had merely +gone inside to get rid of her bag and assure Miss +Cullam that there were some matters she and +Tom had to attend to. Now she approached her +chum’s brother with a question that excited and +startled him. +</p> +<p> +“What under the sun could have made her act +so, do you suppose, Tom?” +</p> +<p> +“Huh? Who?” he gasped. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +</p> +<p> +“That girl. She’s gone off with our guide and +all.” +</p> +<p> +“Who do you mean? Jane Ann Hicks?” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness! I don’t understand Ann’s part in +it, either. But she’s not the leading spirit, it is +evident.” +</p> +<p> +“Who do you mean, then?” Tom demanded. +</p> +<p> +“Edith Phelps. Of course it is she. She arrived +here on the trans-continental train on time. +Tommy, she was in correspondence with somebody +here in Yucca. Helen and I saw the envelope. +And it puzzled us. Her being on the train +puzzled me more. And now——” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Jiminy!” ejaculated Tom Cameron. “The +mystery deepens. Rival picture company, maybe, +Ruth. How about it?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t think it’s <em>that</em>,” said Ruth Fielding, +reflectively. “I am sure Edie Phelps has no connection +with movie people—no, indeed!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span><a name='chVIII' id='chVIII'></a>CHAPTER VIII—MIN</h2> +<p> +“Well, let’s go along and see Flapjack’s +daughter,” Tom proposed. “I don’t want to +make the acquaintance of any strange girl without +somebody to defend me,” and he grinned at +the girl of the Red Mill. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes. We know just how desperately timid +you are, Tommy-boy,” she told him, smiling. “I +will be your shield and buckler. Lead on.” +</p> +<p> +The house had a yellow front, but was elsewhere +left bare of paint. It stood away from its +neighbors and, as Ruth and Tom Cameron approached +it, it seemed deserted. From other +houses they were frankly watched by slatternly +women and several idle men. +</p> +<p> +Tom rapped gently at the front door. There +was no reply and after repeating the summons +several times Ruth suggested that they try a rear +entrance. +</p> +<p> +“Huh!” complained the boy. “This Min they +tell of must be deaf.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +</p> +<p> +“Or bashful. Perhaps she is nothing but a +child and is afraid of us.” +</p> +<p> +Tom merely grunted in reply, and led the way +into a weed-grown yard. The fence was of wire +and laths—the kind bought by the roll ready to +set up; but it was very much dilapidated. The +fence had never been finished at the rear and +up on a scrubby side hill behind the house a man +was wielding an axe. +</p> +<p> +“Maybe he knows something about this Flapjack +Peters person,” grumbled Tom. +</p> +<p> +“Knock on the back door,” ordered Ruth Fielding +briskly. “If that guide has a daughter she +must know where he’s gone, and for how long. +It’s the most mysterious thing!” +</p> +<p> +“It gets me,” admitted Tom, knocking again. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Hammond said that he knew this guide +and that he believed he was a fairly trustworthy +person. He is what they call an ‘old-timer’—been +living here or hereabout for years and years. Just +the person to find Freezeout Camp.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, there must be other men who know their +way about the hills,” and Tom turned his back +to the door to look straight away across the valley +toward the faint, blue eminences that marked +the Hualapai Range. +</p> +<p> +“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” sighed Ruth, likewise +looking at the mountains. “How clear the air is! +See that peak away to the north? We saw it from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +the car window. That is the tallest mountain +in the range—Hualapai Peak. Oh, Tom!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes?” he asked. +</p> +<p> +“That man looks awfully funny to me. Do +you see——?” +</p> +<p> +Tom wheeled to look at the person chopping +wood a few rods away. The woodchopper wore +an old felt hat; from underneath its brim flowed +several straggly locks of black hair. +</p> +<p> +“Must be an Indian,” muttered Tom. +</p> +<p> +“It must be a woman!” exclaimed Ruth. “It +is a woman, Tom! I’m going to ask her——” +</p> +<p> +“What?” demanded the youth; but he trailed +along behind the self-reliant girl of the Red Mill. +</p> +<p> +The woodchopper did not even raise her head +as the two young folks approached. She beat +upon the log she was splitting with the old axe +and showed not the least interest in their presence. +</p> +<p> +Ruth led the way around in front of her and +demanded: +</p> +<p> +“Do you know where Mr. Peters’ daughter is? +We had business with him, and they tell us he is +away from home.” +</p> +<p> +At that the woman in men’s shabby habiliments +raised her head and looked at them. +</p> +<p> +“Jiminy!” exploded Tom, but under his breath. +“It is a girl!” +</p> +<p> +Ruth was quite as curious as her companion; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span> +but she was wise enough to reveal nothing in her +own countenance but polite interest. +</p> +<p> +The masquerader was both young and pretty; +only the perspiration had poured down her face +and left it grimy. Her hands were red and rough—calloused +as a laboring man’s and with blunted +fingers and broken nails. +</p> +<p> +When she stood up straight, however, even the +overalls and jumper she wore, and the broken old +hat upon her head, could not hide the fact that +she was of a graceful figure. +</p> +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” said Ruth again. “Can +you tell me where Miss Peters is?” +</p> +<p> +“I can tell you where <em>Min</em> Peters is, if you +want to know so bad,” drawled the girl, red suffusing +her bronzed cheeks and a little flash coming +into her big gray eyes. +</p> +<p> +“That—that must be the person we wish to +see.” +</p> +<p> +“Then see her,” snapped the other ungraciously. +“An’ I s’pose you fancy folks think her a +sight, sure ’nuff.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean <em>you</em> are Mr. Peters’ daughter?” +Ruth asked, doubtfully. +</p> +<p> +“I’m Flapjack’s girl,” the other said, biting her +remarks off short. +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” cried Ruth. “Then you can tell us all +about it.” +</p> +<p> +“All about what?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +</p> +<p> +“How it happens that your father is not here +at Yucca to meet us?” +</p> +<p> +“Huh! What would he want to meet you for?” +asked the girl, shaking back her straggly hair. +</p> +<p> +“Why, it was arranged by Mr. Hammond that +Mr. Peters should guide us into the Range. We +are going to Freezeout Camp.” +</p> +<p> +“Wha-at?” drawled Min Peters in evident surprise. +“You, too?” +</p> +<p> +Tom here put in a word. “I am the one who +telegraphed to Mr. Peters when we were on the +way here. It was understood through Mr. Hammond +that Mr. Peters was to hold himself in +readiness for our party.” +</p> +<p> +“Then what about them other girls?” demanded +the girl, with sudden vigor. “They done fooled +pop, did they?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t understand what you mean by ‘those +other girls,’” Ruth hastened to say. +</p> +<p> +“Why, pop’s already started for the hills. I +I dunno whether he’s goin’ to Freezeout or not. +There ain’t nobody at that old camp, nohow. +Dunno what you want to go there for.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth waived that matter to say, eagerly: +</p> +<p> +“How many girls are there in this party your +father has gone off with?” +</p> +<p> +“Two. He ‘spected more I reckon, for there’s +a bunch of ponies down in Jeb’s corral. But the +girl that bossed the thing said you-all had backed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +out. It looked right funny to <em>me</em>—two girls goin’ +off there into the hills. And she was a tenderfoot +all right.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean the girl who ‘bossed’ the affair?” +asked Tom, curiously. +</p> +<p> +“Yep. The other girl seemed jest driftin’ along +with her. <em>She</em> knowed how to ride, and she +brought her own saddle and rope with her. But +that there tenderfoot started off sidesaddle, like +a missioner.” +</p> +<p> +“A ‘missioner?’” repeated Ruth, curiously. +</p> +<p> +“These here women that sometimes come here +teachin’ an’ preachin’. They most all of ’em ride +sidesaddle. Many of ’em on a burro at that. +’Cause a burro don’t never git out of a walk if +he kin help it. But I’ve purty near broke my neck +teachin’ four or five of the ponies to stand for a +sidesaddle—poor critters. I rid ’em with a +blanket wrapped ’round me to git ’em used to a +skirt flappin’,” and she spoke in some amusement. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” Ruth said, more briskly, “I don’t exactly +understand those girls going without us. +One of them I am sure is our friend. The girl +who evidently engaged your father is not a +stranger to us; but she was not of our party.” +</p> +<p> +“What in tarnation takes you ‘way into them +mountains to Freezeout?” demanded Min Peters. +“There ain’t a sign of color left there, so pop +says; and he’s prospected all through the range +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +on that far side. Why, he remembers Freezeout +when it was a real camp. And I kin tell you +there ain’t much left of it now.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” cried Ruth. “Have you seen it?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure. I been all through the Range with pop. +He didn’t have nobody to leave me with when +I was little. I ain’t never had no chance like +other girls,” said Min, in no very pleasant tone. +“Why I ain’t scurcely human, I reckon!” +</p> +<p> +At that Ruth laughed frankly at her. “What +nonsense!” she cried. “You are just as human +and just as much of a girl as any of us. As I +am. Your clothes don’t even hide the fact that +you are a girl. But I suppose you wear them because +you can work easier in men’s garments?” +</p> +<p> +“And that’s where you s’pose mighty wrong,” +snapped Min. +</p> +<p> +“No?” +</p> +<p> +“I wear these old duds ’cause I ain’t got no +others to wear. That’s why.” +</p> +<p> +She said it in an angry tone, and the red flowed +into her cheeks again and her gray eyes flashed. +</p> +<p> +“I never <em>did</em> have nothin’ like other girls. Pop +bought me overalls to wear when I was jest a +kid; and that’s about all he ever did buy me. He +thinks they air good enough. I haf to work like +a boy; so why not dress like a boy? Huh?” +</p> +<p> +Tom had moved away. Somehow he felt a +delicacy about listening to this frank avowal of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +the strange girl’s trials. But Ruth was sympathetic +and she seized Min’s unwilling hand. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my dear!” she cried under her breath. +“I am sorry. Can’t you work and earn money +to clothe yourself properly?” +</p> +<p> +“What’ll I do? The cattlemen won’t hire me, +though I kin rope and hog-tie as well as any +puncher they got. But they say a girl would make +trouble for ’em. Nobody around here ever has +money enough to hire a girl to do anything. I +don’t know nothing about cookin’ or housework—‘cept +to make flapjacks. I kin do camp cookin’ +as good as pop; only I don’t use two griddles at +a time same’s he does. But huntin’ parties won’t +hire me. It sure is tough luck bein’ a girl.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my dear!” cried Ruth again. “I don’t +believe that. There must be some way of improving +your condition.” +</p> +<p> +“You show me how to earn some money, then,” +cried Min. “I’ll dress as fancy as any of you. +Oh! I was watchin’ you girls troop up from the +train. And that other girl that went off with pop +this mornin’. <em>She</em> gimme a look, now I tell you. +I’d like to beat her up, I would!” +</p> +<p> +Ruth passed over this remark in silence. She +was thinking. “Wait a moment, Min,” she +begged, “I must speak to Mr. Cameron,” and +she led Tom aside. +</p> +<p> +“Now, Tommy, we’ve just got to get to Freezeout Camp +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span> +some way. We don’t want to wait +here a week or more for the movie company to +arrive. Mr. Hammond expects me to have the +first part of the scenario ready for the director +when he gets on the ground. And I <em>must</em> see +the old camp just as it is.” +</p> +<p> +“I’d like to know what that Edith Phelps has +got to do with it—and why Ann Hicks went off +with her,” growled Tom. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear! Don’t you suppose I am just as +curious as you are?” Ruth demanded. “But <em>that</em> +doesn’t get us anywhere.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, what will get us to Freezeout?” he +asked. +</p> +<p> +“Getting started, first of all,” laughed Ruth. +“And we can do it. This girl can guide us just +as well as her father could. We can get a man +or a boy to look after the ponies and the packtrain. +A ‘wrangler’ don’t they call them on the +ranch?” +</p> +<p> +“The girl looks capable enough,” admitted +Tom. “But what will your Miss Cullam say to +her?” +</p> +<p> +Ruth giggled. “Poor Miss Cullam is doomed +to get several shocks, I am afraid, before the +trip is over.” +</p> +<p> +“All right. You’re the doctor,” Tom said, +grinning. “Looks to me like some lark. This +Min Peters is certainly a caution!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span><a name='chIX' id='chIX'></a>CHAPTER IX—IN THE SADDLE AT LAST</h2> +<p> +“The matter can be arranged in one, two, +three order!” Ruth cried. +</p> +<p> +She had already seen just the way to go about +it. Give Min Peters the chance to make money +and she would jump at it. +</p> +<p> +“You see, <em>we</em> don’t mind having a girl for cook +and guide. We will rather like it,” she said, +laughing into Min’s delighted face. “Poor old +Tom is our only male companion. And unless +we find a man to take care of the horses and burros +he’ll have to put on overalls himself and do +that work.” +</p> +<p> +“That’ll be all right. I can get a Mexican boy—a +good one,” Min said quickly. “The hosses +is all in Jeb’s corral and you can hire of him. +I tell you pop expected a big crowd of you and +he was disappointed.” +</p> +<p> +“You will make the money he would have +made,” Ruth told her cheerfully. “We will pay +you man’s wages and we shall want you at least +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +a month. Eighty dollars and ‘found.’ How is +that?” +</p> +<p> +“Looks like heaven,” said Min bluntly. “I +ain’t never seen so much money in my life!” +</p> +<p> +“And the Mexican boy?” +</p> +<p> +“Pedro Morales. Twenty-two fifty is all he’ll +expect. We don’t pay Greasers like we do white +men in this country,” said the girl with some bruskness. +“But, say, Miss——” +</p> +<p> +“I am Ruth Fielding.” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Fielding, then. You’re the boss of this +outfit?” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose so. I shall pay the bills at any +rate. Until Mr. Hammond and the moving picture +people arrive.” +</p> +<p> +“Well! what will them other girls say to me—dressed +this here way?” +</p> +<p> +“If you had plenty of dresses and were starting +into the range for a trip like this, you’d put +on these same clothes, wouldn’t you?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, sure.” +</p> +<p> +“All right then. You’re hired to do a man’s +work, so I presume a man’s clothing will the better +become you while you are so engaged,” said +Ruth, smiling at her frankly. +</p> +<p> +“All right. Though they’ve got some calico +dresses at the store. I could buy one and wear +it—that is, if you’d advance me that much money. +But I got a catalog from a Chicago store—— Gee! it’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +full of the purtiest dresses. I <em>dreamed</em> +about gettin’ hold of some money some time and +buyin’ one o’ them—everything to go with it. But +to tell you honest, when pop gits any loose change, +he spends it for red liquor.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll see that you have the money you are going +to earn, for yourself,” Ruth assured her. “Now +tell Mr. Cameron just what to buy. He will do +the purchasing at the store. And introduce him +to the Mexican boy, Pedro, too. I’ll run to tell +the other girls how lucky we are to get you to +help us, Min.” +</p> +<p> +She hurried away, in reality to prepare her +friends for the appearance of the girl who had +never worn proper feminine habiliments. She +knew that Min would not put up with any giggling +on the part of the “tenderfoot” girls. As for +Miss Cullam, that good woman said: +</p> +<p> +“I’m sure I can stand overalls on a girl as well +as I can stand these divided skirts and bloomers +that some of you are going to wear.” +</p> +<p> +“Just think of a girl never having worn a pretty +frock!” gasped Helen. “Isn’t that outrageous!” +</p> +<p> +“The poor thing,” said Rebecca. “But she +must be awfully coarse and rough.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t let her see that you think so, Rebecca,” +commanded Ruth quickly. “She has keener perceptions +than the average, believe me! We must +not hurt her feelings.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +</p> +<p> +“Trust <em>you</em> not to hurt anybody’s feelings, +Ruthie,” drawled Jennie Stone. “But I might find +a dress in my trunk that will fit her.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, girls! let’s dress her up—let’s give her +enough of our own finery out of the trunks to +make her feel like a real girl.” This from Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Not now,” Ruth said quickly. “She would not +thank you. She is an independent thing—you’ll +see. Let her earn her new clothes—and get acquainted +with us.” +</p> +<p> +“Ruth possesses the ‘wisdom of serpents,’” +Miss Cullam said, smiling. “Are the trunks going +to remain here all the time we are absent in the +hills?” +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Hammond is going to have several wagons +to transport his goods to Freezeout; and if +there is room he will bring along our trunks too. +By that time we shall probably be glad to get into +something besides our riding habits.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Cullam sighed. “I can see that this +roughing it is going to be a much more serious +matter than I thought.” +</p> +<p> +However, they all looked eagerly forward to +the start into the hills. The hotelkeeper returned +with his horse-load of beef, and he was able to give +Ruth and Miss Cullam certain information regarding +the two girls who had departed with +Flapjack Peters on the trail to Freezeout. +</p> +<p> +“What can Edith Phelps mean by such actions?” the Ardmore +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +teacher demanded in private +of Ruth. “You should have told me about that +letter and Edith’s presence on the train. I should +have gone to her and asked her what it meant.” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps that would have been well,” Ruth +admitted. “But, dear Miss Cullam! how was +I to know that Edith was coming here to Yucca?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. I presume that the blame can be attached +to nobody in particular. But how could +Edith Phelps have gained the confidence of your +friend, Miss Hicks?” +</p> +<p> +“That certainly puzzles me. Edith made all +the arrangements with Min’s father, so Min says. +Ann Hicks must have been misled in some way.” +</p> +<p> +“It looks very strange to me,” observed Miss +Cullam. “I have my suspicions of Edith Phelps, +and always have had. There! you see that we +instructors at college cannot help being biased in +our opinions of the girls.” +</p> +<p> +“Dear me, Miss Cullam!” laughed Ruth. +“Isn’t that merely human nature? It is not alone +the nature of members of the college faculty.” +</p> +<p> +The hotel was a very plainly furnished place; +but the girls and Miss Cullam managed to spend +the night comfortably. At eight o’clock in the +morning Tom and a half-grown Mexican boy were +at the hotel door with a cavalcade of ten ponies +and four burros. +</p> +<p> +Tom had learned the diamond hitch while he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +was at Silver Ranch and he helped fasten the +necessary baggage upon the four little gray beasts. +Each rider was obliged to pack a blanket-roll and +certain personal articles. But the bulk of the provisions, +and a small shelter tent for Miss Cullam, +were distributed among the pack animals. +</p> +<p> +The Briarwood girls and Trix Davenport rode +in men’s saddles; as did Min Peters; but Sally +Blanchard and Rebecca and Miss Cullam had insisted +upon sidesaddles. +</p> +<p> +“And the mildest mannered pony in the lot, +please,” the teacher said to Tom. “I am just as +afraid of the little beasts as I can be. Ugh!” +</p> +<p> +“And they are so cunning!” drawled Jennie. +She stepped quickly aside to escape the teeth of her +own mount, who apparently considered the possibility +of eating her so as not to bear her weight. +</p> +<p> +“And can you blame him?” demanded Helen. +“It would look better if you shouldered the pony +instead of riding on his back.” +</p> +<p> +“Is that so? Just for that I’ll bear down as +heavily as I can on him,” declared Jennie. “I’m +not going to let any little cowpony nibble at me!” +</p> +<p> +The party started away from Yucca with Min +Peters ahead and Pedro bringing up the rear with +his burros. Although the ponies could travel at +a much faster pace than the pack animals, the +latter at their steady pace would overtake the cavalcade +of riders before the day was done. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span> +</p> +<p> +The road they struck into after leaving town +was a pretty good wagon trail and the riding was +easy. There was an occasional ranch-house at +which the occupants showed considerable interest +in the tourists. But before noon they had ridden +into the foothills and Min told them that thereafter +dwellings would be few and far between. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ceptin’ where there’s a town. There are +some regular gold washin’s we pass. Hydraulic +minin’, you know. But they are all on this side +of the Range. Nothin’ doin’ on t’other side. All +the pay streaks petered out years an’ years ago. +Even a Chink couldn’t make a day’s wages at them +old diggin’s like Freezeout.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, we are not gold hunting,” laughed Ruth. +“We are going to mine for a better output—moving +pictures.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ve heard tell of them,” said Min, curiously. +“There was a feller worked for the Lazy C that +went to California and worked for them picture +fellers. He got three dollars a day and his pony’s +keep an’ says he never worked so hard in his life. +That is, when the sun shone; and it most never +does rain in that part o’ California, he says.” +</p> +<p> +The prospect of camping out of doors, even +in this warm and beautiful weather, was what +most troubled Miss Cullam and some of the girls. +</p> +<p> +“With the sky for a canopy!” sighed Sally +Blanchard. “Suppose there are wolves?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +</p> +<p> +“There are coyotes,” Helen explained. “But +they only howl at you.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s enough I should hope,” Rebecca Frayne +said. “Can’t we keep on to the next house and +hire beds?” +</p> +<p> +This was along toward supper time and the +burros were in sight and the sun was going down. +</p> +<p> +“The nearest ranch is Littell’s,” explained Min +Peters. “And it’s most thirty mile ahead. We +couldn’t make it.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course it will be <em>fun</em> to camp out, Rebecca,” +declared Ruth cheerfully. “Wait and see.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m likely to know more about it by morning,” +admitted Rebecca. “I only hope the experience +will not be too awful.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth and her chum, as well as Jennie and Tom, +laughed at the girl. They expected nothing unusual +to happen. However—— +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span><a name='chX' id='chX'></a>CHAPTER X—THE STAMPEDE</h2> +<p> +Their guide was fully as capable as a man, +and proved it when it came to making camp. Her +selection of the camping site could not have been +bettered; she wielded an axe as well as a man in +cutting brush for bedding and wood for the fires. +</p> +<p> +As soon as Pedro and the burros arrived, Min +proceeded to get supper for the party with a skill +and celerity that reminded him, so Tom said, of +one of those jugglers in vaudeville that keep half +a dozen articles in the air at a time. +</p> +<p> +Min broiled bacon, made coffee, mixed and +baked biscuits on a board before the coals, and +finally made the popular flapjacks in unending +number—and attended to all these things without +assistance. +</p> +<p> +“Pop can beat me at flapjacks. Them’s his long +suit,” declared the girl guide. “Wait till you see +him toss ’em—a pan in each hand.” +</p> +<p> +Min’s viands could only be praised, and the +party made a hearty supper. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +</p> +<p> +As dusk mantled them about, Tom suddenly +saw a spark of light out across the plain to the +south. +</p> +<p> +“What’s yonder?” he asked. “I thought you +said there was no house near here, Miss Peters?” +</p> +<p> +“Gee! if you don’t stop calling me <em>that</em>,” gasped +their guide, “I certainly will go crazy. I ain’t used +to it. But that ain’t a house.” +</p> +<p> +“What is it, then?” asked the abashed Tom. +</p> +<p> +“One of the Lazy C outfits I reckon. Didn’t +you see the cattle grazin’ yonder when we come +over that last ridge?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my! a regular herd of cattle such as you +read about?” demanded Sally Blanchard. “And +real cowboys with them?” +</p> +<p> +“I s’pect they think they’re real enough,” replied +Min, dryly. “Punchin’ steers ain’t no cinch, +lemme tell you.” +</p> +<p> +“Doesn’t she talk queerly?” said Rebecca, in +a whisper. “She really doesn’t seem to be a very +proper person.” +</p> +<p> +“My goodness!” gasped Jennie Stone, choked +with laughter at this. “What do you expect of +a girl who’s lived in the mines all her life? Polite, +Back-Bay English and all the refinements of +the Hub?” +</p> +<p> +“No-o,” admitted Rebecca. “But, after all, +refined people are ever so much nicer than rude +people. Don’t you find it so yourself, Jennie?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well, I s’pose that’s so,” admitted the plump +girl. “For a steady diet. Just the same, if you +judged it by its husk, you’d never know how sweet +the meat of a chestnut is.” +</p> +<p> +The campfire at the chuckwagon of the herding +outfit was several miles away; and later in the +evening it died down and the glow of it disappeared. +</p> +<p> +The girls were tired enough to seek repose +early. Min, Tom and the Mexican boy had agreed +to divide the night into three watches. Otherwise +Rebecca declared she would be afraid even to close +her eyes—and then her regular breathing announced +that sleep had overtaken her within sixty +seconds of her lying down! +</p> +<p> +Min chose the first watch and Ruth was not +sleepy. During the turns before midnight the +girl from the East and the girl who had lived a +boy’s life in the mining country became very well +acquainted indeed. +</p> +<p> +There had not been any “lucky strikes” in this +region since Min could remember. But now and +then new veins of gold were discovered on old +claims; or other metals had been discovered where +the early miners had looked only for gold. +</p> +<p> +“And pop’s an old-timer,” sighed Min. “He’ll +never be any good for anything but prospectin’. +Once it gets into a man, I reckon there ain’t no +way of his ever gettin’ away from it. Pop’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +panned for gold in three States; he’ll jest die a +prospector and nothin’ more.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s good of you to have stuck to him since +you grew big,” said Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“What else could I do?” demanded the Western +girl. “Of course he loves me in his way; +and when he goes on his sprees he’d die some +time if I wasn’t on hand to nurse him. But some +day I’m goin’ to get a bunch of money of my +own—an’ some clo’es—and I’m goin’ to light out +and leave him where he lies. Yes, ma’am!” +</p> +<p> +Ruth did not believe Min would do quite that; +and to change the subject, she asked suddenly: +</p> +<p> +“What’s that yonder? That glow over the +hill?” +</p> +<p> +“Moon. It’s going to be bright as day, too. +Them boys of the Lazy C will ride close herd.” +</p> +<p> +“Why?” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you know moonlight makes cattle right +ornery? The shadows are so black, you know. +Then, mebbe there’s something ‘bout moonlight +that affects cows. It does folks, too. Makes ’em +right crazy, I hear.” +</p> +<p> +“I have heard of people being moonstruck,” +laughed Ruth. “But that was in the tropics.” +</p> +<p> +“Howsomever,” Min declared, “it makes the +cows oneasy. See! there’s the edge of her. Like +silver, ain’t it?” +</p> +<p> +The moon flooded the whole plain with its +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +beams as it rose from behind the mountains. One +might have easily read coarse print by its light. +</p> +<p> +Every bush and shrub cast a black reflection +upon the ground. It was very still—not a breath +of air stirring. Far, far away rose the whine of +a coyote; and the girls could hear one of the +herdsmen singing as he urged his pony around +and around the cattle. +</p> +<p> +“You hear ’em pipin’ up?” said Min, smiling. +“Them boys of the Lazy C know their business. +Singin’ keeps the cows quiet—sometimes.” +</p> +<p> +Their own fire died out completely. There was +no need for it. By and by Ruth roused Tom Cameron, +for it was twelve o’clock. Then both she +and Min crept into their own blanket-nests, already +arranged. The other girls were sleeping +as peacefully as though they were in their own +beds at Ardmore College. +</p> +<p> +Tom was refreshed with sleep and had no intention +of so much as “batting an eye.” The brilliancy +of the moonlight was sufficient to keep him +awake. +</p> +<p> +Yet he got to thinking and it took something of +a jarring nature to arouse him at last. He heard +hoarse shouts and felt the earth tremble as many, +many hoofs thundered over it! +</p> +<p> +Leaping up he looked around. Bright as the +moon’s rays were he did not at first descry the +approaching danger. It could not be possible that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +the cattle had stampeded and were coming up the +valley, headed for the tourists’ camp! +</p> +<p> +Yet that is what he finally made out. He +shouted to Pedro, and finally kicked the boy awake. +Without thinking of the danger to the girls Tom +believed first of all that their ponies and burros +might be swept away with the charging steers. +</p> +<p> +“Gather up those lariats and hold the ponies!” +Tom shouted to the Mexican. “The burros won’t +go far away from the horses. Hi, Min Peters! +What do you know about this?” +</p> +<p> +Their guide had come out of her blanket wide +awake. She appreciated the peril much more +keenly than did Tom or the girls. +</p> +<p> +“A fire! We want a fire!” she shouted. “Never +mind them ponies, Pedro! You strike a light!” +</p> +<p> +Up the valley came charging the forefront of +the cattle, their wicked, long horns threatening +dire things. As the Eastern girls awoke and saw +the cattle coming, they were for the most part +paralyzed with fear. +</p> +<p> +“Fire! Start a fire!” yelled Min, again. +</p> +<p> +The thunder of the hoofs almost drowned her +voice. But Ruth Fielding suddenly realized what +the girl guide meant. The cattle would not charge +over a fire or into the light of one. +</p> +<p> +She grabbed something from under her blanket +and leaped away from Miss Cullam’s tent toward +the stampede. Tom shouted to her to come back; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +Helen groaned aloud and seized the sleepy Jennie +Stone. +</p> +<p> +“She’ll be killed!” declared Helen. +</p> +<p> +“What’s Ruth doing?” gasped the plump girl. +</p> +<p> +Then Ruth touched the trigger of the big tungsten +lamp, and the spotlight shot the herd at +about the middle of its advance wave. Snorting +and plunging steers crowded away from the dazzling +beam of light, brighter and more intense +than the moon’s rays, and so divided and passed +on either side of the tourists’ encampment. +</p> +<p> +The odor of the beasts and the dust they kicked +up almost suffocated the girls, but they were unharmed. +Nor did the ponies and burros escape +with the frightened herd. +</p> +<p> +The racing punchers passed on either side of +the camp, shouting their congratulations to the +campers. The latter, however, enjoyed little further +sleep that night. +</p> +<p> +“Such excitement!” murmured Miss Cullam, +wrapped in her blanket and sitting before the +fire that Pedro had built up again. “And I +thought you said, Ruth Fielding, that this trip +would probably be no more strenuous than a picnic +on Bliss Island?” +</p> +<p> +But Min eyed the girl of the Red Mill with +something like admiration. “Huh!” she muttered, +“some of these Eastern tenderfoots are +some good in a pinch after all.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span><a name='chXI' id='chXI'></a>CHAPTER XI—AT HANDY GULCH</h2> +<p> +Sitting around a blanket spread for a tablecloth +at sunrise and eating eggs and bacon with +more flapjacks, the incidents of the night seemed +less tangible, and certainly less perilous. +</p> +<p> +“Why, I can’t imagine those mild-eyed cows +making such a scramble by us as they did,” Trix +Davenport remarked. +</p> +<p> +“‘Mild-eyed kine’ is good—very good indeed,” +said Jennie Stone. “These long-horns are about +as mild-tempered as wolves. I can remember that +we saw some of them in tempestuous mood up +at Silver Ranch. Isn’t that so, Helen?” +</p> +<p> +“Truly,” admitted the black-eyed girl. +</p> +<p> +“I shall never care even to <em>eat</em> beef if we go +through many such experiences as that stampede,” +Miss Cullam declared. “Let us hurry away from +the vicinity of these maddened beasts.” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll be off the range to-day,” said Min dryly. +“Then there won’t be nothing to scare you tenderfoots.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +</p> +<p> +“No bears, or wolves, or panthers?” drawled +Jennie wickedly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, mercy! You don’t mean there are such +creatures in the hills?” cried Rebecca. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t reckon we’ll meet up with such,” Min +said. +</p> +<p> +“Shouldn’t we have brought guns with us?” +asked Sally timidly. +</p> +<p> +“Goodness! And shoot each other?” cried +Miss Cullam. +</p> +<p> +“Why, you didn’t say nothin’ about huntin’,” +said the guide slowly. “Pop’s got his rifle with +him. But I’m packin’ a forty-five; that’ll scare +off most anything on four laigs. And there ain’t +no two-legged critters to hurt us.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ve an automatic,” said Tom Cameron quietly. +“Didn’t know but I might have a chance to +shoot a jackrabbit or the like.” +</p> +<p> +“What for?” drawled Min, sarcastically. “We +ain’t likely to stay in one place long enough to +cook such a critter. They’re usually tougher’n all +git-out, Mister.” +</p> +<p> +“At any rate,” said Ruth, with satisfaction, +“the party is sufficiently armed. Let us not fear +bears or mountain lions.” +</p> +<p> +“Or jackrabbits,” chuckled Jennie. +</p> +<p> +“And are you <em>sure</em> there are no ill-disposed men +in the mountains?” asked the teacher. +</p> +<p> +“Men?” sniffed Min. “I ain’t ‘fraid of men, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +I hope! There ain’t nothin’ wuss than a drunken +man, and I’ve had experience enough with them.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth knew she referred to her father; but she +did not tell the other girls and Miss Cullam what +Min had confided to her the previous evening. +</p> +<p> +The trail led them into the foothills that day +and before night the rugged nature of the ground +assured even Miss Cullam that there was little +likelihood of such an unpleasant happening as had +startled them the night before. +</p> +<p> +They halted to camp for the night beside a +collection of small huts and tents that marked the +presence of a placer digging which had been found +the spring before and still showed “color.” +</p> +<p> +There were nearly a dozen flannel-shirted and +high-booted miners at this spot, and the sight of +the girls from the East had a really startling effect +upon these lonely men. There was not a +woman at the camp. +</p> +<p> +The men knocked off work for the day the +moment the tourists arrived. Every man of them, +including the Mexican water-carrier, was broadly +asmile. And they were all ready and willing to +show “the ladies from the East” how placer mining +was done. +</p> +<p> +The output of a mountain spring had been +brought down an open plank sluice into the little +glen where the vein of fine gold had been discovered; +and with the current of this stream the gold-bearing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span> +soil was “washed” in sluice-boxes. +</p> +<p> +The miners, rough but good-natured fellows, +all made a “clean up” then and there, and each +of the visitors was presented with a pinch of gold +dust, right from the riffles. +</p> +<p> +This placer mining camp was run on a community +basis, and the camp cook insisted upon getting +supper for all, and an abundant if not a delicately +prepared meal was the result. +</p> +<p> +“I’m not sure that we should allow these men +to go to so much expense and trouble,” Miss Cullam +whispered to Ruth and Min Peters. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, gee!” ejaculated the girl in boy’s clothing. +“Don’t let it worry you for a minute, Miss +Cullam. We’re a godsend to them fellers. If +they didn’t spend their money once’t in a while +they’d git too wealthy,” and she chuckled. +</p> +<p> +“That could not possibly be, when they work +so long and hard for a pinch of gold dust,” declared +the college instructor. +</p> +<p> +“They fling it away just as though it come +easy,” returned Min. “Believe me! it’s much +better for ’em to have you folks here and blow +you to their best, than it is for them to go down +to Yucca and blow it all in on red liquor.” +</p> +<p> +The miners would have gone further and given +up their cabins or their tents to the use of the +women. But even Rebecca had enjoyed sleeping +out the night before and would not be tempted. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +The air was so dry and tonic in its qualities that +the walls of a house or even of a tent seemed superfluous. +</p> +<p> +“I do miss my morning plunge or shower,” +Helen admitted. “I feel as though all this red +dust and grit had got into my skin and never +would get out again. But one can’t rough it +and keep clean, too, I suppose.” +</p> +<p> +“That water in the sluice looks lovely,” confessed +Jennie Stone. “I’d dearly like to go paddling +in it if there weren’t so many men about.” +</p> +<p> +“After all,” said Ruth, “although we are traveling +like men we don’t act as they would. Tom +slipped off by himself and behind that screen of +bushes up there on the hillside he took a bath +in the sluice. But there isn’t a girl here who +would do it.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, lawsy, I didn’t bring my bathing suit,” +drawled Jennie. “That was an oversight.” +</p> +<p> +“Old Tom does get a few things on us, doesn’t +he?” commented Helen. “Perhaps being a boy +isn’t, after all, an unmitigated evil.” +</p> +<p> +“But the water’s so co-o-ld!” shivered Trix. +“I’m sure I wouldn’t care for a plunge in this +mountain stream. Will there be heated bathrooms +at Freezeout Camp, Fielding?” +</p> +<p> +“Humph!” Miss Cullam ejaculated. “The title +of the place sounds as though steam heat would +be the fashion and tiled bathrooms plentiful!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +</p> +<p> +The third day of the journey was quite as fair +as the previous days; but the way was still more +rugged, so they did not travel so far. They +camped that night in a deep gorge, and it was +cold enough for the fires to feel grateful. Tom +and the Mexican kept two fires well supplied with +fuel all night. Once a coyote stood on a bank +above their heads and sang his song of hunger +and loneliness until, as Sally declared, she thought +she should “fly off the handle.” +</p> +<p> +“I never <em>did</em> hear such an unpleasant sound in +all my life—it beats the grinding of an ungreased +wagon wheel! I wish you would drive him away, +Tom.” +</p> +<p> +So Tom pulled out the automatic that he had +been “aching” to use, and sent a couple of shots +in the direction of the lank and hungry beast—who +immediately crossed the gorge and serenaded +them from the other bank! +</p> +<p> +“What’s the use of killing a perfectly useless +creature?” demanded Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“No fear,” laughed Jennie. “Tom won’t kill +it. He’s only shooting holes in the circumambient +atmosphere.” +</p> +<p> +There was a haze over the mountain tops at +dawn on the fourth day; but Min assured the girls +that it could not mean rain. “We ain’t had no +rain for so long that it’s forgotten how,” she said. +“But mebbe there’ll be a wind storm before night.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh! as long as we’re dry——” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Miss Ruth,” put in the girl guide. “We’ll +be <em>dry</em>, all right. But a wind storm here in Arizona +ain’t to be sneezed at. Sometimes it comes +right cold, too.” +</p> +<p> +“In summer?” +</p> +<p> +“Yep. It can git mighty cold in summer if it +sets out to. But we’ll try to make Handy Gulch +early and git under cover if the sand begins to +sift.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh me! oh my!” groaned Jennie. “A sand +storm? And like Helen I feel already as though +the dust was gritted into the pores of my skin.” +</p> +<p> +“It ain’t onhealthy,” Min returned dryly. +“Some o’ these old-timers live a year without seein’ +enough water to take a bath in. The sand gives +’em a sort of dry wash. It’s clean dirt.” +</p> +<p> +“Nothing like getting used to a point of view,” +whispered Sally Blanchard. “Fancy! A ‘dry +wash!’ How do <em>you</em> feel, Rebecca Frayne?” +</p> +<p> +“Just as gritty as you do,” was the prompt reply. +</p> +<p> +“All right then,” laughed Ruth. “We all must +have grit enough to hurry along and reach this +Handy Gulch before the storm bursts.” +</p> +<p> +Min told them that there was a “sure enough” +hotel at the settlement they were approaching. It +was a camp where hydraulic mining was being +conducted on a large scale. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +</p> +<p> +“The claims belong mostly to the Arepo Mining +and Smelting Company. They have several mines +through the Hualapai Range,” said the guide. +“This Handy place is quite a town. Only trouble +is, there’s two rum sellin’ places. Most of the +men’s wages go back to the company through +drink and cards, for they control the shops. But +some day Arizona is goin’ dry, and then we’ll shut +up all such joints.” +</p> +<p> +“Dry!” coughed Helen. “Could anything be +dryer than Arizona is right here and now?” +</p> +<p> +The seemingly tireless ponies carried the girls +at a lope, or a gallop, all that forenoon. It was +hard to get the eager little beasts to walk, and +they never trotted. Miss Cullam claimed that +everything inside of her had “come loose and was +rattling around like dice in a box.” +</p> +<p> +“Dear me, girls,” sighed the teacher, “if this +jumping and jouncing is really a healthful exercise, +I shall surely taste death through an accident. +But good health is something horrid to +attain—in this way.” +</p> +<p> +But in spite of the discomforts of the mode +of travel, the party hugely enjoyed the outing. +There were so many new and strange things to see, +and one always came back to the same statement: +“The air <em>is</em> lovely!” +</p> +<p> +There were certainly new things to see when +they arrived at Handy Gulch just after lunch time, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +not having stopped for that meal by the way. The +camp consisted of fully a hundred wood and sheet-iron +shacks, and the hotel was of two stories and +was quite an important looking building. +</p> +<p> +Above the town, which squatted in a narrow +valley through which a brawling and muddy +stream flowed, was the “bench” from which the +gold was being mined. There were four “guns” +in use and these washed down the raw hillside into +open sluices, the riffles of which caught the separated +gold. The girls were shown a nugget found +that very morning. It was as big as a walnut. +</p> +<p> +But most of the precious metal was found in +tiny nuggets, or in dust, a grain of which seemed +no larger than the head of a common pin. +</p> +<p> +However, although these things were interesting, +the minute the cavalcade rode up to the hotel +something much more interesting happened. +There was a cry of welcome from within and out +of the front door charged Jane Ann Hicks, +dressed much as she used to be on the ranch—broad +sombrero, a short fringed skirt over her +riding breeches, high boots with spurs, and a gun +slung at her belt. +</p> +<p> +“For the good land of love!” she demanded, +seizing Ruth Fielding as the latter tumbled off her +horse. “Where have you girls been? I was just +about riding back to that Yucca place to look for +you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +</p> +<p> +Jennie and Helen came in for a warm welcome, +too. Ann was presented to Miss Cullam and the +other two girls before explanations were made +by anybody. Then Ruth demanded of the Montana +girl a full and particular account of what +she had done, and why. +</p> +<p> +“Why, I reckon that Miss Phelps ain’t a friend +of yours, after all?” queried Ann. “She’s one +frost, if she is.” +</p> +<p> +“Now you’ve said something, Nita,” said Jennie +Stone. “She is a cold proposition. Can you +tell us what she’s doing out here?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know. She sure enough comes from +that college you girls attend, don’t she?” +</p> +<p> +“She does!” admitted Helen. “She truly does. +But she’s not a sample of what Ardmore puts forth—don’t +believe it.” +</p> +<p> +“I opine she’s not a sample of any product, except +orneriness,” scolded Ann, who was a good +deal put out by the strange actions of Edith +Phelps. “You see how it was. My train was +late. According to the telegram I found waiting +for me, you folks should have arrived at Yucca +hours ahead of me.” +</p> +<p> +“And we were delayed,” sighed Ruth. “Go +on.” +</p> +<p> +“I saw this Phelps girl,” pursued Ann Hicks, +“and asked her about you folks. She said you’d +been and gone.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” was the chorused exclamation from the +other girls. +</p> +<p> +“And <em>she</em> is one of my pupils!” groaned Miss +Cullam. +</p> +<p> +“She didn’t learn to tell whoppers at your college, +I guess,” said Ann, bluntly. “Anyhow, she +fooled me nicely. She said she was going over this +very route you had taken and I could come along. +She wouldn’t let me pay any of the expenses—not +even tip the guide. Only for my pony.” +</p> +<p> +“But where is she now?” asked Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“And where is that Flapjack person—Min’s +father?” cried Jennie. +</p> +<p> +“We got here last night and put up at this +hotel,” Ann said, going steadily on with her story +and not to be drawn away on any side issues. “We +got here last night. Late in the evening somebody +came to see this Phelps girl—a man.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” exclaimed Rebecca. “And she is +traveling without a chaperon!” +</p> +<p> +“‘Chaperon’—huh!” ejaculated Ann. “She +didn’t need any chaperon. She can take care of +herself all right. Well, she didn’t come back and +I went to bed. This morning I found a bit of +paper on my pillow—here ’tis——” +</p> +<p> +“That’s Edie’s handwriting,” Sally Blanchard +said eagerly. “What does it say?” +</p> +<p> +“‘Good-bye. I am not going any farther with +you. Wait, and your friends may overtake you.’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +Just that,” said Ann, with disgust. “Can you beat +it?” +</p> +<p> +“What has that wild girl done, do you suppose?” +murmured Miss Cullam. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, she isn’t wild—not so’s you’d notice it,” +said Ann. “Believe me, she knows her way about. +And she shipped that guide.” +</p> +<p> +“Discharged Mr. Peters, do you mean?” Ruth +asked. Min was not in the room while this conversation +was going on. +</p> +<p> +“H’m. Yes. <em>Mister</em> Peters. He’s some sour +dough, I should say! He was paid off and set +down with money in his fist between two saloons. +They’re across the street from each other, and +they tell me he’s been swinging from one bar to +the other like a pendulum ever since he was paid +off.” +</p> +<p> +“Poor Min!” sighed Ruth Fielding. +</p> +<p> +“Huh?” said Ann Hicks. “If he’s got any +folks, <em>I’m</em> sorry for ’em, too.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span><a name='chXII' id='chXII'></a>CHAPTER XII—MIN SHOWS HER METTLE</h2> +<p> +There were means to be obtained at the Handy +Gulch Hotel for the baths that the tourists so +much desired, even if tiled bathrooms and hot +and cold water faucets were not in evidence. +</p> +<p> +The party lunched after making fresh toilets, +and then set forth to view the “sights.” Ruth inquired +of Tom for Min; but their guide had disappeared +the moment the party reached the hotel. +</p> +<p> +“She’s acquainted here, I presume,” said Tom +Cameron. “Maybe she doesn’t wish to be seen +with you girls. Her outfit is so very different from +yours.” +</p> +<p> +“Poor Min!” murmured Ruth again. “Do you +suppose she has found her father?” +</p> +<p> +Tom could not tell her that, and they trailed +along behind the others, up toward the bench +where the hydraulic mining was going on. +</p> +<p> +Only one of the nozzles was being worked—shooting +a solid stream three inches in diameter +into the hillside, and shaving off great slices that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +melted and ran in a creamlike paste down into +the sluice-boxes. Half a hundred “muckers” were +at work with pick and shovel below the bench. +The man managing the hydraulic machine stood +astride of it, in hip boots and slicker, and guided +the spouting stream of water along the face of the +raw hill. +</p> +<p> +The party of spectators stood well out of the +way, for the work of hydraulic mining has attached +to it no little danger. The force of the +stream from the nozzle of the machine is tremendous; +and sometimes there are accidents, when +many tons of the hillside unexpectedly cave down +upon the bench. +</p> +<p> +The man astride the nozzle, however, took the +matter coolly enough. He was smoking a short +pipe and plowed along the face of the rubble with +his deadly stream as easily as though he were +watering a lawn. +</p> +<p> +“And if he should shoot it this way,” said Tom, +“he’d wash us down off the bench as though we +were pebbles.” +</p> +<p> +“Ugh! Let’s not talk about that,” murmured +Rebecca Frayne, shivering. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, girls!” burst out Helen, “see that man, +will you?” +</p> +<p> +“What man?” asked Trix. +</p> +<p> +“<em>Where</em> man?” demanded Jennie Stone. +</p> +<p> +“Running this way. Why! what can have happened?” Helen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +pursued. “Look, Tom, has there +been an accident?” +</p> +<p> +A hatless man came running from the far end +of the bench. He was swinging his arms and his +mouth was wide open, though they could not hear +what he was shouting. The noise of the spurting +water and falling rubble drowned most other +sounds. +</p> +<p> +“Why, girls,” shouted Ann Hicks, and her voice +rose above the noise of the hydraulic, “that’s the +feller that guided us up here. That’s Peters!” +</p> +<p> +“Flapjack Peters?” repeated Tom. “The man +acts as if he were crazy!” +</p> +<p> +The bewhiskered and roughly dressed man gave +evidence of exactly the misfortune Tom mentioned. +His eyes blazed, his manner was distraught, +and he came on along the bench in great +leaps, shouting unintelligibly. +</p> +<p> +“He is intoxicated. Let us go away,” Miss Cullam +said promptly. +</p> +<p> +But the excitement of the moment held the +girls spellbound, and Miss Cullam herself merely +stepped back a pace. A crowd of men were chasing +the irrepressible Peters. Their shouts warned +the fellow at the nozzle of the hydraulic machine. +</p> +<p> +He turned to look over his shoulder, the stream +of water still plowing down the wall of gravel and +soil. It bored directly into the hillside and down +fell a huge lump, four or five tons of debris. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +</p> +<p> +“Git back out o’ here, ye crazy loon!” yelled +the man, shifting the nozzle and bringing down +another pile of rubble. +</p> +<p> +But Peters plunged on and in a moment had the +other by the shoulders. With insane strength he +tore the miner away from the machine and flung +him a dozen feet. The stream of water shifted +to the right as the hydraulic machine slewed +around. +</p> +<p> +“Come away! Come away from that, Pop!” +shrieked a voice, and the amazed Eastern girls +saw Min Peters darting along the bench toward +the scene. +</p> +<p> +Peters sprang astride the nozzle and shifted it +quickly back and forth so that the water spread +in all directions. He knew how to handle the +machine; the peril lay in what he might decide to +do with it. +</p> +<p> +“Come away from that, Pop!” shrieked Min +again. +</p> +<p> +But her father flirted the stream around, threatening +the girl and those who followed her. The +men stopped. They knew what would happen if +that solid stream of water collided with a human +body! +</p> +<p> +“D’you hear me, Pop?” again cried the fearless +girl. “You git off that pipe and let Bob have it.” +</p> +<p> +Bob, the pipeman, was just getting to his feet—wrathful +and muddy. But he did not attempt to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span> +charge Peters. The latter again swept the stream +along the hillside in a wide arc, bringing tons upon +tons of gravel and soil down upon the bench. The +narrow plateau was becoming choked with it. +There was danger of his burying the hydraulic +machine, as well as himself, in an avalanche. +</p> +<p> +The tourist party was in peril, too. They +scarcely understood this at the moment, for things +were transpiring so quickly that only seconds had +elapsed since first Peters had approached. +</p> +<p> +The miners dared not come closer. But Min +showed no fear. She plunged in and caught him +around the body, trying to confine his arms so +that he could not slew the nozzle to either side. +</p> +<p> +This helped the situation but little. For half +a minute the stream shot straight into the hillside; +then another great lump fell. +</p> +<p> +At the same moment Peters threw her off, and +Min went rolling over and over in the mud as +Bob had gone. But she was up again in a moment +and made another spring for the man. +</p> +<p> +And then suddenly, quite as unexpectedly as the +riot had started, it was all over. The hurtling, +hissing stream of water fell to a wabbling, futile +out-pouring; then to a feeble dribble from the +pipe’s nozzle. The water had been shut off below. +</p> +<p> +The miners pyramided upon him, and in half +a minute Flapjack Peters was “spread-eagled” on +the muddy bench, held by a dozen brawny arms. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +</p> +<p> +“Wait! wait!” cried Ruth, running forward. +“Don’t hurt him. Take care——” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t hurt him, Miss?” growled Bob, the +man who had been flung aside. “We ought to nigh +about knock the daylights out o’ him. Look what +he done to me.” +</p> +<p> +“But you mustn’t! He’s not responsible,” Ruth +Fielding urged. +</p> +<p> +The miners dragged Peters to his feet and there +was blood on his face. Here is where Min showed +the mettle that was in her again. She sprang in +among the angry miners to her father’s side. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t none of you forgit he’s my pop,” she +threatened in a tone that held the girls who listened +spellbound and amazed. +</p> +<p> +“You ain’t got no call to beat him up. You +know he can’t stand red liquor; yet some of you +helped him drink of it las’ night. Ain’t that the +truth?” +</p> +<p> +Bob was the first to admit her statement. “I +s’pose you’re right, Min. We done drunk with +him.” +</p> +<p> +“Sure! You helped him waste his money. +Then, when he goes loco like he always does, +you’re for beatin’ of him up. My lawsy! if there’s +anything on top o’ this here airth more ornery than +that I ain’t never seen it.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span><a name='chXIII' id='chXIII'></a>CHAPTER XIII—AN URSINE HOLDUP</h2> +<p> +Peters was still struggling with his captors and +talking wildly. He evidently did not know his +own daughter. +</p> +<p> +“Well, what you goin’ to do with him?” demanded +Bob, the pipeman. “We ain’t expected +to stand and hold him all day, if we ain’t goin’ to +be ’lowed to hang him—the ornery critter!” +</p> +<p> +“You shet up, Bob Davis!” said Min. “You +ain’t no pulin’ infant yourself when you’re drunk, +and you know it.” +</p> +<p> +The other men began laughing at the angry +miner, and Bob admitted: +</p> +<p> +“Well, s’posin’ that’s so? I’m sober now. And +I got work to do. So’s these other fellows. What +you want done with Flapjack?” +</p> +<p> +Ruth Fielding was so deeply interested for +Min’s sake that she could not help interfering. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Min, isn’t there a doctor in this camp?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes’m. Doc Quibbly. He’s here, ain’t he, +boys?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +</p> +<p> +“The old doc’s down to his office in the tin +shack beyant the hotel,” said one. “I seen him +not an hour ago.” +</p> +<p> +“Let’s take your father to the hotel, Min,” +Ruth said. “These men will help us, I know. So +will Tom Cameron. We will have the doctor look +after your father.” +</p> +<p> +“The old doc can dope him a-plenty, I reckon,” +said Bob. +</p> +<p> +“Sure we’ll help you,” said the rough fellows, +who were not really hard-hearted after all. +</p> +<p> +“I dunno’s they’ll let him into the hotel,” Min +said. +</p> +<p> +“Yes they will. We’ll pay for his room and you +and the doctor can look out for him,” Ruth declared. +</p> +<p> +“You are good and helpful, Ruth Fielding,” +said Miss Cullam, coming forward, much as she +despised the condition of the man, Peters. “How +terrible! But one must be sorry for that poor +girl.” +</p> +<p> +“And Min has pluck all right!” cried Jennie +Stone, admiringly. “We must help her.” +</p> +<p> +They were all agreed in this. Even Rebecca +and Miss Cullam, who both shrank from the +coarseness of the men and the roughness of Min +and her father, commiserated the man’s misfortune +and were sorry for Min’s strait. +</p> +<p> +Tom assisted in leading the wildly-talking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +Peters to the hotel. Ruth and Miss Cullam hurried +on in advance to engage a room for the man +whom they assured the proprietor was really ill. +Min, meanwhile, went in search of the camp’s +medical practitioner. +</p> +<p> +Dr. Quibbly was a gray-bearded man with keen +eyes but palsied hands. He had plainly been +wrecked by misfortune or some disease; but he +had been left with all his mental powers unimpaired. +</p> +<p> +He took hold of the distraught Peters in a +capable manner; and Tom, who remained to help +nurse the patient, declared to Ruth and Helen +that he never hoped to see a doctor who knew his +business better than Dr. Quibbly knew it. +</p> +<p> +“He had Peters quiet in half an hour. No +harmful drug, either. Told me everything he +used. Says rest, and milk and eggs to build up +the stomach, is all the chap needs. Min’s with +him now and I’m going to sleep in my blanket outside +the door to-night, so if she needs anybody +I’ll be within call.” +</p> +<p> +It had been rather an exciting experience for +the girls and they remained in their rooms for the +rest of the day. The hotel proprietor offered to +take them around at night and “show them the +sights”; but as that meant visiting the two saloons +and gambling halls, Miss Cullam refused for the +party, rather tartly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +</p> +<p> +“No offence meant, Ma’am,” said the hotel +man, Mr. Bennett. “But most of the tenderfeet +that come here hanker to ‘go slumming,’ as they +call it. They want to see these here miners at +their amusements, as well as at their daily occupations.” +</p> +<p> +“I’d rather see them at church,” Miss Cullam +told him frankly. “I think they need it.” +</p> +<p> +“Good glory, Ma’am!” exclaimed the man. +“We git that, too—once a month. What more kin +you expect?” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose,” Miss Cullam said to her girls, +“that a perfectly straight-laced New England +old maid could not be set down in a more inappropriate +place than a mining camp.” +</p> +<p> +The speech gave Ruth a suggestion for a scene +in the picture play of “The Forty-Niners,” and +she would have been delighted to have the Ardmore +teacher play a part in that scene. +</p> +<p> +“However,” she said to Helen, whispering it +over in bed that night, “it will be funny. I know +Mr. Hammond will bring plenty of costumes of +the period of forty-nine, for he wants women in +the show. And there will be some character actress +who can take the part of an unsophisticated +blue stocking from the Hub, who arrives at the +camp in the midst of the miner’s revelry.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my!” gasped Helen. “Miss Cullam will +think you are making fun of her.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +</p> +<p> +“No she won’t——the dear thing! She has +too much good sense. But she <em>has</em> given me what +Tom would call a dandy idea.” +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t it nice to have Tom—or somebody—to +lay our use of slang to?” said Ruth’s chum demurely. +</p> +<p> +The party did not leave Handy Gulch the next +day, nor the day following. There were several +excuses given for this delay and they were all +good. +</p> +<p> +One of the ponies had developed lameness; and +a burro wandered away and Pedro had to spend +half a day searching for him. Perhaps the Mexican +lad would have been quicker about this had +Min been on hand to hurry him. But having been +close beside her father all night she lay down for +needed sleep while Tom Cameron and the doctor +took her place. +</p> +<p> +The report from the sickroom was favorable. +In a few hours the man who had come so near to +bringing about a tragedy in Handy Gulch would +be fit to travel. Ruth declared that she would +wait for him, and he should go along with the +party to Freezeout. +</p> +<p> +“But you are our guide and general factotum, +Min. We depend on you,” she told the sick man’s +daughter. +</p> +<p> +“I dunno what that thing is you called me; but +I guess it ain’t a bad name,” said Min Peters. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +“If you’ll jest let pop trail along so’s I kin watch +him he’ll be as good as pie, I know.” +</p> +<p> +Then, there was Miss Cullam’s reason for not +wishing to start. She said she was “saddle sick.” +</p> +<p> +“I have been seasick, and trainsick; but I think +saddlesick must be the worst, for it lasts longer. +I can lie in bed now,” said the poor woman, “and +feel myself wabbling just as I do in that hateful +saddle. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear, me, Ruthie Fielding! I wish I had +never agreed to come without demanding a comfortable +carriage.” +</p> +<p> +“They tell me that there are places on the trail +before we get to Freezeout so narrow that a carriage +can’t be used. The wagons are going miles +and miles around so as to escape the rough places +of the straighter trail.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” exclaimed Miss Cullam in disgust. +“Is it necessary to get to Freezeout Camp +in such a short time? I tell you right now: I am +going to rest in bed for two days.” +</p> +<p> +And she did. The girls were not worried, however. +They found plenty to see and to do about +the mining town. As for Ruth, she set to work on +her scenario, and kept Rebecca Frayne busy with +the typewriter, too. She sketched out the scene +she had mentioned to Helen, and it was so funny +that Rebecca giggled all the time she was typewriting +it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” murmured Ruth. “I hope the +audiences will think it is as funny as you do. The +only trouble is, unless a good deal of the conversation +is thrown on the screen, they will miss +some of the best points. Dear me! Such is fate. +I was born to be a humorist—a real humorist—in +a day and age when ‘custard-pie comedians’ +have the right-of-way.” +</p> +<p> +The third day the party started bright and early +on the Freezeout trail. Flapjack Peters was well +enough to ride; and he was woefully sorry for +what he had done. But he was still too much +“twisted” in his mind to be able to tell Ruth just +how he came to start away from Yucca with Edith +Phelps and Ann Hicks, instead of waiting for the +entire party to arrive. +</p> +<p> +Ann had told all she knew about it at her meeting +with Ruth. It remained a mystery why Edith +had come to Yucca; why she had kept Ann and +her friends apart; and why at Handy Gulch she +had abandoned both Ann and Flapjack Peters. +</p> +<p> +“She met a man here, that’s all I know,” said +Ann, with disgust. +</p> +<p> +“Maybe it was the man who wrote her from +Yucca,” said Helen to Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“‘Box twenty-four, R. F. D., Yucca, Arizona,’” +murmured Ruth. “We should have made +inquiries in Yucca about the person who has his +mail come to that postbox.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +</p> +<p> +“These hindsights that should have been foresights +are the limit!” groaned Helen. “We must +admit that Edie Phelps has put one over on us. +But what it is she has done <em>I</em> do not comprehend.” +</p> +<p> +“That is what bothers me,” Ruth said, shaking +her head. +</p> +<p> +They set off on this day from the Gulch in a +spirit of cheerfulness, and ready for any adventure. +However, none of the party—not a soul of +it—really expected what did happen before the +end of the day. +</p> +<p> +As usual the pony cavalcade got ahead of the +burros in the forenoon. The little animals would +go only so fast no matter what was done to them. +</p> +<p> +“You could put a stick of dynamite under one +o’ them critters,” Min said, “and he’d rise slow-like. +‘Hurry up’ ain’t knowed to the burros’ language—believe +me!” +</p> +<p> +The pony cavalcade was halted most surprisingly +about noon, and in a way which bid fair to +delay the party until the burros caught up, if not +longer. They had got well into the hills. The +cliffs rose on either hand to towering heights. +Thick and scrubby woods masked the sides of the +gorge through which they rode. +</p> +<p> +“It is as wild as one could imagine,” said Miss +Cullam, riding with Tom in the lead. “What do +you suppose is the matter with my pony, Mr. Cameron?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +</p> +<p> +Tom had begun to be puzzled about his own +mount—a wise old, flea-bitten gray. The ponies +had pricked their ears forward and were snuffing +the air as though there was some unpleasant odor +assailing their nostrils. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know just what is the matter,” Tom +confessed. “But these creatures can see and smell +a lot that <em>we</em> can’t, Miss Cullam. Perhaps we +had better halt and——” +</p> +<p> +He got no further. They were just rounding +an elbow in the trail. There before them, rising +up on their haunches in the path, were three gray +and black bears! +</p> +<p> +“Ow-yow!” shrieked Jennie Stone. “Do you +girls see the same things <em>I</em> do?” +</p> +<p> +To those ahead, however, it seemed no matter +for laughter. The bears—evidently a female with +two cubs—were too close for fun-making. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span><a name='chXIV' id='chXIV'></a>CHAPTER XIV—AT FREEZEOUT CAMP</h2> +<p> +There is nothing really savage looking about +a bear unless it <em>is</em> savage. Otherwise a bear has a +rather silly looking countenance. These three +bears had been walking peacefully down the trail, +and were surprised at the sudden appearance of +the cavalcade of ponies from around the bend, for +such wind as was stirring was blowing down the +trail. +</p> +<p> +The larger bear, the mother of the two half-grown +cubs, instantly realized the danger of their +position. It may have looked like an ursine +hold-up to the tourists; but old Mother Bear was +quite sure she and her cubs were in man-peril. +</p> +<p> +She growled fiercely, cuffing her cubs right and +left and sending them scuttling and whining off +into the bushes. She roared at the startled pony +riders and did not descend from her haunches. +</p> +<p> +She looked terrible enough then. Her teeth, +fully displayed, promised to tear and rend both +ponies and riders if they came near enough. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +</p> +<p> +Miss Cullam was speechless with fright. The +ponies had halted, snorting; but for the first minute +or so none of them backed away from the +threatening beast. +</p> +<p> +The hair rose stiffly on the bear’s neck and she +uttered a second challenging growl. Tom had +pulled out his automatic; but he had already +learned that at any considerable distance +this weapon was not to be depended upon. Min’s +forty-five threw a bullet where one aimed; not so +the newfangled weapon. +</p> +<p> +Besides, the bear was a big one and it really +looked as though a pistol ball would be an awfully +silly thing to throw at it. +</p> +<p> +Rebecca Frayne had just begun to cry and Sally +Blanchard was begging everybody to “come +away,” when Min Peters slipped around from the +rear to the head of the column. +</p> +<p> +“Hold on to your horses, girls,” she whispered +shrilly. “Mebbe some of ’em’s gun-shy. Steady +now—and we’ll have bear’s tongue and liver for +supper.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Minnie!” squealed Helen. +</p> +<p> +Min was not to be disturbed from her purpose +by any hysterical girl. She was not depending +upon her forty-five for the work in hand. She had +brought her father’s rifle from Handy Gulch; +and now it came in use most opportunely. +</p> +<p> +The bear was still on its haunches and still roaring +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +when Min got into position. The beast was +an easy mark, and the Western girl dropped on +one knee, thus steadying her aim, for the rifle was +heavy. +</p> +<p> +The bear roared again; then the rifle roared. +The latter almost knocked Min over, the recoil +was so great. But the shot quite knocked the +bear over. The heavy slug of lead had penetrated +the beast’s heart and lungs. +</p> +<p> +She staggered forward, the blood spouted from +her wide open jaws as well as from her breast; +and finally she came down with a crash upon the +hard trail. She was quite dead before she hit the +ground. +</p> +<p> +There was screaming enough then. Everybody +save Ann Hicks and Tom, perhaps, had quite lost +his self-control. Such a jabbering as followed! +</p> +<p> +“Goodness me, girls,” drawled Jennie Stone at +last, raising her voice so as to be heard. “Goodness +me! Min just wasted that perfectly good +lead bullet. We could easily have talked that +poor bear to death.” +</p> +<p> +It had been rather a startling incident, however, +and they were not likely to stop talking about +it immediately. Miss Cullam was more than +frightened by the event; she felt that she had been +misled. +</p> +<p> +“I had no idea there were actually wild creatures +like those bears in this country, Ruth Fielding. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +I certainly never would have come had I +realized it. You could not have hired me to come +on this trip.” +</p> +<p> +“But, dear Miss Cullam,” Ruth said, somewhat +troubled because the lady was, “I really had no +idea they were here.” +</p> +<p> +“I assure you,” Helen said soberly, “that the +bears did not appear by <em>my</em> invitation, much as I +enjoy mild excitement.” +</p> +<p> +“‘Mild excitement’!” breathed Rebecca +Frayne. “My word!” +</p> +<p> +“And those other two bears are loose and may +attack us,” pursued Miss Cullam. +</p> +<p> +“They were only cubs, Miss,” said Min, who, +with her father, was already at work removing the +bear’s pelt. “They’re running yet. And I shouldn’t +have shot this critter only it might have done some +damage, being mad because of its young. We may +have to explain this shootin’ to the game wardens. +There’s a closed season for bears like there is for +game birds. There ain’t many left.” +</p> +<p> +“And do they really want to keep any of the +horrid creatures <em>alive?</em>” demanded Trix Davenport. +</p> +<p> +“Yes. Bear shootin’ attracts tenderfoots; and +tenderfoots have money to spend. That’s the +how of it,” explained Min. +</p> +<p> +The ponies did not like the smell of the bear, +and they were all drawn ahead on the trail. But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +the cavalcade waited for Pedro and the burros to +overtake them; then the load on one burro was +transferred to the ponies and the pelt and as much +of the bear meat as they could make use of in such +warm weather was put upon the burro. +</p> +<p> +“Not that either the skin or the meat’s much +good this time o’ year. She ain’t got fatted up +yet after sucklin’ them cubs. But, anyway, you +kin say ye had bear meat when you git back East,” +Min declared practically. +</p> +<p> +The girls went on after that with their eyes +very wide open. Miss Cullam declared that she +knew she never would forget how those three +bears looked standing on their hind legs and “glaring” +at her. +</p> +<p> +“Glaring!” repeated Jennie Stone. “All I could +see was that old bear’s open mouth. It quite +swallowed up her eyes.” +</p> +<p> +“What an acrobatic feat!” sighed Trix Davenport. +“You <em>do</em> have an imagination, Jennie +Stone.” +</p> +<p> +The event did not pass over as a matter for +laughter altogether; the girls had really been given +a severe fright. Min was obliged to ride ahead, +or the tourists never would have rounded a bend +in the trail in real comfort. It was probable that +the Western girl had a hearty contempt for their +cowardice. “But what could you expect of tenderfoots?” +she grumbled to Ann Hicks. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +</p> +<p> +“D’you know,” said the girl from Silver Ranch +to the girl guide, “that is what I used to think +about these Eastern girlies—that they were only +babies. But just because they are gun-shy, and are +unused to many of the phases of outdoor life with +which you and I are familiar, Min, doesn’t make +them altogether useless. +</p> +<p> +“Believe me, my dear! when it comes to book +learning, and knowing how to dress, and being +used to the society game, these girls from Ardmore +are <em>sharks!</em>” +</p> +<p> +“I reckon that’s right,” agreed Min. “I +watched ’em come off the train in Yucca, and they +looked like they’d just stepped out of a mail-order +house catalogue. Such fixin’s!” and the girl who +had never worn proper feminine clothing sighed +longingly at the remembrance of the Ardmore +girls’ traveling dresses and hats. +</p> +<p> +The more Min saw of the Eastern girls, the +more desirous she was of being like them—in some +ways, at least. She might sneer at their lack of +physical courage; nevertheless, she was well aware +that they were used to many things of which she +knew very little. And there never was a girl born +who did not long for pretty clothes, and who did +not wish to appear attractive in the eyes of others. +</p> +<p> +Helen and Jennie had not forgotten their idea +of dressing their guide in some of their furbelows. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +</p> +<p> +“Just wait till our trunks get to that Freezeout +place, along with your movie people, Ruth,” said +Jennie. “We’ll just doll poor Min all up.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s an idea!” exclaimed the girl of the Red +Mill, her mind quick to absorb any suggestion relative +to her art. “I can put Min in the picture—if +she will agree. Show her as she is, then have her +metamorphosised into a pretty girl—for she <em>is</em> +pretty.” +</p> +<p> +“From the ugly caterpillar to the butterfly,” +cried Helen. +</p> +<p> +“A regular Bret Harte character—queen of the +mining camp,” said Jennie. “You can give me a +share of your royalties, Ruth, for this suggestion.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth had so many ideas in her head for scenes +at the mining camp that she was anxious to get +over the trail and reach Freezeout. By this time +Mr. Hammond and his outfit must have arrived +at Yucca. +</p> +<p> +The trail was rough, however, and the cavalcade +of college girls could travel only about so +fast. Those unfamiliar with saddle work, like +Miss Cullam, found the journey hard enough. +</p> +<p> +At night they had to camp in the open, after +leaving Handy Gulch; and because of the appearance +of the bears, there were two guards set at +night, and the fires were kept up. Tom and Pedro +took half the watch, and then Min and her father +took their turn. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +</p> +<p> +Nothing happened of moment, however, during +the three nights that ensued before the party +reached the abandoned camp of Freezeout. They +came down into the “draw” or arroyo in which the +old mining camp lay late one afternoon. A more +deserted-looking place could scarcely be imagined. +</p> +<p> +There were half a hundred log cabins, of assorted +sizes and in different stages of dilapidation. +The air was so dry and so little rain fell in +this part of Arizona that the log walls of the +structures were in fairly good condition, and not +all the roofs had fallen in. +</p> +<p> +Min and her father, with Tom Cameron, +searched among the cabins to find those most suitable +for occupancy. But it was Ruth Fielding who +discovered something that startled the whole +party. +</p> +<p> +“See here! See here!” she called. “I’ve found +something.” +</p> +<p> +“What is it?” asked Tom. “More bears?” +</p> +<p> +“No. Somebody has been ahead of us here. +Perhaps we are not alone in having an interest in +this Freezeout place.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean, Ruthie?” cried Helen, running +to her chum. +</p> +<p> +“Here are the remains of a campfire. The +ashes are still warm. Somebody camped here last +night, that is sure. Do you suppose they are here +now?” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span><a name='chXV' id='chXV'></a>CHAPTER XV—MORE DISCOVERIES</h2> +<p> +A quick but thorough search of the abandoned +mining camp revealed no living person save the +party of tourists themselves. +</p> +<p> +Ruth’s inquiry for the persons who had built +the campfire aroused the curiosity of Min Peters +and her father, and they made some investigations +for which the girl from the East scarcely saw the +reason. +</p> +<p> +“If we’ve got neighbors here, might’s well know +who they are,” said Flapjack, who was gradually +finding his voice and was “spunking up,” according +to his daughter’s statement. +</p> +<p> +Peters was particularly anxious to please. He +felt deeply the humiliation of what he had gone +through at Handy Gulch, and wished to show +Ruth and the other girls that he was of some account. +</p> +<p> +No Indian could have scrutinized the vicinity +of the dead campfire which Ruth had found more +carefully than he did. Finally he announced that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +two men had been here at the abandoned settlement +the night before. +</p> +<p> +“One big feller and a mighty little man. I don’t +know what to make of that little feller’s footprints,” +said the old prospector. “Mebbe he ain’t +only a boy. But they camped here—sure. And +they’ve gone on—right out through the dry watercourse +an’ toward the east. I reckon they was +harmless.” +</p> +<p> +“They surely will be harmless if they keep on +going and never come back,” laughed Ruth. “But +I hope there are not many idlers hanging about +this neighbourhood. I suppose there are some +bad characters in these hills?” +</p> +<p> +“About as bad as tramps are in town,” said +Min, scornfully. “You folks from the East do +have funny ideas. Ev’ry other man out here ain’t +a train robber nor a cattle rustler. No, ma’am!” +</p> +<p> +“The movie company will supply all those, I +fancy,” chuckled Jennie Stone. “Going to have a +real, bad road agent in your play, Ruthie?” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind what I am going to have,” retorted +Ruth, shaking her head. “I mean to have +just as true a picture as possible of the old-time +gold diggings; and that doesn’t mean that guns are +flourished every minute or two. Mr. Peters can +help me a lot by telling me what he remembers of +this very camp, I know.” +</p> +<p> +Flapjack was greatly pleased at this. Although +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +Ruth continued to keep Min, the girl guide, to the +fore, she saw that the girl’s father was going to be +vastly pleased by being made of some account. +</p> +<p> +It was he who advised which of the cabins +should be made habitable for the party. One was +selected for the girls and Miss Cullam to sleep in; +another for the men; and a third for a kitchen. +</p> +<p> +But Flapjack made supper that night in the open +as usual. For the first time he proudly displayed +to the girls from the East the talent by which his +nickname originated. +</p> +<p> +Min made a great “crock” of batter and +greased the griddles for him. Flapjack stood, red +faced and eager, over the bed of live coals and +handled the two griddles in an expert manner. +</p> +<p> +The cakes were as large as breakfast plates, +and were browned to a beautiful shade—one fried +in each griddle. When the time came to turn +them, Flapjack Peters performed this delicate +operation by tossing them into the air, and with +such a sleight of hand that the flapjacks exchanged +griddles in their “turnover”. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me!” murmured Miss Cullam. “Such +acrobatic cooking I never beheld. But the cakes +are remarkably tasty.” +</p> +<p> +“Aeroplane pancakes,” suggested Tom Cameron. +“Believe me, they are as light as they fly, +too.” +</p> +<p> +That night the party was particularly jolly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +They had reached their destination and, as Miss +Cullam said in relief, without dire mishap. +</p> +<p> +The girls were, after all, glad to shut a door +against the whole outside world when they went to +bed; although the windows were merely holes in +the cabin walls through which the air had a perfectly +free circulation. +</p> +<p> +There were six bunks in the cabin; but only one +of them was put in proper condition for use. Miss +Cullam was given that and the girls rolled up in +their blankets on the floor, with their saddles, as +usual, for pillows. +</p> +<p> +“We have got so used to camping out of doors,” +Helen Cameron said, “that we shall be unable to +sleep in our beds when we get home.” +</p> +<p> +In the morning, however, the first work Min +started was to fill bags with dried grass from the +hillsides and make mattresses for all the bunks. +Tom had brought along hammer and nails as well +as a saw, and with the old prospector’s assistance +he repaired the remainder of the bunks in the girls’ +cabin and put up three new ones. There was +plenty of building material about the camp. +</p> +<p> +Ruth, meantime, cleared out a fourth cabin. +Here was set up the typewriter, and she and Rebecca +Frayne planned to make the hut their workshop. +</p> +<p> +“You girls, as long as you don’t leave the confines +of the camp alone, are welcome to go where +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span> +you please, only, save, and excepting to the sanctum +sanctorum,” Ruth said at lunch time. “I am +going to put up a sign over the door, ‘Beware.’” +</p> +<p> +“But surely, Ruth, you’re not going to work <em>all</em> +the time?” complained Helen. +</p> +<p> +“How are we going to have any fun, Ruth +Fielding, if you keep out of it?” demanded Ann +Hicks. +</p> +<p> +“I shall get up early and work in the forenoon. +While the mood is on me and my mind is fresh, +you know,” laughed Ruth. “That is, I shall do +that after I really get to work. First I must ‘soak +in’ local color.” +</p> +<p> +She did this by wandering alone through the +shallow gorge, from the first, or lower “diggings,” +up to the final abandoned claim, where the gold +pockets had petered out. There were hundreds +of places about the old camp where the gold hunters +had dug in hope of finding the precious metal. +</p> +<p> +Ruth really knew little about this work. But +she had learned from hearing Min and her father +talk that, wherever there was gold in “pockets” +and “streaks” in the sand there must somewhere +near be “a mother lode.” Flapjack confessed to +having spent weeks looking for that mother lode +about Freezeout Camp. It had never been discovered. +</p> +<p> +“And after the Chinks got through with this +here place, you couldn’t find a pinch of placer gold +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +big enough t’ fill your pipe,” the old prospector announced. +“I reckon she’s here somewhere; but +there won’t nobody find her now.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth saw some things that made her wonder if +somebody had not been looking for gold here +much more recently than Flapjack Peters supposed. +In three separate places beside the brawling +stream that ran down the gorge, it seemed to +her the heaped up sand was still wet. She knew +about “cradling”—that crude manner of separating +gold from the soil; and it seemed to her as +though somebody had recently tried for “color” +along the edge of this stream. +</p> +<p> +However, Ruth Fielding’s mind was fixed upon +something far different from placer mining. She +was brooding over a motion picture, and she was +determined to turn out a better scenario than she +had ever before written. +</p> +<p> +Hazel Gray, whom Ruth and her chum, Helen, +had met a year and a half before, and who had +played the heroine’s part in “The Heart of a +Schoolgirl,” was to come on with Mr. Hammond +and his company to play the chief woman’s part in +the new drama. For there was to be a strong love +interest in the story, and that thread of the plot +was already quite clear in Ruth’s mind. +</p> +<p> +She had recently, however, considered Min +Peters as a foil for Hazel Gray. Min was exactly +the type of girl to fit into the story of “The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +Forty-Niners. As for her ability to act—— +</p> +<p> +“There is no girl who can’t act, if she gets the +chance, I am sure,” thought Ruth. “Only, some +can act better than others.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth really had little doubt about Min’s ability +to play the part that she had thought out for her. +Only, would she do it? Would she feel that her +own character and condition in life was being held +up to ridicule? Ruth had to be careful about +that. +</p> +<p> +On returning to the camp she said nothing about +the discoveries she had made along the bank of +the stream. But that evening, after supper, as +the whole party were grouped before the cabins +they had now made fairly comfortable, Trix Davenport +suddenly startled them all by crying: +</p> +<p> +“See there! Who’s that?” +</p> +<p> +“Who’s where, Trixie?” asked Jennie, lazily. +“Are you seeing things?” +</p> +<p> +“I certainly am,” said the diminutive girl. +</p> +<p> +“So do I!” Sally exclaimed. “There’s a man +on horseback.” +</p> +<p> +In the purple dusk they saw him mounting a +distant ridge east of the stream—almost on the +confines of the valley on that side. It was only +for a minute that he held in his horse and seemed +to be gazing down at the fire flickering in the principal +street of Freezeout Camp. +</p> +<p> +Then he rode on, out of sight. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span><a name='chXVI' id='chXVI'></a>CHAPTER XVI—NEW ARRIVALS</h2> +<p> +“‘The lone horseman riding into the purple +dusk,’ à la the sensational novelist,” chuckled Jennie +Stone. “Who do you suppose that was, Min?” +</p> +<p> +“Dunno,” declared the Yucca girl. But it was +plain she was somewhat disturbed by the appearance +of the horseman. And so was Flapjack. +</p> +<p> +They whispered together over their own fire, +and Flapjack warned Tom Cameron to be sure +that his automatic was well oiled and that he kept +it handy during his turn at watching the camp that +night. +</p> +<p> +Morning came, however, without anything +more threatening than the almost continuous howling +of a coyote. +</p> +<p> +Ruth, who wandered about a little by herself the +second day at Freezeout, saw Flapjack go over to +the ridge where they had seen the lone horseman. +He came back, shaking his head. +</p> +<p> +“Who was the man, Mr. Peters?” she asked +him curiously. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +</p> +<p> +“Dunno, Miss. He ain’t projectin’ around here +now, that’s sure. His pony done took him away +from there on a gallop. But there ain’t many single +men that’s honest hoverin’ about these parts.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean?” asked the surprised +Ruth. “That only married men are to be trusted +in Arizona?” +</p> +<p> +He grinned at her. “You’re some joker, Miss,” +he replied. Then, seeing that the girl was genuinely +puzzled, he added: “I mean that ‘nless a +man’s got something to be ‘fraid of, he usually has +a partner in these regions. ’Tain’t healthy to +prospect round alone. Something might happen +to you—rock fall on you, or you git took sick, and +then there ain’t nobody to do for you, or for to +ride for the doctor.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” +</p> +<p> +“Men that’s bein’ chased by the sheriff, on +t’other hand,” went on Flapjack, frankly, “sometimes +prefers to be alone. You git me?” +</p> +<p> +“I understand,” admitted the girl of the Red +Mill. “But don’t let Miss Cullam hear you say it. +She will be determined to start back for the railroad +at once, if you do.” +</p> +<p> +Flapjack promised to say nothing to disturb +the rest of the party, and Ruth knew she could +trust Min’s good judgment. But she began to +worry in her own mind about who the strange +horseman could be, and about his business near +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span> +Freezeout Camp. She naturally connected the +unknown with the traces she had seen of recent +placer washings and with the campfire the ashes +of which had been warm when her party arrived. +</p> +<p> +With these suspicions, those that had centered +about Edith Phelps in Ruth’s mind, began to be +connected. She could not explain it. It did not +seem possible that the Ardmore sophomore could +have any real interest in the making of this picture +of “The Forty-Niners.” Yet, why had Edith +come into the Hualapai Range? +</p> +<p> +Why Edith had kept Ann Hicks from meeting +her friends as soon as they arrived at Yucca was +more easily understood. Edith wished to get +ahead of Ruth’s party on the trail without her +presence in Arizona being known to the freshman +party. +</p> +<p> +But why, <em>why</em> had she come? The perplexing +question returned to Ruth Fielding’s mind time +and again. +</p> +<p> +And the man who had met Edith and with +whom she had presumably ridden away from +Handy Gulch—who could <em>he</em> be? Had the two +come to Freezeout Camp, and were they lingering +about the vicinity now? Was the stranger on +horseback revealed against the skyline the evening +before, Edith Phelps’ comrade? +</p> +<p> +“If I take any of the girls into my confidence +about this,” thought Ruth, “it will not long be a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +secret. Perhaps, too, I might frighten them needlessly. +Surely Edith, and whoever she is with, +cannot mean us any real harm. Better keep still +and see what comes of it.” +</p> +<p> +It bothered her, however. And it coaxed her +mind away from the important matter of the +scenario. However, she was doing pretty well +with that and Rebecca had several scenes of the +first two episodes ready for Mr. Hammond. +</p> +<p> +That afternoon, while she was absorbed in +sketching out the third episode of her scenario, and +Rebecca was beating the typewriter keys in busy +staccato, Helen came running from the far end +of the camp and burst into the sanctum sanctorum +in wild disorder. +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean?” demanded her chum, almost +angry at Helen’s thoughtlessness. “Don’t +you know that I am supposed to be ‘dead to the +world’?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Ruthie, forgive me! But I had to tell you +at once. There’s a strange woman about the +camp. Miss Cullam and I both saw her.” +</p> +<p> +“A strange woman!” repeated Ruth. “I’m +sure Miss Cullam didn’t send you hotfoot to tell +me.” +</p> +<p> +“No-o. But I had to tell you—I just <em>had</em> to,” +Helen declared. “Don’t be mean, Ruthie. Do +take an interest in something besides your old +movie picture.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +</p> +<p> +“Why, I am interested,” admitted Ruth. “But +who is this strange woman?” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” exclaimed Helen. “That’s just +what’s the matter. We don’t know. We didn’t +see her face. She had a big shawl—or a Navajo +blanket—around her.” +</p> +<p> +“An Indian squaw!” exclaimed Rebecca who +could not help hearing. “I’d like to see one myself.” +</p> +<p> +“We-ell, maybe she was an Indian squaw,” admitted +Helen, slowly. “But why did she run from +us?” +</p> +<p> +“Afraid of you,” chuckled Ruth. “I expect to +the eyes of the untutored savage you and Miss Cullam +looked perfectly awful.” +</p> +<p> +“Now, Ruth!” +</p> +<p> +“But why bring your conundrums to me—just +when I am busiest, too?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I never! I thought you might be interested,” +sniffed Helen. +</p> +<p> +“I am, dear. But don’t you see that your +news is so—er—<em>sketchy?</em> I might be perfectly +enthralled about this Indian squaw if I really met +her. Capture her and bring her into camp.” +</p> +<p> +Helen went off rather offended. As it happened, +it was Ruth herself who was destined to +learn more about the mysterious woman, as well +as the lone horseman. But much happened before +that. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +</p> +<p> +Before the end of the week Mr. Hammond +rode into Freezeout with a nondescript outfit, including +a dozen workmen prepared to put the old +camp into shape for the making of the great film. +</p> +<p> +The old camp became a busy place immediately. +Flapjack Peters “came out strong,” as his daughter +expressed it, at this juncture. His memory of +old times at these very diggings and at similar +mines proved to be keen, and he became a valuable +aid to Mr. Hammond. +</p> +<p> +Four days later the wagons appeared and the +girls got their trunks. That very night there was +a “regular party” in one of the old saloons and +dancehalls that chanced, even after all these years, +to be habitable. +</p> +<p> +One of the teamsters had brought his fiddle, and +at the prospect of a dance, even with the paucity +of men, the Ardmore girls were delighted. But, +to tell the truth, the “party” was arranged more +for the sake of Min Peters than for aught else. +</p> +<p> +“She’s got to get used to wearing fit clothes before +those movie people come,” Ann Hicks said +firmly. “You leave it to me, girls. I know how +to coax her on.” +</p> +<p> +And Ann proved the truth of her statement. +Not that Min was not eager to see herself “all +dolled up,” as Jennie called it, in one of the two +big mirrors the wagons had brought along for +use in the actresses’ dressing cabins. But she was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span> +fiercely independent, and to suggest that she accept +the college girls’ frocks and furbelows as gifts +would have angered her. +</p> +<p> +But Ann induced her to “borrow” the things +needed, and from the trunks of all were obtained +the articles necessary to make Min Peters appear +at the party as well dressed as any girl need be. +Nor was she so awkward as some had feared. +</p> +<p> +“And pretty was no name for it.” +</p> +<p> +“See there!” cried Helen, under her breath, to +her chum. “The girl is cutting you out, Ruth, +with old Tommy-boy. He’s asked her to dance.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth only smiled at this. She had put Tom up +to that herself, for she learned from Ann that the +Yucca girl knew how to dance. +</p> +<p> +“Of course she can. There is scarcely a girl +in the West who doesn’t dance. Goodness, +Ruthie! don’t you remember how crazy they were +for dancing around Silver Ranch, and the fun we +had at the schoolhouse dance at The Crossing? +Maybe we ain’t on to all those new foxtrots and +tangos; but we can <em>dance</em>.” +</p> +<p> +So it proved with Min. She flushed deeply +when Tom asked her, and she hesitated. Then, +seeing the other girls whirling about the floor, +two and two, the temptation to “show ’em” was +too much. She accepted Tom’s invitation and the +young fellow admitted afterward that he had +danced with “a lot worse girls back East.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +</p> +<p> +Before the evening was over, Min was supremely +happy. And perhaps the effect on her +father was quite as important as upon Min herself. +For the first time in her life he saw his daughter +in the garb of girls of her age—saw her as she +should be. +</p> +<p> +“By mighty!” the man muttered, staring at +Min. “I don’t git it—not right. Is that sure ‘nuff +my girl?” +</p> +<p> +“You should be proud of her,” said Mr. Hammond, +who heard the old-timer say this. “She deserves +a lot from you, Peters. I understand she’s +been your companion on all your prospecting trips +since her mother died.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s right. She’s been the old man’s best +friend. She’s skookum. But I had no idee she’d +look like that when she was fussed up same’s other +girls. She’s been more like a boy to me.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, she’s no boy, you see,” Mr. Hammond +said dryly. +</p> +<p> +Out of the dance, however, Ruth gained her desire. +She explained to Min that she needed just +her to make the motion picture complete. And +Min, bashfully enough but gratefully, agreed to +act the part of the “lookout” in the “palace of +pleasure” afterward appearing in a girl’s garb in +the hotel parlor. +</p> +<p> +Ruth was deep in her story now and could give +attention to little else. Mr. Grimes and the motion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span> +picture company would arrive in a week, +and by that time the several important buildings +would be ready and the main street of Freezeout +appear as it had been when the placer diggings +were in full swing. +</p> +<p> +Something happened before the company arrived, +however, which was of an astounding nature. +Ruth, riding with Helen and Jennie one +afternoon east of the camp, came upon the ridge +where the lone horseman had been observed. And +here, overhanging the gorge, was a place where +the quartz ledge had been laid bare by pick and +shovel. +</p> +<p> +“See that rock, girls? Look, how it sparkles!” +said Helen. “Suppose it should be a vein of +gold?” +</p> +<p> +“Suppose it <em>is!</em>” cried Jennie, scrambling off her +horse. +</p> +<p> +“‘Fools’ gold,’ more likely, girls,” Ruth said. +</p> +<p> +“What is that?” demanded Jennie. +</p> +<p> +“Pyrites. But we might take some samples and +show them to Flapjack.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you suppose that old fellow actually knows +gold-bearing quartz when he sees it?” asked +Helen, in doubt. +</p> +<p> +They picked up several pieces of the broken +rock, and that evening after supper showed Peters +and Min their booty. Flapjack actually turned +pale when he saw it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +</p> +<p> +“Where’d you git this, Miss?” he asked Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Well, it isn’t two miles from here,” said the +girl of the Red Mill. “What do you think of it?” +</p> +<p> +“I think this here is a placer diggin’s,” said +Peters, slowly. “But it’s sure that wherever +there’s placer there must be a rock-vein where the +gold washed off, or was ground off, ages and ages +ago. D’you understand?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes!” cried Helen, breathlessly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! suppose we have found gold!” murmured +Jennie, quite as excited as Helen. +</p> +<p> +“The rock-vein ain’t never been found around +here,” said Flapjack. “I know, for I’ve hunted it +myself. Both banks of the crick, up an’ down, +have been s’arched——” +</p> +<p> +“But suppose this was found a good way from +the stream?” +</p> +<p> +“Mebbe so,” said the old prospector. “The +crick might ha’ shifted its bed a dozen times since +the glacier age. We don’t know.” +</p> +<p> +“But how shall we find out if this rock is any +good?” asked Jennie, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Hammond’s goin’ to send a man out to +Handy Gulch with mail to-morrow,” said the prospector. +“He’ll send these samples to the assayer +there. He’ll send back word whether it’s good for +anything or not. But I tell you right now, ladies. +If I’m any jedge at all, that ore’ll assay a hundred +an’ fifty dollars to the ton—or nothin’.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span><a name='chXVII' id='chXVII'></a>CHAPTER XVII—THE MAN IN THE CABIN</h2> +<p> +Why, of course they could not keep it to +themselves! At least, the three girls could not. +They simply had to tell Miss Cullam and Tom, +and the other Ardmore freshmen and Ann of their +discovery. +</p> +<p> +So every day after that the visitors from the +East “went prospecting.” They searched up and +down the creek for several miles, turning over +every bit of “sparkling” rock they saw and bringing +back to the camp innumerable specimens of +quartz and mica, until Mr. Hammond declared +they were all “gold mad.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, this place has been petered out for years +and years,” he said. “Do you suppose I want my +actors leaving me to stake out claims along Freezeout +Creek, and spoiling my picture? Stop it!” +</p> +<p> +The idea of gold hunting had got into the girls, +however, as well as into Flapjack Peters and his +daughter. The other Western men laughed at +them. Gold this side of the Hualapai Range had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span> +“petered out.” They looked upon the old-timer +as a little cracked on the subject. And, of course, +these “tenderfoots” did not know anything about +“color” anyway. +</p> +<p> +Even Miss Cullam searched along the creek +banks and up into the low hills that surrounded +the valley. +</p> +<p> +“Who knows,” said the teacher of mathematics, +“but that I may find a fortune, and so be able +to eschew the teaching of the young for the rest +of my life? Gorgeous!” +</p> +<p> +“But pity the ‘young’,” begged Jennie Stone. +“Think, Miss Cullam, how we would miss you.” +</p> +<p> +“I can hardly imagine that you would suffer,” +declared the mathematics teacher. “Really!” +</p> +<p> +“We might not miss the mathematics,” said Rebecca, +wickedly. “But you are the very best chaperon +who ever ‘beaued’ a party of girls into the +wilds. Isn’t that the truth, Ardmores?” +</p> +<p> +“It is!” they cried. “Hurrah for Miss Cullam!” +</p> +<p> +Ruth, however, despite the discovery of the possibly +gold-bearing quartz, was not to be coaxed +from her work. Each morning she shut herself +into the “sanctum sanctorum” and worked faithfully +at the scenario. Likewise, Rebecca stuck to +the typewriter, for she had work to do for Mr. +Hammond now, as well as for Ruth. +</p> +<p> +Some part of each afternoon Ruth took for exercise +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +in the open. And usually she took this exercise +on ponyback. +</p> +<p> +Riding alone out of the shallow gorge one day, +she struck into what seemed to her a bridlepath +which led into “dips” and valleys in the hills which +she had never before seen. Nothing more had +been observed of either the lone horseman or the +supposed squaw for so many days that their presence +about Freezeout Camp had quite slipped +Ruth Fielding’s mind. +</p> +<p> +Besides, there were so many men at the camp +now that to have fear of strangers was never in +the girl’s thoughts. She urged her hardy pony +into a gallop and sped down hill and up in a most +invigorating dash. +</p> +<p> +Such a ride cleared the cobwebs out of her head +and revivified mind and body alike. At the end of +this dash, when she halted the pony in an arroyo +to breathe, she was cheerful and happy and ready +to laugh at anything. +</p> +<p> +She laughed first at her own nose! It really was +ridiculous to think that she smelled wood smoke. +</p> +<p> +But the pungent odor of burning wood grew +more and more distinct. She gazed swiftly all +around her, seeing no campfire, of course, in this +shallow gulch. But suddenly she gathered up the +bridle reins tightly and stared, wide-eyed, off to the +left. A faint column of blue smoke rose into the +air—she could not be mistaken. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span> +</p> +<p> +“Here’s a pretty kettle of fish!” thought Ruth. +“Another camping party? Who can be living so +near Freezeout without giving us a call? The +lone horseman? The Indian squaw? Or both?” +</p> +<p> +She half turned her pony to ride back. It might +be some ill-disposed person camping here in secret. +Flapjack and Min had intimated there were occasionally +ne’er-do-wells found in the range—outlaws, +or ill-disposed Indians. +</p> +<p> +Still, it was cowardly to run from the unknown. +Ruth had tasted real peril on more than one occasion. +She touched the spur to her pony instead +of pulling him around, and rode on. +</p> +<p> +There was a curve in the arroyo and when she +came into the hidden part of the basin the mystery +was instantly explained. A fairly substantial +cabin—recently built it was evident—stood near a +thicket of mesquite. The door was hung on +leather hinges and was wide open. Yet there must +be some occupant, for the smoke rose through the +hole in the roof. It struck Ruth, for several reasons, +that the cabin had been built by an amateur. +</p> +<p> +She held in her pony again and might, after all, +have wheeled him and ridden away without going +closer, if the little beast had not betrayed her presence +by a shrill whinny. Immediately the pony’s +challenge was answered from the mesquite where +the unknown’s horse was picketed. +</p> +<p> +Ruth was startled again. No sound came from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +the cabin, nor could she discover anybody watching +her from the jungle. She rode nearer to the +cabin door. +</p> +<p> +It was then that the unshod hoofs of her pony +announced her presence to whoever was within. +A voice shouted suddenly: +</p> +<p> +“Hullo!” +</p> +<p> +The tone in which the word was uttered drove +all the fear out of Ruth Fielding’s mind. She +knew that the owner of such a voice must be a gentleman. +</p> +<p> +She rode her pony up to the open door and +peered into the dimly lighted interior. There was +no window in the cabin walls. +</p> +<p> +“Hullo yourself!” she rejoined. “Are you all +alone?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure I am. I’m a hermit—the Hermit Prospector. +And I bet you are one of those moving +picture girls.” +</p> +<p> +A laugh accompanied the words. Ruth then +saw the man, extended at full length in a rude +bunk. One foot was bare and it and the ankle +was swathed in bandages. +</p> +<p> +“Sorry I can’t get up to do the honors. Doctor’s +ordered me to stay in bed till this ankle recovers.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Is it broken?” cried Ruth, slipping out +of her saddle and throwing the reins on the ground +before the pony so that he would stand. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +</p> +<p> +“Wrenched. But a bad one. I’m likely to stay +here a while.” +</p> +<p> +“And all alone?” breathed Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Quite so. Not a soul to swear at, nor a cat to +kick. My horse is out there in the mesquite and +I suppose he’s tangled up——” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll fix that in a moment,” cried Ruth. “He’d +better be tethered here on the hillside before your +door. The grazing is good.” +</p> +<p> +“Well—yes. I suppose so.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth was off into the mesquite in a flash. She +found the whinnying pony. And she discovered +another thing. The animal’s lariat had been untangled +and his grazing place changed several +times. +</p> +<p> +“You’ve hobbled around a good bit since your +ankle was hurt,” she said accusingly, when she returned +to the cabin door. “And see all the firewood +you’ve got!” +</p> +<p> +“I expect I did too much after I strained the +ankle,” the man admitted gravely. “That’s why +it is so bad now. But when a man’s alone——” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. When he <em>is</em> alone,” repeated Ruth, eyeing +him thoughtfully. +</p> +<p> +He was a young man and as roughly dressed +as any of the teamsters at Freezeout Camp. +There was, too, several days’ growth of beard +upon his face. But he was a good looking chap, +with rather a humorous cast of countenance. And +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span> +Ruth was quite sure that he was educated and at +present in a strange environment. +</p> +<p> +“Have you plenty of water?” she asked suddenly, +for she had seen the spring several rods +away. +</p> +<p> +“Lots,” declared “the hermit.” “See! I’ve a +drip.” +</p> +<p> +He pointed with pride to the arrangement of a +rude shelf beside the head of his bunk with a +twenty-quart galvanized pail upon it. A pin-hole +had been punched in this pail near the bottom, and +the water dripped from the aperture steadily into +a pint cup on the floor. +</p> +<p> +“Would you believe it,” he said, with a smile, +“the water, after falling so far through the air, +is quite cooled.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you do when the pail is empty?” the +girl asked quickly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! I shall be able to hobble to the spring by +that time. If the cup gets full and I don’t need +the water, I pour it back.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth stood on tiptoe and looked into the pail. +Then she brought water from the spring in her +own canteen, making several trips, and filled the +pail to the brim. +</p> +<p> +“Now, what do you eat, and how do you get +it?” she asked him. +</p> +<p> +“My dear young lady!” he cried, “you must not +worry about me. I shall be all right. I was just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span> +going to cook some bacon when you rode up. That +is why I made up a fresh fire. I shall be all right, +I assure you.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth insisted upon rumaging through his stores +and cooking the hermit a hearty meal. She +marked the fact that certain delicacies were here +that the ordinary prospector would not have +packed into the wilds. Likewise, there was vastly +more tea and sugar than one person could use in a +long time. +</p> +<p> +Ruth was quite sure “the hermit” was not a native +of the West. She was exceedingly puzzled as +she went about her kindly duties. Then, of a +sudden, she was actually startled as well as puzzled. +In a corner of the cabin she found hanging +on a nail a rubber bathcap on which was stenciled +“Ardmore.” It was one of the gymnasium +caps from her college. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span><a name='chXVIII' id='chXVIII'></a>CHAPTER XVIII—RUTH REALLY HAS A SECRET</h2> +<p> +Ruth Fielding came back from her ride to +Freezeout Camp and said not a word to a soul +about her discovery of the young man in the cabin. +She had a secret at last, but it was not her own. +She did not feel that she had the right to speak +even to Helen about it. +</p> +<p> +She was quite sure “the hermit” had no ill intention +toward their party. And if he had a companion +that companion could do those at Freezeout +no harm. +</p> +<p> +Just what it was all about Ruth did not know; +yet she had some suspicions. However, she rode +out to the lone cabin the next day, and the next, to +see that the young man was comfortable. “The +Hermit Prospector,” as he laughingly called himself, +was doing very well. +</p> +<p> +Ruth brought him two slim poles out of the +wood and he fashioned himself a pair of crutches. +By means of these he began to hobble around and +Ruth decided that he did not need her further ministrations. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span> +She did not tell him that she should +cease calling, she merely ceased riding that way. +For a “hermit” he had seemed very glad, indeed, +to have somebody to speak to. +</p> +<p> +Ruth was exceedingly busy now. The director, +Mr. Grimes—a very efficient but unpleasant man—arrived +with the remainder of the company, and +rehearsals began immediately. Hazel Gray, who +had been so fresh and young looking when Ruth +and Helen first met her at the Red Mill, was beginning +to show the ravages of “film acting.” The +appealing personality which had first brought her +into prominence in motion pictures was now a matter +of “registering.” There was little spontaneity +in the leading lady’s acting; but the part she had to +play in “The Forty-Niners” was far different from +that she had acted in “The Heart of a School +Girl,” an earlier play of Ruth’s. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Grimes was just as unpleasantly sarcastic +as when Ruth first saw him. But he got out of his +people what was needed, although his shouting and +threatening seemed to Ruth to be unnecessary. +</p> +<p> +With Ruth Mr. Grimes was perfectly polite. +Perhaps he knew better than to be otherwise. He +was good enough to commend the scenario, and +although he changed several scenes she had spent +hard work upon, Ruth was sensible enough to see +that he changed them for good cause and usually +for the better. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span> +</p> +<p> +He approved of Min’s part in the play, and he +was careful with the Western girl in her scenes. +Min did very well, indeed, and even Flapjack +made his extra three dollars a day on several occasions +when he appeared with the teamsters in +the “rough house” scenes in the night life of the +old-time mining camp. +</p> +<p> +The film actors were not an unpleasant company; +yet after all they were not people who could +adapt themselves to the rude surroundings of the +abandoned camp as easily, even, as did the college +girls. The women were always fussing about +lack of hotel requisites—like baths and electric +lights and maids to wait upon them. The men +complained of the food and the rude sleeping accommodations. +</p> +<p> +Ruth learned something right here: All the girls +from Ardmore save Rebecca Frayne and Ruth +herself came from wealthy families—and Rebecca +was used to every refinement of life. Yet the +Ardmores took the “roughing it” good-naturedly +and never worried their pretty heads about “maid +service” and the like. +</p> +<p> +Some of the film women, seeing Min Peters +about in her usual garb, undertook to treat her +superciliously. They did not make the mistake +twice. Min was perfectly capable of taking care +of herself, and she intended to be treated with respect. +Min was so treated. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +</p> +<p> +Helen Cameron was much amused by the attitude +her brother took toward the leading lady, +Hazel Gray. Miss Gray was not more than two +years older than the twins and when the film actress +had first become known to them Tom had +been instantly attracted. His case of boyish love +had been acute, but brief. +</p> +<p> +For six months the walls of his study at Seven +Oaks were fairly papered with pictures of Hazel +Gray in all manner of poses and characterizations. +The next semester Tom had gone in for well-known +athletes, not excluding many prize fighters, +and the pictures of Miss Gray went into the discard. +</p> +<p> +Now the young actress set out to charm Tom +again. He was the only young personable male +at Freezeout, save the actors themselves, and she +knew them. But Tom gave her just as much attention +as he did Min Peters, for instance, and no +more. +</p> +<p> +There was but one girl in camp to whom he +showed any special attention. He was always at +Ruth’s beck and call if she needed him. Tom +never put himself forward with Ruth, or claimed +more than was the due of any good friend. But +the girl of the Red Mill often told herself that +Tom was dependable. +</p> +<p> +She was not sure that she ever wanted her +chum’s brother to be anything more to her than +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +what he was now—a safe friend. She and Helen +had talked so much about “independence” and the +like that it seemed like sheer treachery to consider +for a moment any different life after college than +that they had planned. +</p> +<p> +Ruth was to write plays and sing. Helen was +to improve her violin playing and give lessons. +They would take a studio together in Boston—perhaps +in New York—and live the ideal life of +bachelor girls. Helen desired to support herself +just as much as Ruth determined to support herself. +</p> +<p> +“It is dependence upon man for daily bread and +butter that makes women slaves,” Helen declared. +And Ruth agreed—with some reservations. It +began to look to her as though all were dependent +upon one another in this world, irrespective of +sex. +</p> +<p> +However, Tom was one of those dependable +creatures that, if you wanted him, was right at +hand. Ruth let the matter rest at that and did +not disturb her mind much over questions of personal +growth and expansion, or over the woman +question. +</p> +<p> +Her thought, indeed, was so much taken up with +the picture that was being made that she had little +time to bother with anything else. She almost forgot +the lame young man in the distant cabin and +ceased to wonder as to who his companion might +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span> +be. She certainly had quite forgotten the specimens +of ore which had been sent to the Handy +Gulch assayer’s office until unexpectedly the report +arrived. +</p> +<p> +Helen and Jennie, as well as Peters and his +daughter, were interested in this event. The others +of the Ardmore party had only heard of the +supposed find and had not even seen the uncovered +bit of ledge from which the ore had been taken. +</p> +<p> +“Why, perhaps we are all rich!” breathed Jennie +Stone. “Beyond the dreams of avarice! How +much does he say?” +</p> +<p> +“One hundred and thirty-three dollars to the +ton. And it’s ‘free gold,’” declared Ruth. “It +can be extracted by the cyaniding process. That +can be done on the spot, and cheaply. Where +there is much sulphide in the ore the gold must be +extracted by the hydro-electric process.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness, Ruth! How did you learn so +much?” gasped Helen. +</p> +<p> +“By using my tongue and ears. What were they +given us for?” +</p> +<p> +“To taste nice things with and drape ‘spit-curls’ +over,” giggled Jennie. +</p> +<p> +They went to Peters and Min and displayed the +report. The old prospector could have given +the thing away in the exuberance of his joy if it +had not been for the good sense his daughter displayed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span> +</p> +<p> +“Hush up, Pop,” she commanded. “You want +to put all these bum actors on to the strike before +we’ve laid out our own claims? We want to grab +off the cream of this find. You know it must be +rich.” +</p> +<p> +“Rich? Say, girl, rich ain’t no name for it. +I know what this Freezeout proposition was when +it was placer diggings. Where so much dust and +nuggets come from along a crick bed, we knowed +there must be a regular mother lode somewheres +here. Only we never supposed it was on that side +of the stream an’ so far away. It looked like the +old bed of the crick lay to the west. +</p> +<p> +“Well, we’ve got it! A hundred and thirty-three +dollars per ton at the grass-roots. Lawsy! +No knowin’ how deep the ledge is. An’ you ladies +only took specimens in one spot. We want +to take others clean acrosst the ledge—as far as +we kin trace it—git ’em assayed, then pick out the +best claims before any of these cheapskates +around here can ring in on it. Laugh at <em>me</em>, will +they? I reckon they’ll find out that Flapjack is +wuth something as a prospector after all.” +</p> +<p> +He quite overlooked the fact that the three college +girls had found the ore—and that somebody +had uncovered the ledge before them! But Min +did not forget these very pertinent facts. +</p> +<p> +“We got to get a hustle on us,” she announced. +“No knowin’ who ’twas that first opened that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span> +prospect, Pop. Mebbe he was green, or he ain’t +had his samples assayed yet. We got to get in +quick.” +</p> +<p> +“Sure,” agreed Flapjack. +</p> +<p> +“And the best three claims has got to go to +Miss Ruth and Miss Cam’ron and Miss Stone. +They found the place. You an’ I, Pop, ‘ll stake +out the next best claims. Then the rush kin come. +But we want to git more samples assayed first.” +</p> +<p> +“Is that necessary?” Ruth asked, quite as eager +as the others now. Somehow the gold hunting +fever gets into one’s blood and effervesces. It was +hard for any of them to keep their jubilation from +the knowledge of the whole camp. +</p> +<p> +“We dunno how long this ledge of gold-bearing +rock is,” Min explained. “Maybe we only struck +the poorest end of it. P’r’aps it’ll run two hundred +dollars or more to the ton at the other end. +We want to stake off our claims where the ore is +richest, don’t we?” +</p> +<p> +“Let’s stake it <em>all</em> off,” said Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Couldn’t hold it. Not by law. These big +minin’ companies git so many claims because they +buy up options from different locaters all along a +ledge. There’s ha’f a hundred claims belongs to +the Arepo Company, for instance, at one workin’s. +No. We’ve got to be careful and keep this secret +till we’re sure where the best of the ore lays.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, let’s go at once and see!” cried Jennie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +</p> +<p> +“We’ll go this afternoon,” Ruth said. “All five +of us.” +</p> +<p> +“I hope nobody will find the place before we +get there,” Helen observed. +</p> +<p> +“No more likely now than ’twas before,” Min +said sensibly. “Pop’ll sneak out a pick and shovel +for us, and meet us over there on the ridge.” +</p> +<p> +So it was arranged. But the three college girls +were so excited that they were scarcely fit for +either work or play. They set off eagerly into the +hills after lunch and met Flapjack and his daughter +as had been appointed. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span><a name='chXIX' id='chXIX'></a>CHAPTER XIX—SOMETHING UNEXPECTED</h2> +<p> +The old prospector was wild with joy. He had +already dug several holes down to the surface of +the ledge along the ridge north of the spot where +the first sample of gold-bearing rock had been secured. +He claimed that each spot showed an increase +in the amount of gold in the rock. +</p> +<p> +“It’s ha’f a mile long, I bet. An’ the farther +you go, the richer it gits. I tell you, we’re goin’ +all to be as rich as red mud! Whoop!” +</p> +<p> +“Hold in your hosses, Pop,” commanded Min, +sensibly. “Them folks down in camp may see you +prancin’ around here, and they’ll either think you +are crazy or know that you’ve struck pay dirt. +And we don’t want ’em in on this yet.” +</p> +<p> +“By mighty! Listen here, girl!” gasped the +old man. “We’re goin’ to be rich, you and me. +You’re goin’ to dress in the fanciest clo’es there +is. You’ll look a lot finer than that there leadin’ +lady actress girl. Believe me!” +</p> +<p> +“Now, Pop, be sensible!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +</p> +<p> +“You’re a-goin’ to be a lady,” declared Flapjack. +</p> +<p> +“Huh! Me, a lady, with them han’s?” and she +put forth both her calloused palms. “A fat chance +I got!” +</p> +<p> +With tears in her eyes Ruth Fielding said: +“Those hands have earned the right to be a +’lady’s’, Min. If there is gold here in quantity, +you shall be all that your father says.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course she shall!” cried the other college +girls in chorus. +</p> +<p> +“Well, it’ll kill me, I know that,” declared Min. +“I’d just about bust wide open with joy.” +</p> +<p> +Flapjack dug seven holes that afternoon, and +they took seven specimens of the rock with the +bright specks in it. The college girls thought they +could detect an increasing amount of gold in the +ore as they advanced up the ledge. +</p> +<p> +The old prospector insisted upon filling in each +hole as they went along and putting back the tufts +of bunch grass in order to make the place look as +it ordinarily did. Tiny numbered stakes driven +down into the loose and gravelly soil was all that +marked the places from which the specimens were +taken. Of course, the specimens themselves were +properly marked, too. +</p> +<p> +The gold seemed to be right at the grass-roots, +as Flapjack had said. He told them the ledge was +all of twenty yards wide, with the width increasing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +as the value of the ore increased. The full +length of the ledge was still unexplored, but the +depth of the vein of gold-bearing quartz was really +the “unknown dimension.” +</p> +<p> +“But we’re going to be rich, girls!” whispered +Jennie Stone, almost dancing, as they went back +to the camp at dusk. “Rich! why, I’ve always +been rich—or, my father has. I never thought +much about it. But to own a real gold mine oneself!” +</p> +<p> +The thought was too great for utterance. Besides, +they had agreed not to whisper about the +find at the camp. Not even Miss Cullam knew +that the report had come from the assayer regarding +the first specimen of ore the girls had found. +</p> +<p> +It was not hard to hide their excitement, for +there was so much going on at Freezeout Camp. +Mr. Grimes was trying to rush the work as much +as possible, for the picture actors were complaining +constantly regarding their trials and the manifold +privations of the situation. +</p> +<p> +The college girls and Ann Hicks, however, were +having the time of their lives. They dressed up +in astonishing apparel furnished by the film company +and posed as the female populace of Freezeout +Camp in some of the episodes. Min, in the +part Ruth had especially written for her, was a +pronounced success. Miss Gray, of course, as +she always did, filled the character of the heroine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span> +“to the queen’s taste”—and to Mr. Grimes’ satisfaction +as well, which was of much more importance. +</p> +<p> +The weather was just the kind the “sun worshippers” +delighted in. The camera man could +grind his machine for six hours a day or more. +The film of “The Forty-Niners” grew steadily. +</p> +<p> +Ruth had practically finished her part of the +work; but Rebecca Frayne was kept busy at her +typewriter during part of the day. Therefore, +Ruth easily got away from the sanctum sanctorum +the next forenoon and went up to the ridge again +with Flapjack and Min. +</p> +<p> +It had been settled that Helen and Jennie should +remain with the other girls and keep them from +wandering about on the easterly side of the stream. +</p> +<p> +Flapjack had been on the ridge since early light. +He was taking samples every few rods, and Min +was wrapping them up and marking the ore and +the stakes. Beyond a small grove of scrubby trees +they came in sight of what Flapjack declared was +probably the end of the gold-bearing rock. There +was a dip into another arroyo and beyond that a +mesquite jungle as far as they could see. +</p> +<p> +“Well, she’s more’n a ha’f a mile long,” sighed +the old prospector. “Ev’ry thing’s got to come +to an end in this world they say. We needn’t grow +bristles about it—— Great cats! What’s them?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Pop!” shrieked Min, “We ain’t here first.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span> +</p> +<p> +“What <em>are</em> those stakes?” asked Ruth, puzzled +to see that the peeled posts planted in the gravelly +soil should so disturb the equanimity of the prospector +and his daughter. +</p> +<p> +“Somebody’s ahead of us. Two claims staked,” +groaned Flapjack. “And layin’ over the best +streak of ore in the whole ledge, I bet my +hat!” +</p> +<p> +There were two scraps of paper on the posts. +Min ran forward to read the names upon them. +Flapjack rested on his pick and said no further +word. +</p> +<p> +Of a sudden Ruth heard the sharp ring of a +pony’s hoof on gravel. She turned swiftly to see +the pony pressing through the mesquite at the foot +of the ridge. Its rider urged the animal up the +slope and in a moment was beside them. +</p> +<p> +“What are you doing on my claim and my partner’s?” +the man demanded, and he slid out of his +saddle gingerly, slipping rude crutches under his +armpits as he came to the ground. He had one +foot bandaged, and hobbled toward Ruth and her +companions with rather a truculent air. +</p> +<p> +“What are you doing on my claim?” “the hermit” +repeated, and he was glaring so intently at +Flapjack that he did not see Ruth at all. +</p> +<p> +The prospector was smoking his pipe, and he +nearly dropped it as he stared in turn at this odd-looking +figure on crutches. It was easy enough to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +see that the claimant to the best options on Freezeout +ledge was a tenderfoot. +</p> +<p> +“Ain’t on your claim,” growled Peters at last. +</p> +<p> +“Well, that other fellow is,” declared “the hermit,” +“Let me tell you that my partner’s gone +to Kingman to have the claims recorded. They +are so by this time. If you try to jump ’em——” +</p> +<p> +“Who’s tryin’ to jump anything?” demanded +Min, now coming back from examining the notices +on the stakes. “Which are you—this here ‘E’ +or ‘R’yal?’” +</p> +<p> +“Royal is my name,” said the man, gruffly. +</p> +<p> +“Brothers, I s’pose?” said Min. +</p> +<p> +The young man stared at her wonderingly. “I +declare!” he finally exclaimed. “You’re a girl, +aren’t you?” +</p> +<p> +“No matter who or what I am,” said Min +Peters, tartly. “You needn’t think you can stake +out all this ledge just because you found it first—maybe.” +</p> +<p> +It was evident that both Flapjack and his daughter +considered the appearance of this claimant to +the supposedly richest options on the ledge most +unfortunate. +</p> +<p> +“I know my rights and the law,” said the young +man quite as truculently as before. “If it’s necessary +I’ll stay here and watch those stakes till my—my +partner gets back with the men and machinery +that are hired to open up these claims.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +</p> +<p> +“By mighty!” groaned Flapjack. “The hull +thing will be spread through Arizony in the shake +of a sheep’s hind laig.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, what of it? You can stake out claims +as we did,” snapped “the hermit.” “We are not +trying to hog it all.” +</p> +<p> +“These men you’re bringin’ ‘ll grab off the best +options and sell ’em to you. You’re Easterners. +You’re goin’ to make a showin’ and then sell the +mine to suckers,” said Min bitterly. “We know +all about your kind, don’t we, Pop?” +</p> +<p> +Peters muttered his agreement. Ruth considered +that it was now time for her to say another +word. +</p> +<p> +“I am sure,” she began, “that Mr.—er—Royal +will only do what is fair. And, of course, we want +no more than our rights.” +</p> +<p> +The man with the injured ankle looked at her +curiously. “I’m willing to believe what you say,” +he observed. “You have already been kind to me. +Though you didn’t come back to see me again. +But I don’t know anything about this man and this—er——” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Peters and her father,” introduced Ruth, +briskly, as she saw Min flushing hotly. “And they +must stake off their claims next in running to the +two you and your partner have staked.” +</p> +<p> +“No!” exclaimed Min, fiercely. “You and the +other two young ladies come first. Then pop and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span> +me. It puts us a good ways down the ledge; but +it’s only fair.” +</p> +<p> +The young man looked much worried. He said +suddenly: +</p> +<p> +“How many more of you are informed of the +existence of this gold ledge?” +</p> +<p> +“After my claim,” said Ruth, firmly, “I am going +to stake out one for Rebecca Frayne. She +needs money more than anybody else in our party—more +even than Miss Cullam. The others can +come along as they chance to.” +</p> +<p> +“Great Heavens!” gasped the young man. +“How many more of you are there? I say! I’ll +make you an offer. What’ll you-all take for your +claims, sight-unseen?” +</p> +<p> +“There! What did I tell you?” grumbled Min +Peters. “He’s one o’ them Eastern promoters +that allus want to skim the cream of ev’rything.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span><a name='chXX' id='chXX'></a>CHAPTER XX—THE MAD STALLION</h2> +<p> +Somehow Ruth Fielding could not find herself +subscribing to this opinion of “the hermit” so flatly +stated by Min Peters. She begged the prospector’s +daughter to hush. +</p> +<p> +“Let us not say anything to each other that we +will later be sorry for. Of course, we all understand—and +must admit—that the finding of this +gold-bearing ledge is a matter that cannot be long +kept from the general public.” +</p> +<p> +“Sure! There’ll be a rush,” growled Flapjack. +</p> +<p> +“And when this feller’s men git here they’ll hog +it all,” declared Min. +</p> +<p> +“They won’t hog our claims—not unless I’m +dead,” said her father violently. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, hush! hush!” cried Ruth again. “This is +no way to talk. We can stake out our claims and +the other girls can stake out theirs. You understand +we honestly found this ore just the same as +you and your partner did?” she added to the lame +young man. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +</p> +<p> +“I found it first,” he said, gloomily. “I found +it months ago——” +</p> +<p> +“Great cats!” broke in Flapjack. “Why didn’t +you file on it, then, and git started?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Mr. Royal,” said Ruth, puzzled. “Why +the delay?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, you see, I hadn’t any money. I had to +write to—to my partner. Ahem! I had to get +money through my partner. I was afraid to file +on the claim for fear the news would spread and +the whole ridge be overrun with prospectors before +I could be sure of mine.” +</p> +<p> +“And what you considered yours was the cream +of it all,” repeated Min, quickly. +</p> +<p> +“Well! I found it, didn’t I?” he demanded. +</p> +<p> +“We were going to do the same thing ourselves,” +Ruth said. “Let us be fair, Min.” +</p> +<p> +“But this feller means to git it all,” snapped the +prospector’s daughter, nodding at “the hermit.” +</p> +<p> +“It means a lot to me—this business,” the young +man muttered. “More than I can tell you. <em>It +means everything to me</em>.” +</p> +<p> +He spoke so earnestly that the trio felt uncomfortable. +Even Min did not seem able to ask another +personal question. Her father drawled: +</p> +<p> +“Seems to me I seen you ’round Yucca, didn’t +I, Mister?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. I stayed there for a while. With a man +named Braun.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span> +</p> +<p> +“Yep. Out on the trail to Kaster.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” said “the hermit.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” ejaculated Ruth, suddenly. “Was his +rural delivery box number twenty-four?” +</p> +<p> +“What?” asked “the hermit.” “Yes, it was.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth opened her lips again; then she shut them +tightly. She would not speak further of this subject +before Flapjack and Min. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” the latter said irritably. “No use +standin’ here all day. We’re goin’ to stake out +them claims and put up notices. And we don’t +want ’em teched, neither.” +</p> +<p> +“If mine are not touched you may be sure I shall +not interfere with yours,” said the young man +stiffly, turning his back on them and hobbling to +his waiting pony. +</p> +<p> +Ruth wanted to say something else to him; then +she hesitated. Then the young man rode away, +the crutches dangling over his shoulder by a cord. +</p> +<p> +She left Peters and Min to stake out the claims, +having written the notices for her own, and for +Helen’s and Jennie’s and Rebecca Frayne’s claims +as well. It was agreed that nothing was to be said +at the camp about the find. As soon as she arrived +she took Helen and Jennie aside and warned them. +</p> +<p> +“As Min says, we’ll ‘button up our lips,’” Jennie +said. “Oh, I can keep a secret! But who will +go to Kingman to file on the claims?” +</p> +<p> +That was what was puzzling Ruth. Flapjack, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +who knew all about such things—and knew the +shortest trail, of course—was not to be trusted. +He had money in his pocket and as Min said, a +little money drove the man to drink. +</p> +<p> +“And Min can’t go. She is needed in several +further scenes of the picture,” groaned Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“I tell you what,” Helen said eagerly, “we have +just got to take one other person into our confidence.” +</p> +<p> +“You are right,” agreed Ruth. “I know whom +you mean, Nell. Tom, of course.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Tom is perfectly safe,” said Helen. “He +won’t even go up there and stake out a claim for +himself if I tell him not to. But he <em>will</em> rush to +Kingman and file on our claims.” +</p> +<p> +“And take these specimens of ore to the assayer,” +put in Ruth. +</p> +<p> +It was so agreed, and when Min and her father +reappeared at the camp the suggestion was made +to them. Evidently the Western girl had been +much puzzled about this very thing and she hailed +the suggestion with acclaim. +</p> +<p> +“Seems to me I ought to be the one to file on +them claims,” Flapjack said slowly. “And takin’ +one more into this thing means spreadin’ it out +thinner.” +</p> +<p> +“I wouldn’t trust you to go to Kingman with +money in your pocket,” declared his daughter +frankly. “You know, Pop, you said long ago that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +if ever you did strike it rich you was goin’ to be +a gentleman and cut out all the rough stuff.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s right,” admitted Mr. Peters. “Me for +a plug hat and a white vest with a gold watchchain +across it, and a good <em>seegar</em> in my mouth. Yes, +sir! That’s me. And a feller can’t afford to git +’toxicated and roll ’round the streets with them +sort of duds on—no sir! If this is my lucky strike +I’ve sure got to live up to it.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth wondered if clothes were going to make +such a vast difference to both Min and her father. +Yet lesser things than clothes have been elements +of regeneration in human lives. +</p> +<p> +However, it was agreed that Tom must be +taken into the gold hunters’ confidence. He was +certainly surprised and wanted to rush right over +to look at the ridge. But they showed him the +gold-bearing ore instead and he had to be satisfied +with that. +</p> +<p> +For time was pressing. “The hermit’s” partner +might return with a crowd of hired workers and +trouble might ensue. Without doubt Royal and +his mate had intended to open the entire length of +the ledge and gain possession of it. The mining +law made it imperative that the claims should be +of a certain area and each claim must be worked +within so many months. But there are ways of +circumventing the law in Arizona as well as in +other places. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +</p> +<p> +“I wonder who that partner of the lame fellow +is?” Ruth murmured, as they were talking it over +while Tom Cameron was making his preparations +for departure. +</p> +<p> +“Same name as R’yal,” said Min, briefly. +“Must be brothers.” +</p> +<p> +This statement rather puzzled Ruth. It certainly +dissipated certain suspicions she had gained +from her visits to the cabin in the distant arroyo, +where “the hermit” lived. +</p> +<p> +Tom left the camp before night, carrying a +good map of the trails to the north as far as Kingman. +He was supposed to be going on some private +errand for himself, and as he had no connection +at all with the moving picture activities his departure +was scarcely noted. +</p> +<p> +Besides, Mr. Grimes and the actors were just +then preparing for one of the biggest scenes to be +incorporated in the film of “The Forty-Niners.” +This was the hold-up of the wagon train by Indians +and it was staged on the old trail leading +south out of Freezeout. +</p> +<p> +The wagons that had carted the paraphernalia +over from Yucca had tops just like the old emigrant +wagons in ‘49. There were only a few real +Indians in Mr. Grimes’ company; but some of the +cowboys dressed in Indian war-dress. For picture +purposes there seemed a crowd of them when the +action took place. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +</p> +<p> +Everybody went out to see the film taken, and +the fight and massacre of the gold hunters seemed +very realistic. Indeed, one part of it came near to +being altogether too realistic. +</p> +<p> +One of the punchers working with the company +had announced before that there was either a +bunch of wild horses in the vicinity, or a lone stallion +strayed from some ranch. The horse in +question had been sighted several times, and its +hoofprints were often seen within half a mile of +Freezeout. +</p> +<p> +The girls, while riding in a party through the +hills, had spied the black and white creature, standing +on a pinnacle and gazing, snorting, down upon +the bridled ponies. The lone horse seemed to be +attracted by those of his breed, yet feared to approach +them while under the saddle. And, of +course, the horses of the outfit were all picketed +near the camp. +</p> +<p> +In the midst of the rehearsal of the Indian hold-up, +when the emigrant’s ponies were stampeded +by the redskins, the lone horse appeared and, +snorting and squealing, tried to join the herd of +tame horses and lead them away. +</p> +<p> +“It’s an ‘old rogue’ stallion, that’s what it is,” +Ben Lester, one of the real Indians remarked. He +had been to Harvard and had come back to his +family in Arizona to straighten out business affairs, +and was waiting for the Government to untangle much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span> +red tape before getting his share +of the Southern Ute grant. +</p> +<p> +“He acts like he was locoed to me,” declared +Felix Burns, the horse wrangler, who, much to his +disgust, had to “act in them fool pitchers” as well +as handle the stock for the outfit. “Looky there! +If he comes for you, beat him off with your quirts. +A bite from him might send man or beast jest as +crazy as a mad dog.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you mean that the stallion is really mad?” +asked Ruth, who was riding near the Indians, but, +of course, out of the focus of the camera. +</p> +<p> +“Just as mad as a dog with hydrophobia—and +just as dangerous,” declared Ben. “You ladies +keep back. We may have to beat the brute off. +He’s a pretty bird, but if he’s locoed, he’d better +be dead than afoot—poor creature.” +</p> +<p> +The strangely acting stallion did not come near +enough, however, for the boys to use their quirts. +Nor did he bite any of the loose horses. He +seemed to have an idea of leading the pack astray, +that was all; and when the ponies were rounded +up the stallion disappeared again, whistling shrilly, +over the nearest ridge. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span><a name='chXXI' id='chXXI'></a>CHAPTER XXI—A PERIL OF THE SADDLE</h2> +<p> +Helen and Jennie, as they had promised, kept +away from the ridge where the gold-bearing rock +had been found. But the next afternoon when +Ruth went for a gallop over the hills she chose a +direction that would bring her around to the rear +of the ledge. +</p> +<p> +She left her pony and climbed the hill on foot. +For some distance along the length of the ledge +and toward what was believed to be the richer end, +Flapjack and Min had staked out the claims. +They followed the two staked by the lame young +man and his partner, and “R. Fielding” was on the +notice stuck up on the one next to the claims of the +mysterious young man and his partner. +</p> +<p> +“Well, nobody’s disturbed them, that is sure. +Tom is pounding away just as fast as he can go +for Kingman. Dates and time mean much in establishing +mining claims, I believe. But if Tom +gets to the county office and files on these claims +before this other party can get on the site to jump +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span> +them—if that is what they really mean to do—in +the end we ought to be able to get judgment in the +courts.” +</p> +<p> +Yet, somehow, she could not believe that “the +hermit” was the sort of man who would do anything +crooked. Satisfied that none of the stakes +had been disturbed she returned to her pony and +started him into the east again. +</p> +<p> +In a few moments she found herself following +that half-defined path that she had ridden on the +day she had first seen the secret cabin and the lame +man in it. She had never mentioned this adventure +to any of the girls. Ruth was, by nature, cautious +without being really secretive. And when a +second person was a party to any secret she was +not the girl to chatter. +</p> +<p> +She hesitated, if the pony did not, in following +this route. Half a dozen times she might have +pulled out and taken a side turn, or ridden into +another arroyo and so escaped seeing that hidden +cabin again. +</p> +<p> +It must be confessed, however, that Ruth Fielding +was curious. Very curious indeed. And she +had reason to be. The gymnasium cap she had +seen in “the hermit’s” cabin pointed to a most astounding +possibility. She had not believed in the +first place that “the hermit” was entirely alone in +this wild and lonely spot. Now he had admitted +the existence of a partner. Who was it? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +</p> +<p> +She was deep in thought as her pony carried her +at an easy canter down into the arroyo at the far +end of which the cabin stood. Suddenly her mount +lifted his head and challenged. +</p> +<p> +“Whoa! what’s the matter with you? What +are you squealing at?” demanded Ruth, tightening +her grasp on the reins. +</p> +<p> +She glanced around and saw nothing at first. +Then the pony squealed again, and as it did so +there came an answering equine hail from the mesquite. +There was a crash in the bushes; then out +upon the open ground charged the lone stallion +that had the day before troubled the picture making +company. +</p> +<p> +There was good blood in the handsome brute. +He was several hands higher than the cow pony, +and his legs were as slender and shapely as a Morgan’s. +His muzzle was as glossy as satin; his nostrils +a deep red and he blew through them and expanded +them with ears pricked forward and yellow +teeth bared—making altogether a striking +picture, but one that Ruth Fielding would much +rather have seen on the screen than here in reality. +</p> +<p> +She raised her quirt and brought it down upon +her pony’s flank. He sprang forward under the +lash but was not quick enough to escape the mad +stallion. That brute got directly in the path and +they collided. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +</p> +<p> +Ruth was almost unseated, while the clashing +teeth of the free horse barely grazed her legging. +He snapped again at the rump of the plunging +pony, but missed. +</p> +<p> +The girl was seriously frightened. What Ben +Lester and the other cowpuncher had said about +the stallion seemed to be true. Did he have hydrophobia +just the same as a dog that runs mad? +</p> +<p> +Whether the beast was afflicted with the rabies +or not, Ruth did not want either herself or the +pony bitten. She had seen enough of half-tamed +horses on Silver Ranch in Montana to know that +there is scarcely an animal more savage than a +wild stallion. +</p> +<p> +And if this black and white beast had eaten of +the loco weed which, in some sections of the Southwest +is quite common, he was much more dangerous +than the bear Min Peters had shot as they +came over from Yucca. +</p> +<p> +She tried to start her pony along the bottom of +the arroyo on the back track; but the squealing +stallion had got around behind them and again +charged with open jaws, the froth flying from his +curled-back lips. +</p> +<p> +So she wheeled her mount, clinging desperately +with her knees to his heaving sides, and once more +lashed him with the quirt. +</p> +<p> +Since she had ridden him that first day out of +Yucca Ruth had been in the saddle almost every +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +day since; but so far she had never had occasion +to use the whip on her pony. He was a spirited +bit of horseflesh, not much more than half the +size of the stallion. The quirt embittered him. +</p> +<p> +Although he wheeled to run, facing down the +arroyo again, he began to buck instead. His heels +suddenly were thrown out and just grazed the stallion’s +nose, while Ruth came close to flying out of +her saddle and over his head. +</p> +<p> +If she was once unhorsed Ruth suddenly realized +that her fate would be sealed. The stallion +rose up on his hind legs, squealing and whistling, +and struck at her with his sharp hoofs. +</p> +<p> +It was a moment of grave peril for Ruth +Fielding. +</p> +<p> +Again and again she beat her mount, and again +and again he went up into the air, landing stiff-legged, +and with all four feet close together. Then +she swung the stinging lash across the face of the +stallion. +</p> +<p> +It was a cruel blow and it laid open the satiny, +black skin of the angry brute right across his nose. +He squealed and fell back. The pony whirled and +again Ruth struck at their common enemy. +</p> +<p> +Lashing the stallion seemed a better thing than +punishing her own frightened mount, and as the +mad horse circled her the girl struck again and +again, once cutting open the stallion’s shoulder +and drawing blood in profusion. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span> +</p> +<p> +The fight was not won so easily, however. The +pony danced around and around trying to keep his +heels to the stallion; the latter endeavored to get +in near enough to use either his fore-hoofs in striking, +or his teeth to tear the girl or her mount. +</p> +<p> +And then Ruth unexpectedly heard a shout. +Somebody at the top of his voice ordered her to +“Lie down on his neck—I’m going to fire!” +</p> +<p> +She saw nothing; she had no idea where this +prospective rescuer stood; but she was wise enough +to obey. She seized the pony’s mane and lay as +close to his neck as possible. The next instant the +report of a heavy rifle drowned even the squealing +of the stallion. +</p> +<p> +He had risen on his hind feet, his fore-hoofs +beating the air, the foam flying from his lips, his +yellow teeth gleaming. A more frightful, threatening +figure could scarcely be imagined, it seemed +to the girl of the Red Mill in her dire peril. +</p> +<p> +At the rifle shot he toppled over backward, +crashing to the earth with a scream that was almost +human. There he lay on his back for a minute. +</p> +<p> +Out of the brush hobbled the young man named +Royal. He was getting around without his +crutches now. The gun in his hand was still smoking. +</p> +<p> +“Have you a rope?” he shouted. “If you have +I’ll noose him.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span> +</p> +<p> +“No. I haven’t a rope, though Ann is always +telling me never to ride without one in this country.” +</p> +<p> +“I think she’s right—whoever Ann is,” said the +young man, with that humorous twist to his features +that Ruth so liked. “A rope out here is +handier than a little red wagon. Come on, quick! +I only creased that stallion. He may not have +had the fight all taken out of him—the ferocious +beast!” +</p> +<p> +The black and white horse was already trying +to struggle to his feet. Perhaps he was not badly +hurt. Ruth controlled her pony, and he was +headed down the arroyo. +</p> +<p> +“Where is your horse, Mr. Royal?” she asked +the lame young man. +</p> +<p> +He started and looked a little oddly at her when +she called him that; but he replied: +</p> +<p> +“My horse is down at the cabin. I was just +trying my legs a little. Glory! I almost turned +my ankle again that time.” +</p> +<p> +He was hobbling pretty badly now, for he had +been too excited while shooting the mad stallion +to be careful of his lame ankle. Ruth was out of +the saddle in a moment. +</p> +<p> +“Get right up here,” she commanded. “We’ll +get to your cabin and be safe. I can go back to +camp by another way.” +</p> +<p> +“Not alone,” he declared, firmly, as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +scrambled into her place on the pony. “I’ll ride +with you. That beast is not done for yet.” +</p> +<p> +But the stallion did not pursue them. He stood +rather wabblingly and shook his head, and turned +in slow circles as though he were dazed. The rifle +shot had not, however, permanently injured him. +</p> +<p> +They were quickly out of the sight of the scene +of Ruth’s peril. The young man looked down at +her, trudging hot and dusty beside the pony, and +his face crinkled into a broad smile again. +</p> +<p> +“You’re some girl,” he said. “I’d dearly love +to know your name and just who you are. My—That +is, my partner says you are a bunch of movie +actors over there at Freezeout. But, of course, +that old-timer who was up on the ridge and the girl +in—er—overalls, were not actors. How about +you?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” said Ruth, amusedly. “I act. Sometimes.” +</p> +<p> +“Get out!” +</p> +<p> +“I did. Out of my saddle to give you my seat. +You should be more polite.” +</p> +<p> +He burst into open laughter at this. “You’re +all right,” he declared. “Do you mind telling me +your name?” +</p> +<p> +“Fielding. Miss Fielding, Mr. Royal.” +</p> +<p> +He grinned at her wickedly. “You’ve got only +half of <em>my</em> name,” he said. +</p> +<p> +“Indeed?” she cried. “Yes, I suppose, like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span> +other people, you must have a first name.” +</p> +<p> +“I have a last name,” he chuckled. +</p> +<p> +“What?” Ruth gasped. “Isn’t Royal——” +</p> +<p> +“That is what I was christened. Phelps is the +rest of it—Royal Phelps.” +</p> +<p> +“I knew it! I felt it!” declared Ruth, stopping +in the trail and making the pony stop, too. “You +are Edith Phelps’ brother. I was puzzled as I +could be, for I believed, since the first day I met +you, that must be so and that she had been with +you at that cabin.” +</p> +<p> +“Why,” he asked curiously, “how did you come +to know my sister?” +</p> +<p> +“Go to college with her,” said Ruth, shortly, +and moving on again. “And she was on the train +with us coming West.” +</p> +<p> +“And you did not know where she was coming? +Of course not! It was a secret.” +</p> +<p> +“She knew where <em>we</em> were coming,” said Ruth, +briefly. +</p> +<p> +“Then you’re not a movie actress?” +</p> +<p> +“I’m a freshman at Ardmore. But I do act—once +in a while. There are a party of us girls +from Ardmore, with one of the teachers, roughing +it at Freezeout Camp. The movie people +are there, too. We are acquainted with them.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’m mighty sorry my sister isn’t +here——” +</p> +<p> +“Is she your partner, Mr. Phelps?” Ruth asked. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +</p> +<p> +“Sure thing! And a bully good one. When I +was hurt and couldn’t ride so far, she set off alone +to find her way over the trails to Kingman.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” Ruth cried. “Aren’t you worried about +her? Have you heard——?” +</p> +<p> +“Not a word. But it isn’t time yet. Edith is a +smart girl,” declared the brother with confidence. +“She’ll make it all right. I don’t expect her back +for a week yet.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! but we expect Tom——” +</p> +<p> +“What Tom?” asked Phelps, suspiciously. +</p> +<p> +“My chum’s brother. He started—started day +before yesterday—for Kingman to file on our +claims. We expect him back in ten days, or two +weeks at the longest. Why, we shall probably be +all through taking the pictures by that time!” +</p> +<p> +“Look here, Miss Fielding,” said the young +man, his face suddenly gloomy. “Can’t you fix it +so we can buy up your claims along that ridge? It +means a lot to me.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Mr. Phelps!” exclaimed Ruth, “don’t +you suppose it means something to the rest of +us? If it is really a valuable gold deposit.” +</p> +<p> +“Not what it means to me,” he returned +soberly, and rode in silence the rest of the way to +the cabin. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span><a name='chXXII' id='chXXII'></a>CHAPTER XXII—RUTH HEARS SOMETHING</h2> +<p> +Ruth Fielding was particularly interested in +the situation of “the hermit,” Edith Phelps’ +brother. But she was not deeply enough interested +in him or in his desires to give up her own +expectation from the gold-bearing ledge on the +ridge. +</p> +<p> +She remembered very clearly what Helen Cameron +had told her about this young Royal Phelps. +She had not known his name, of course, and the +fact that Min Peters that day on the ridge had +not explained fully what Royal’s last name was, +had caused the girl some further puzzlement. +</p> +<p> +The character the tale about Edith’s brother +had given that young man did not seem to fit this +“hermit” either. This fellow seemed so gentlemanly +and so amusing, that she could scarcely believe +him the worthless character he was pictured. +Yet, his presence here in the wilds, and Edith’s +coming out to him so secretly, pointed to a mystery +that teased the girl of the Red Mill. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span> +</p> +<p> +When they came to the cabin door, and Royal +Phelps slid carefully out of her saddle, Ruth said +easily: +</p> +<p> +“I wish you’d tell me all about yourself, Mr. +Phelps. I am curious—and frank to say so.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t blame you,” he admitted, smiling suddenly +again—and Ruth thought that smile the +most disarming she had ever seen. Royal Phelps +might have been disgraced at college, but she believed +it must have been through his fun-loving +disposition rather than because of any viciousness. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t blame you for feeling curiosity,” the +young man repeated, seating himself gingerly in +the doorway. “If I had a chair I’d offer it to +you, Miss Fielding.” +</p> +<p> +“Thanks. I’ll hop on my pony. I’ll get yours +for you before I go.” +</p> +<p> +“Wait a bit,” he urged. “I am going with you +when you return to that town. That wild beast of +a horse may be rampaging around again.” +</p> +<p> +“Ugh!” ejaculated Ruth with no feigned shudder. +“He was awful!” +</p> +<p> +“Now you’ve said something! But you are a +mighty cool girl, Miss Fielding. What Edie +would have done——” +</p> +<p> +“She would have done quite as well as I, I have +no doubt,” Ruth hastened to say. “And I have +been in the West before, Mr. Phelps.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span> +</p> +<p> +“Yes? You are really a movie actor?” +</p> +<p> +“Sometimes.” +</p> +<p> +“And a college girl?” +</p> +<p> +“Always!” laughed his visitor. +</p> +<p> +“I believe you are puzzling me intentionally.” +</p> +<p> +“I told you that I was puzzled about you.” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose so,” he laughed. “Well, tit for tat. +You tell me and I’ll tell you.” +</p> +<p> +“I trust to your honor,” she said, with mock +seriousness. “I will tell you my secret. Really, +I am not a movie actress—save by brevet.” +</p> +<p> +“I thought not!” he exclaimed with warmth. +</p> +<p> +“Why, they are very nice folk!” Ruth told him. +“Much nicer than you suppose. I am really writing +the scenario Mr. Hammond is producing.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” he exclaimed. “A literary person?” +</p> +<p> +“Exactly.” +</p> +<p> +“But why didn’t Edie tell me something about +you? She went over there and took a peep at +you.” +</p> +<p> +“I fancied so. The girls thought her an Indian +squaw. That would please Edie—if I know her +at all,” said Ruth with sarcasm. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll have to tell her,” he grinned. +</p> +<p> +“Better not. She does not like us any too well. +Us freshmen, I mean. You know,” Ruth decided +to explain, “there is an insurmountable wall between +freshmen and sophs.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +</p> +<p> +“I ought to know,” murmured Royal Phelps, +and his face clouded. +</p> +<p> +Ruth, determined to get to the root of this mysterious +matter, thrust in a deep probe: “I believe +you have been to college, Mr. Phelps?” +</p> +<p> +He reddened to his ears. “Oh, yes,” he answered +shortly. +</p> +<p> +“And then did you come out here to go into the +mining business?” she continued, with some +cruelty, for he was writhing. +</p> +<p> +“After the pater put me out—yes,” he said, +looking directly at her now, even though his face +flamed. +</p> +<p> +Ruth was doubly assured that Royal Phelps +could not be as black as he was painted. +“Though I do not believe any painter could reflect +the Italian sunset hue that now mantles his +brow,” she thought. +</p> +<p> +“I am sorry that you have had trouble with +your father. Is it insurmountable?” she asked +him quietly, and with the air that always gave +even strangers confidence in Ruth Fielding. +</p> +<p> +“I hope not,” he admitted. “I was mad enough +when I came away. I just wanted to ‘show him.’ +But now I’d like to <em>show him</em>. Do—do you get +me?” +</p> +<p> +“There is no difference in the words, but a +great deal in the inflection, Mr. Phelps,” Ruth said +quietly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well. You’re an understandable girl. After +I had come a cropper at Harvard—silly thing, +too, but made the whole faculty wild,” and here +he grinned like a naughty small boy at the remembrance—“the +pater said I wasn’t worth the powder +to blow me to Halifax. And I guess he was +right. But he’d not given me a chance. +</p> +<p> +“Said I’d never done a lick of work and probably +wouldn’t. Said I was cut out for a rich man’s +wastrel or a tramp. Said I shouldn’t be the first +with <em>his</em> money. Told James to show me the +outer portal with the brass plate on it, and bring +in the ‘welcome’ mat so that I wouldn’t stand there +and think it meant <em>me</em>. +</p> +<p> +“So I came away from there,” finished Royal +Phelps with a wry face. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that was terrible!” Ruth declared with +clasped hands and all the sympathy that the most +exacting prodigal could expect. “But, of course, +he didn’t mean it.” +</p> +<p> +“Mean it? You don’t know Costigan Phelps. +He never says anything he doesn’t mean. Let me +tell you it won’t be a slippery day when I show up +at the paternal mansion. The pater certainly will +not run out and fall on either my neck or his own. +There’ll be nobody at the home plate to see me +coming and hail me: ‘Kill the fatted prodigal; +here comes the calf!’ Believe me!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Phelps!” begged Ruth. “Don’t talk +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +that way. I know just how you feel. And you are +trying to hide it——” +</p> +<p> +“With airy persiflage—yes,” he admitted, turning +serious. “Well, pater’s made a lot of money +in mines. I said to Edie: ‘I’ll shoot for the West +and locate a few and so attract his attention to +the Young Napoleon of mines in his own field.’ It +looked easy.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course,” whispered Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“But it wasn’t.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course again,” and the girl smiled. +</p> +<p> +“Grin away. It helps <em>you</em> to bear it,” scoffed +Royal Phelps. “But it doesn’t help the ‘down and +outer’ a bit to grin. I know. I’ve tried it ever +since last fall.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” +</p> +<p> +“I finally got to rummaging out through these +hills. I came with a party of sheep herders. You +know the Prodigal Son only herded hogs. <em>That’s</em> +an aristocratic game out here in the West beside +sheep herding. Believe me! +</p> +<p> +“It puts a man in the last row when he fools +with sheep. When I went down to Yucca nobody +would have anything to do with me but old Braun. +And he was owning sheep right then. +</p> +<p> +“If I went into a place the fellows would hold +their noses and tiptoe out. You know, it’s a joke +out here: A couple of fellows made a bet as to +which was the most odoriferous—a sheep or a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +Greaser. So they put up the money and selected +a judge. +</p> +<p> +“They brought the sheep into the judge’s cabin +and the judge fainted. Then they brought in the +Greaser and the sheep fainted. So, you see, aside +from Greasers, I didn’t have many what you’d call +close friends.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth’s lips formed the words “Poor boy!” but +she would not have given voice to them for the +world. Still, for some reason, Royal Phelps, who +was looking directly at her, nodded his head gratefully. +</p> +<p> +“Tough times, eh? Well, I’d seen something +up here in these hills. I’d been studying about +mineral deposits—especially gold signs. I saved +enough money to get a small outfit and this pony +I ride. I’d brought my gun on from the East. I +started out prospecting with scarcely a grubstake. +But nobody around here would have trusted a +tenderfoot like me. I was bound to do it on my +lonely, if I did it at all.” +</p> +<p> +“Weren’t you afraid to start off alone?” asked +Ruth. “Mr. Peters says it is dangerous for <em>one</em> +to go prospecting.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. But lots of the old-timers do. And this +‘new-timer’ did it. Nothing bit me,” he added +dryly. +</p> +<p> +“So I came back here and knocked up this +cabin. Pretty good for ‘mamma’s baby boy,’ isn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +it?” and he laughed shortly. “That’s what some +of the Lazy C punchers called me when I first +came into their neighborhood. +</p> +<p> +“Well, mamma’s boy played a lone hand and +found that ledge of gold ore. For it is gold I +know. I had some specimens assayed.” +</p> +<p> +“So did we,” confessed Ruth, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +He scowled again. “You girls—movie actresses, +college girls, or whoever you are—are +likely to queer this whole business for me. Say!” +he added, “that one in the overalls isn’t an Ardmore +freshman, is she?” +</p> +<p> +“Hardly,” laughed Ruth. “But she needs a +gold mine a good deal more than the rest of us +do.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span><a name='chXXIII' id='chXXIII'></a>CHAPTER XXIII—MORE OF IT</h2> +<p> +Royal Phelps continued very grave and silent +for a few moments after Ruth’s last statement. +Then he groaned. +</p> +<p> +“Well, it can’t be helped! None of you can +want that ledge of gold more than I do. That I +know. But, of course, your claims are perfectly +legitimate. It is a fact the men Edith will bring +out with her are under contract. I sent her to a +lawyer in Kingman who understands such things. +An agreement with the men covers all the claims +they may stake out on this certain ledge—dimensions +in contract, and all that. I wanted to start +the work, make a showing with reports of assayers +and all, then send it to a friend of mine in New +York who graduated from college last year and +went into his father’s brokerage shop, and he +would put shares in my mine on the market. With +the money, I hoped to develop and—Well! what’s +the use of talking about it? We’ll get our little +slice and that is all, if you girls and the other folks +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +that have staked claims hang on to your ownings.” +</p> +<p> +“Tell me how you came to get Edith into it?” +asked Ruth without commenting upon his statement. +</p> +<p> +“Why, she’s a good old sport, Edie is,” declared +the brother warmly. “She stood up to the +pater for me. She can do most anything with him. +But I’ve got to do something before he lets down +the bars to me, even for her sake. +</p> +<p> +“We kept in correspondence, Edie and I, all +through the winter. When I found this gold I +wrote her hotfoot. I did not dare file my claim. +It would cause comment and perhaps start a rush +this way.” +</p> +<p> +“I see.” +</p> +<p> +“And you can easily understand,” he chuckled, +“how startled Edie was when, as she told me, she +learned that several girls she knew were coming +out here to old Freezeout to work with some +movie people. Of course, she did not tell me just +who you were, Miss Fielding.” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose not.” +</p> +<p> +“No. Well, she was suspicious of you, she +said. Wanted to know just when you were coming +and how. She desired to get to Yucca as soon +as possible, but she had to spend some time with +the pater. Poor old chap! he thinks the world +and all of her—in his way. +</p> +<p> +“Well, she had to do some shopping in New +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span> +York, and went to a friend’s house. The chauffeur +who drove them around was a decent fellow +and she told him to keep a watch on the Delorphion +for you folks. You went there, didn’t you?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Ruth, remembering +Tom’s story. +</p> +<p> +“So did she—for one night. She took the same +train you did and an accident gave her some advantage. +I don’t think she was nice to that friend +of yours that she made tag on with her as far as +Handy, where I met her,” added Royal Phelps, +slowly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” was Ruth’s dry comment. +</p> +<p> +“But she was mighty secretive, you know,” +apologized the young man. “You see, we really +had to be.” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose so.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, that’s about all. Edie brought the +money. She has some of her own and the pater +gave her five thousand without asking a question. +She and I are really partners. We’re going to +show him—if we can.” +</p> +<p> +“I think it is fine of you, Mr. Phelps!” cried +Ruth, with enthusiasm. “And—and I think your +sister is a sister worth having.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you can bet she is!” he agreed. “Edie is +all right. I couldn’t begin to pull this off if it +were not for her. I expect the pater will say so +in the end. But if I can show some money for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +what I have done—a bunch of it—it will be all +right with him.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth made no further comment here. She saw +plainly that Royal Phelps’ father probably +weighed everybody and everything on the same +scales upon which precious metals are weighed. +</p> +<p> +“Now I’ll catch your pony, Mr. Phelps,” she +said. “If you want to ride back with me I’ll introduce +you to the girls and Miss Cullam.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s nice of you. Perfectly bully, you know. +Or, as they say out here, ‘skookum!’ But I guess +I’d better wait till Edie returns. Let her do the +honors. Besides, I am not at all sure that we +sha’n’t be enemies, Miss Fielding—worse luck.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, Mr. Phelps,” Ruth said warmly. +“Never <em>that!</em>” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know,” he grumbled, hobbling on his +crutches now while she walked toward the pony +that was trailing his picket-rope. “You see, I’m +pretty desperate about this gold strike. I’ve a +good mind to go up there on the ridge and pull +up all your stakes and throw ’em away.” +</p> +<p> +“I wouldn’t,” she advised, smiling at him. +“Mr. Flapjack Peters has what they call a ‘sudden’ +temper; and his daughter, we found out coming +over from Yucca, is a dead shot.” +</p> +<p> +“I want a big slice of that ledge,” said the young +man, sighing. “Enough to make a showing in the +Eastern share market.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span> +</p> +<p> +“Let us wait and see. You know, you might be +able to buy up us girls—three of us who hold the +next three claims to yours and your sister’s.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Would you do it?” he demanded, brightening +up. +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps. And we might wait for our money +till you got the mine to working on a paying basis,” +Ruth said seriously. “Besides, there is Min +Peters and her father. If you would take them +into your company, so that they would have an +income, Peters would be of great use to you, +Mr. Phelps.” +</p> +<p> +“Look here! I’ll do anything fair,” cried the +young man. “It isn’t that I am just after the +money for the money’s sake——” +</p> +<p> +“I understand,” she told him, nodding. “We’ll +talk about it later. After we get reports on the +ore that Peters took specimens of, all along the +ledge. But I am afraid your sister’s bringing +workmen up here will start a stampede to Freezeout.” +</p> +<p> +“What do we care, as long as we get ours?” he +cried, cheerfully. “Whew! The pater may think +I am some good after all, before this business is +over.” +</p> +<p> +They mounted their ponies and rode to the +camp. They followed the very route Ruth had +come, but did not see the wounded wild horse +again. Royal Phelps left her when they came in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +sight of Freezeout and Ruth rode down into the +camp alone. +</p> +<p> +She told the camp wrangler something about +her adventure and the next day he went out with +some of the Indians and punchers working for the +outfit, and they ran down the black and white stallion. +</p> +<p> +However, Ruth had less interest in the wild +stallion than she had in several other subjects. +She quietly told the girls and Miss Cullam now +about the possible discovery of a rich gold-bearing +ledge so near camp. The Ardmore’s were naturally +greatly excited. +</p> +<p> +“Stingy!” cried Trix Davenport. “Why not +tell us all before?” +</p> +<p> +“Because those who found it had first rights,” +Ruth said gravely. “I <em>did</em> stake out a claim for +Rebecca. And I think Miss Cullam comes next.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, girls! <em>Real gold?</em>” gasped the teacher, +while Rebecca was speechless with amazement. +</p> +<p> +There was certainly a small “rush” that evening +for the gold-bearing ledge. Miss Cullam staked +her claim and put up a notice next to Rebecca +Frayne. All the other Ardmore’s followed suit; +even Ann Hicks was bitten by the fever of gold +seeking. +</p> +<p> +They must have been watched, for not a few +of the actors began to stake out claims as best they +knew how and put up notices on the outskirts of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +the line along the summit of the ridge followed +by those first to know of the gold. +</p> +<p> +The Western men, the teamsters and others, +laughed at the whole business and tried to tease +Flapjack Peters; but they could get nothing out +of him. Then some of them saw samples of the +ore. The next morning found Freezeout Camp +almost abandoned. Everybody who had not already +done so was prowling around that half mile +ridge of land, trying to stake claims as near to the +top of the ledge as he could. +</p> +<p> +“And at that,” Min said gloomily, “some of +these fellers that caught on last may have the best +of it. We don’t know where the richest ore is +yet.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Hammond and his director were nearly beside +themselves. That day the company was so +distraught that not a foot of film was made. +</p> +<p> +“How can I tell these crazy gold hunters how +to act like <em>real</em> gold hunters?” growled Grimes. +</p> +<p> +“If other people come flocking in the whole +thing will be ruined,” groaned Mr. Hammond. +</p> +<p> +Ruth Fielding did not believe that. She began +to get a vision of what a real gold rush might +mean. If they could get a <em>bona fide</em> stampede on +the film she believed it would add a hundred per +cent. to the value of “The Forty-Niners.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span><a name='chXXIV' id='chXXIV'></a>CHAPTER XXIV—THE REAL THING</h2> +<p> +Freezeout Camp had awakened. Many of +the old shacks and cabins had been repaired and +made habitable for the purposes of the moving +picture company. The largest dance hall—“The +Palace of Pleasure” as it was called on the film—was +just as Flapjack Peters remembered it, back +in an earlier rush for placer gold to this spot. +</p> +<p> +Behind the rough bar, on the shelves, however, +were only empty bottles, or, at most, those filled +with colored water. Mr. Hammond had been +careful to keep liquor out of the rejuvenated camp. +</p> +<p> +Flapjack Peters began to look like a different +man. Whether it was his enforced abstinence +from drink, or the fact that he saw ahead the possibility +of wealth and the tall hat and white vest of +which he had dreamed, he walked erect and looked +every man straight in the eye. +</p> +<p> +“It gets me!” said Min to Ruth Fielding. “Pop +ain’t looked like this since I kin remember.” +</p> +<p> +Two days of this excitement passed. The motion picture +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +people “were getting down to earth +again,” as Mr. Grimes said, and the girls were +beginning to expect Tom Cameron’s return, when +one noon the head of a procession was seen advancing +through the nearest pass in the mountain +range to the west. As Ruth and others watched, +the procession began to wind down into the shallow +gorge where the long “petered-out” placer +diggings of Freezeout had been located, and where +the rejuvenated town itself still stood. +</p> +<p> +“What under the sun can these people want?” +gasped Mr. Hammond, the president of the +film-making company, to Ruth. +</p> +<p> +The girl of the Red Mill was in riding habit +and she had her pony near at hand. “I’ll ride up +and see,” she said. +</p> +<p> +But the instant she had sighted the first group +of hurrying riders and the first wagon, she believed +she understood. Word of the “strike” at +the old camp had in some way become noised +abroad. +</p> +<p> +Before Edith Phelps and the men she was to +hire, with the Kingman lawyer’s aid, reached the +ledge her brother had located, other people had +heard the news. These were the first of “the gold +rush.” +</p> +<p> +She spurred her horse up into the pass and ran +the pony half a mile before she turned him and +raced back to Mr. Hammond. She came with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +flying hair and rosy cheeks to the worried president, +bursting with an idea that had assailed her +mind. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Hammond! It is the greatest sight you +ever saw! Get the camera man and hurry right +up there to the mouth of the pass. Tell Mr. +Grimes——” +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean?” snapped the president of +the Alectrion Film Corporation. “Do you want +to disorganize my whole company again?” +</p> +<p> +“I want to show you the greatest moving picture +that ever was taken!” cried the girl of the Red +Mill. “Oh, Mr. Hammond, you <em>must</em> take it! +It must be incorporated in this film. Why! <em>it is the +real thing!</em>” +</p> +<p> +“What is that? A joke?” he growled. +</p> +<p> +“No joke at all, I assure you,” said Ruth, patiently. +“You can see them coming through the +pass—and beyond—for miles and miles. Men +afoot, on horseback, in all kinds of wagons, on +burros—oh, it is simply great! There are hundreds +and hundreds of them. Why, Mr. Hammond! +this Freezeout Camp is going to be a city +before night!” +</p> +<p> +The chief reason why Mr. Hammond was a +wealthy man and one of the powers in the motion +picture world was because he could seize upon a +new idea and appreciate its value in a moment. +He knew that Ruth was a sane girl and that she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +had judgment, as well as imagination. He gaped +at her for a moment, perhaps; the next he was +shouting for Mr. Grimes, for the camera men, for +the horse wrangler, and for the “call-boy” to +round up the company. +</p> +<p> +In half an hour a train set out for the pass, +which met the first of the advance guard of gold +seekers pouring down into the valley. The eager-faced +men of all ages and apparently of all walks +in life hurried on almost silently toward the spot +where they were told a ledge of free gold had been +found. +</p> +<p> +There were roughly dressed teamsters, herdsmen, +nondescripts; there were Mexicans and Indians; +there were well dressed city men—lawyers, +doctors, other professional men, perhaps. Afterward +Ruth read in an Arizona newspaper that +such a typical stampede to any new-found gold or +silver strike had not been seen in a decade. +</p> +<p> +A camera man set up his machine in a good spot +and waited for the whole film company to drift +along into the pass and join the real gold seekers +that streamed down toward Freezeout. +</p> +<p> +This idea of Ruth Fielding’s was the crowning +achievement of her work on this film. The company +came back to the cabins at evening, wearied +and dust-choked, to find, as Ruth had prophesied, +a veritable city on and near the creek. +</p> +<p> +The newcomers had rushed into the hills and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +staked out their claims, some of them on the very +fringe of the valley out of which the gold-bearing +ledge rose. Of course, many of these claims +would be worthless. +</p> +<p> +A lively buying and selling of the more worthless +claims was already under way. With the +stampede had come storekeepers and wagons of +foodstuffs. +</p> +<p> +That night nobody slept. Mr. Hammond, realizing +what this really meant, but feeling none of +the itch for digging gold that most of those on the +spot experienced, organized a local constabulary. +A justice of the peace was found with intelligence +enough, and enough knowledge of the state ordinance, +to act as magistrate. +</p> +<p> +The men were called together early in the morning +in the biggest dance hall and the vast majority—indeed, +it was almost unanimous—voted that +liquor selling be tabooed at Freezeout. +</p> +<p> +Several men of unsavory reputations who had +come, like buzzards scenting the carrion from +afar, were advised to leave town and stay away. +They met other men of their stripe on the trail +from Handy Gulch and other such places, and reported +that Freezeout was going to be run “on a +Sunday-school basis”; there was nothing in it for +the usual birds of prey that infest such camps. +</p> +<p> +In a few hours the party coming from Kingman +with Edith Phelps and the lawyer she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +engaged, arrived. The camp about the ridge grew +and expanded in every direction. Most of the +claimholders slept on their claims, fearing trickery. +Shafts were sunk. The Phelps crowd began +to set up a small crusher and cyaniding plant that +had been trucked over the trails. +</p> +<p> +The moving picture was finished at last, before +either Mr. Grimes or Mr. Hammond quite lost +their minds. Several of the men of the company +broke their contract with the Alectrion Film Corporation +and would remain at the diggings. They +believed their claims were valuable. +</p> +<p> +Tom had returned before this with reports from +the assayer and copies of the filing of the claims. +The specimen from Ruth’s claim showed one hundred +and eighty dollars to the ton. The ore from +Flapjack Peters and Min’s claims were, after all, +the richest of any of their party, though farther +down the ledge. The ore taken from those claims +showed two hundred dollars to the ton. +</p> +<p> +“We’re rich—or we’re goin’ to be,” Min declared +to the Ardmore girls and Miss Cullam, the +last night the Eastern visitors were to remain in +Freezeout. “That lawyer of R’yal Phelps is goin’ +to let pop have some money and we’re both goin’ +to send for clo’es—some duds! Wish you could +wait and see me togged up just like a Fourth o’ +July pony in the parade.” +</p> +<p> +“I wish we could, Min!” cried Jennie Stone. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +</p> +<p> +“You shall come East to visit me later,” Ruth +declared. “Won’t you, Min? We’ll all show you +a good time there.” +</p> +<p> +“As though you hadn’t showed me the best time +I ever had already,” choked the Yucca girl. “But +I’ll come—after I git used to my new clo’es.” +</p> +<p> +“Have you and your father really made a bargain +with Royal Phelps?” Miss Cullam asked, as +much interested in the welfare of the suddenly enriched +girl as her pupils. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Ma’am. Pop’s going to have an office in +the new company, too. And Mr. Phelps is goin’ +to git backin’ from the East and buy up all the +adjoinin’ claims that he can.” +</p> +<p> +“He’ll have all ours, in time,” said Helen. +“That’s lots better than each of us trying to develop +her little claim. Oh, that Phelps man is +smart.” +</p> +<p> +“And what about Edith?” demanded the honest +Ruth. “We’ve got to praise her, too.” +</p> +<p> +There was silence. Finally, Miss Cullam said +dryly: “She seems to have no very enthusiastic +friends in the audience, Miss Fielding.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, well,” Ruth said, laughing, “we none of +us like Edith.” +</p> +<p> +“How about liking her brother?” asked Jennie +Stone, and she seemed to say it pointedly. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span><a name='chXXV' id='chXXV'></a>CHAPTER XXV—UNCLE JABEZ IS CONVERTED</h2> +<p> +It was some months afterward. The growing +town of Cheslow had long since developed the +moving picture fever, and two very nice theatres +had been built. +</p> +<p> +One evening in the largest of these theatres +an old, gray-faced and grim-looking man sat beside +a very happy, pretty girl and watched the running +off of the seven-reel feature, “The Forty-Niners.” +</p> +<p> +If the old man came in under duress and +watched the first flashes on the screen with scorn, +he soon forgot all his objections and sat forward +in his seat to watch without blinking the scenes +thrown, one after another, on the sheet. +</p> +<p> +It really was a wonderfully fine picture. And +thrilling! +</p> +<p> +“Hi mighty!” ejaculated Uncle Jabez Potter, +unwillingly enough and under his breath in the +middle of the picture, “d’ye mean to say you done +all that, Niece Ruth?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +</p> +<p> +“I helped,” said Ruth, modestly. +</p> +<p> +“Why, it’s as natcheral as the stepstun, I swan!” +gasped the miller. “I can ‘member hearin’ many +of the men that went out there in the airly days +tell about what it was like. This is jest like they +said it was. I don’t see how ye did it—an’ you +was never born even, when them things was like +that.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t say that, Uncle Jabez,” Ruth declared. +“For I saw a little bit of the real thing. They +write me that Freezeout Camp has taken on a new +lease of life. Mr. Phelps says,” and she blushed +a little, but it was dark and nobody saw it, “that +we are all going to make a lot of money out of +the Freezeout Ledge.” +</p> +<p> +But Uncle Jabez Potter was not listening. He +was enthralled again in the picture of old days +in the mining country. It seemed as though, at +last, the old miller was converted to the belief that +his grand-niece knew a deal more than he had +given her credit for. To his mind, that she knew +how to make money was the more important thing. +</p> +<p> +The final flash of the film reflected on the screen +passed and Uncle Jabez and Ruth rose to go. It +was dark in the theatre and the girl led the old +man out by the hand. Somehow he clung to her +hand more tightly than was usually his custom. +</p> +<p> +“’Tis a wonderful thing, Niece Ruth, I allow,” +he said when they came out into the lamplight of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span> +Cheslow’s main street. “I—I dunno. You young +folks seems ter have got clean ahead of us older +ones. There’s things that I ain’t never hearn tell +of, I guess.” +</p> +<p> +Ruth Fielding laughed. “Why, Uncle Jabez,” +she said, “the world is just full of such a number +of things that neither of us knows much about that +that’s what makes it worth living in.” +</p> +<p> +“I dunno; I dunno,” he muttered. “Guess +you’ve got to know most of ’em now you’ve gone +to that college.” +</p> +<p> +“I am beginning to get a taste of some of them,” +she cried. “You know I have three more years +to spend at Ardmore before I can take a degree.” +</p> +<p> +“Huh! Wal, it don’t re’lly seem as though +knowin’ so <em>much</em> did a body any good in this +world. I hev got along on what little they +knocked inter my head at deestrict school. And +I’ve made a livin’ an’ something more. But I +never could write a movin’ picture scenario, that’s +true. And if there’s so much money in ’em——” +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Hammond writes me that he’s sure there +is going to be a lot of money in this one. The +State rights are bringing the corporation in thousands. +Of course, my share is comparatively +small; but I feel already amply paid for my six +weeks spent in Arizona.” +</p> +<p> +This, however, is somewhat ahead of the story. +Uncle Jabez’ conversion was bound to be a slow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +process. When the party returned from the West +the person gladdest to see Ruth Fielding was Aunt +Alvirah. +</p> +<p> +The strong and vigorous girl was rather +shocked to find the little old woman so feeble. +She did not get around the kitchen or out of doors +nearly as actively as had been her wont. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my back! an’ oh, my bones! Seems ter +me, my pretty,” she said, sinking into her rocking +chair, “that things is sort o’ slippin’ away from +me. I feel that I am a-growin’ lazy.” +</p> +<p> +“Lazy! You couldn’t be lazy, Aunt Alvirah,” +laughed the girl of the Red Mill. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes; I ‘spect I could,” said Aunt Alvirah, +nodding. “This here M’lissy your uncle’s hired +to help do the work, is a right capable girl. And +she’s made me lazy. If I undertake ter do a thing, +she’s there before me an’ has got it done.” +</p> +<p> +“You need to sit still and let others do the work +now,” Ruth urged. +</p> +<p> +“I dunno. What good am I to Jabez Potter? +He didn’t take me out o’ the poorhouse fifteen +year or more ago jest ter sit around here an’ play +lady. No, ma’am!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Aunty!” +</p> +<p> +“I dunno but I’d better be back there.” +</p> +<p> +“You’d better not let Uncle Jabez hear you say +so,” Ruth cried. “Maybe I don’t always know +just how Uncle Jabez feels about me; but I know +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +how he looks at <em>you</em>, Aunt Alvirah. Don’t dare +suggest leaving the Red Mill.” +</p> +<p> +The little old woman looked at her steadily, and +there were the scant tears of age in the furrows +of her face. +</p> +<p> +“I shall be leavin’ it some day soon, my pretty. +’Tis a beautiful place here—the Red Mill. But +there is a Place Prepared. I’m on my way there, +Ruthie. But, thanks be, I kin cling with one hand +to the happy years here because of you, while my +other hand’s stretched out for the feel of a Hand +that you can’t see, my pretty. After all, Ruthie, +no matter how we live, or what we do, our livin’ +is jest a preparation for our dyin’.” +</p> +<p> +Nor was this lugubrious. Aunt Alvirah was no +long-visaged, unhappy creature. The other girls +loved to call on her. Helen was at the Red Mill +this summer quite as much as ever. Jennie Stone +and Rebecca Frayne both visited Ruth after their +return from Freezeout Camp. +</p> +<p> +It was a cheerful and gay life they led. There +much much chatter of the happenings at Freezeout, +and of the work at the new gold mining camp. +Min Peters’ scrawly letters were read and re-read; +her pertinent comments on all that went on were +always worth reading and were sometimes actually +funny. +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p> +“I wish you could see pop,” she wrote once. “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span> +mean Mr. Henry James Peters. If ever there +was a big toad in a little puddle, it’s him! +</p> +<p> +“He’s got a hat so shiny that it dazzles you +when he’s out in the sun. It’s awful uncomfortable +for him to wear, I know. But he wouldn’t +give it up—nor the white vest and the dinky patent +leather shoes he’s got on right now—for all +the gold you could name. +</p> +<p> +“And I’m getting as bad. I sit around in a +flowery gown, and there’s a girl come here to work +in the hotel that’s trimming my nails and fixing my +hands up something scandalous. Man-curing, she +calls it. +</p> +<p> +“But the fine clothes has made another man of +pop; and I expect they’ll improve yours truly a +whole lot. When we get real used to them, sometime +we’ll come East and see you. I can pretty +near trust pop already to go into a rumhole here +without expecting to see him come out again orey-eyed. +</p> +<p> +“Not that he’s shown any dispersition to drink +again. He says his position is too important in +the Freezeout Ledge Gold Mining Company for +any foolishness. And I’ll tell you right now, he’s +the only member of the company now that that +Edie girl’s gone home that ever is dressed up on +the job. Mr. Phelps works like as though he’d +been used to it all his life. +</p> +<p> +“Let me tell you. <em>His</em> pop’s been out here to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +see him. ‘Looking over prospects’ he called it. +But you bet you it was to see what sort of a figure +his son was cutting here among sure-enough men. +</p> +<p> +“I reckon the old gentleman was satisfied. I +seen them riding over the hills together, as well as +wandering about the diggings. One night while +he was here we had a big dance—a regular hoe-down—in +the big hall. +</p> +<p> +“This here big-bug father of Mr. Royal danced +with me. What do you know about that? ‘What +do you think of my son?’ says he to me while we +was dancing. +</p> +<p> +“Says I: ‘I think he’s got almost as much sense +as though he was borned and brought up in Arizona. +And he knows a whole lot more than most +of our boys does.’ ‘Why,’ says he to me, ‘you’ve +got a lot of good sense yourself, ain’t you?’ I +guess Mr. Royal had been cracking me up to his +father at that. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Phelps—the younger, I mean—takes dinner +with us most every Sunday; and he treats me +just as nice and polite as though I’d been used to +having my hair done up and my hands man-cured +all my life.” +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p> +This letter arrived at the Red Mill on a day +when Jennie and Rebecca were there, as well as +Helen and her twin. There was more to Min +Peters’ long epistle; but as Jennie Stone said: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span> +</p> +<p> +“That’s enough to show how the wind is blowing. +Why, I had no idea that Phelps boy would +ever show such good sense as to ‘shine up’ to +Min!” +</p> +<p> +“The dear girl!” sighed Ruth. “She has the +making of a fine woman in her. I don’t blame +Royal Phelps for liking her.” +</p> +<p> +“I imagine Edie took back a long tale of woe to +her father and that he went out there to ‘look +over’ Min more than he did gold prospects,” Rebecca +said, tartly. “Of course, she’s awfully uncouth, +and Royal Phelps is a gentleman——” +</p> +<p> +“Thus speaks the oracle!” exclaimed Helen, +briskly. “Rebecca believes in putting signs on the +young men of our best families who go into such +regions: ‘Beware the dog.’” +</p> +<p> +“Well, he is really nice,” complained Rebecca, +who could not easily be cured of snobbishness. +</p> +<p> +“I hope there are others,” announced Tom, +swinging idly in the hammock. +</p> +<p> +“Fishing for compliments, I declare,” laughed +Jennie, poking him. +</p> +<p> +“Why, he’s des the cutest, nicest ‘ittle sing,” +cooed his sister, rocking the big fellow in the hammock. +</p> +<p> +“It’s been an awful task for you to bring him +up, Nell,” drawled Jennie. “But after all, I don’t +know but it’s been worth while. He’s almost +human. If they’d drowned him when he was little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +and only raised you, I don’t know but it would +have been a calamity.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, cat’s foot!” snapped Tom, rising from the +hammock with a bound. “You girls mostly give +me a woful pain. You’re too biggity. Pretty soon +there won’t be any comfort living in the world with +you ‘advanced women.’ The men will have to go +off to another planet and start all over again. +</p> +<p> +“Who’ll mend your socks and press your neckties?” +laughed Ruth from her seat on the piazza +railing. +</p> +<p> +“Thanks be! If there are no women the necessity +for ties and socks will be done away with. +And certain sure most of you college girls will +never know how to do either.” +</p> +<p> +“Hear him!” cried Jennie. +</p> +<p> +“Infamous!” gasped Rebecca. +</p> +<p> +“You wait, young man,” laughed his sister. +“I’ll make you pay for that.” +</p> +<p> +But Tom recovered his temper and grinned at +them. Then he glanced up at Ruth. +</p> +<p> +“Come on down, Ruth, and take a walk, will +you? Come off your perch.” +</p> +<p> +The girl of the Red Mill laughed at him; but +she did as he asked. “Come on, I’m game.” +</p> +<p> +“No more walks,” groaned Jennie. “I scarcely +cast a shadow now I’m getting so thin. That saddle +work in Arizona pulled me down till I’m +scarcely bigger than a thread of cotton.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span> +</p> +<p> +Ruth and Tom started off to go along the river +road, the two who had first been friends in Cheslow +and around the Red Mill. There was a smile +on Ruth’s lips; but Tom looked serious. Neither +of them dreamed of the strenuous adventures the +future held in store for them, as will be related in +our next volume, entitled “Ruth Fielding in the +Red Cross; or, Doing Her Bit for Uncle Sam.” +</p> +<p> +The other young folks, remaining in the shaded +farmyard, looked after them. Jennie jerked out: +</p> +<p> +“Mighty—nice—looking—couple, eh?” +</p> +<p> +Nobody made any rejoinder, but all three of +Ruth’s friends gazed after her and her companion. +</p> +<p> +The couple had halted on the bridge. They +were talking earnestly, and Ruth rested one hand +on the railing and turned to face the young man. +His big brown hand covered hers, that lay on the +rail. Ruth did not withdraw it. +</p> +<p> +“Mated!” drawled Jennie Stone, and the others +nodded understandingly. +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p> </p> +<p>THE END</p> +</div> +<hr style='margin:20px auto; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:80%' /> +<div class='center'> +<p><b>THE RUTH FIELDING SERIES</b></p> +<p><span class='sc'>By ALICE B. EMERSON</span></p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'><em>12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid</em></span></p> +</div> +<div class='figleft' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i004' id='i004'></a> +<img src='images/ad1.jpg' alt='' width='20%' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL</b><br /> + <em>or Jasper Parole’s Secret</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOODHALL</b><br /> + <em>or Solving the Campus Mystery</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP</b><br /> + <em>or Lost in the Backwoods</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT</b><br /> + <em>or Nita, the Girl Castaway</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH</b><br /> + <em>or Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND</b><br /> + <em>or The Old Hunter’s Treasure Box</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM</b><br /> + <em>or What Became of the Raby Orphans</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES</b><br /> + <em>or The Missing Pearl Necklace</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURES</b><br /> + <em>or Helping the Dormitory Fund</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIE</b><br /> + <em>or Great Days in the Land of Cotton</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGE</b><br /> + <em>or The Missing Examination Papers</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE</b><br /> + <em>or College Girls in the Land of Gold</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING IN THE RED CROSS</b><br /> + <em>or Doing Her Bit for Uncle Sam</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT</b><br /> + <em>or The Hunt for a Lost Soldier</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING HOMEWARD BOUND</b><br /> + <em>or A Red Cross Worker’s Ocean Perils</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING DOWN EAST</b><br /> + <em>or The Hermit of Beach Plum Point</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING IN THE GREAT NORTHWEST</b><br /> + <em>or The Indian Girl Star of the Movies</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE</b><br /> + <em>or The Queer Old Man of the Thousand Islands</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING TREASURE HUNTING</b><br /> + <em>or A Moving Picture that Became Real</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING IN THE FAR NORTH</b><br /> + <em>or The Lost Motion Picture Company</em> +</p> +<p> +<b>RUTH FIELDING AT GOLDEN PASS</b><br /> + <em>or The Perils of an Artificial Avalanche</em> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><b>CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York</b></p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><b>THE BETTY GORDON SERIES</b></p> +<p><span class='sc'>By ALICE B. EMERSON</span></p> +<p><b>Author of the Famous “Ruth Fielding” Series</b></p> +<p>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors</p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'><b>Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid</b></span></p> +</div> +<div class='figleft' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i005' id='i005'></a> +<img src='images/ad2.jpg' alt='' width='20%' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<p> +A series of stories by Alice B. Emerson which +are bound to make this writer more popular +than ever with her host of girl readers. +</p> +<p> +<b>1. BETTY GORDON AT BRAMBLE FARM</b> +<em>or The Mystery of a Nobody</em> +</p> +<p> +At the age of twelve Betty is left an +orphan. +</p> +<p> +<b>2. BETTY GORDON IN WASHINGTON</b> +<em>or Strange Adventures in a Great City</em> +</p> +<p> +In this volume Betty goes to the National +Capitol to find her uncle and has several +unusual adventures. +</p> +<p> +<b>3. BETTY GORDON IN THE LAND OF OIL</b> +<em>or The Farm That Was Worth a Fortune</em> +</p> +<p> +From Washington the scene is shifted to the great oil fields of +our country. A splendid picture of the oil field operations of to-day. +</p> +<p> +<b>4. BETTY GORDON AT BOARDING SCHOOL</b> +<em>or The Treasure of Indian Chasm</em> +</p> +<p> +Seeking the treasure of Indian Chasm makes an exceedingly interesting +incident. +</p> +<p> +<b>5. BETTY GORDON AT MOUNTAIN CAMP</b> +<em>or The Mystery of Ida Bellethorne</em> +</p> +<p> +At Mountain Camp Betty found herself in the midst of a mystery +involving a girl whom she had previously met in Washington. +</p> +<p> +<b>6. BETTY GORDON AT OCEAN PARK</b> +<em>or School Chums on the Boardwalk</em> +</p> +<p> +A glorious outing that Betty and her chums never forgot. +</p> +<p> +<b>7. BETTY GORDON AND HER SCHOOL CHUMS</b> +<em>or Bringing the Rebels to Terms</em> +</p> +<p> +Rebellious students, disliked teachers and mysterious robberies +make a fascinating story. +</p> +<p> +<b>8. BETTY GORDON AT RAINBOW RANCH</b> +<em>or Cowboy Joe’s Secret</em> +</p> +<p> +Betty and her chums have a grand time in the saddle. +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><em>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue</em></p> +<p><b>CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York</b></p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><b>THE LINGER-NOT SERIES</b></p> +<p><span class='sc'>By AGNES MILLER</span></p> +<p>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors</p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'><b>Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid</b></span></p> +</div> +<div class='figleft' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i006' id='i006'></a> +<img src='images/ad3.jpg' alt='' width='20%' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<p> +This new series of girls’ books is in a new +style of story writing. The interest is in knowing +the girls and seeing them solve the problems +that develop their character. Incidentally, a +great deal of historical information is imparted. +</p> +<p> +<b>1. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE MYSTERY HOUSE</b> +<em>or The Story of Nine Adventurous Girls</em> +</p> +<p> +How the Linger-Not girls met and formed +their club seems commonplace, but this +writer makes it fascinating, and how they +made their club serve a great purpose continues +the interest to the end, and introduces +a new type of girlhood. +</p> +<p> +<b>2. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE VALLEY FEUD</b> +<em>or The Great West Point Chain</em> +</p> +<p> +The Linger-Not girls had no thought of becoming mixed up with +feuds or mysteries, but their habit of being useful soon entangled +them in some surprising adventures that turned out happily for all, +and made the valley better because of their visit. +</p> +<p> +<b>3. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THEIR GOLDEN QUEST</b> +<em>or The Log of the Ocean Monarch</em> +</p> +<p> +For a club of girls to become involved in a mystery leading back +into the times of the California gold rush, seems unnatural until the +reader sees how it happened, and how the girls helped one of their +friends to come into her rightful name and inheritance, forms a fine +story. +</p> +<p> +<b>4. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE WHISPERING CHARMS</b> +<em>or The Secret from Old Alaska</em> +</p> +<p> +Whether engrossed in thrilling adventures in the Far North or +occupied with quiet home duties, the Linger-Not girls could work +unitedly to solve a colorful mystery in a way that interpreted +American freedom to a sad young stranger, and brought happiness +to her and to themselves. +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><em>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue</em></p> +<p><b>CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York</b></p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><b>THE RADIO GIRLS SERIES</b></p> +<p><span class='sc'>BY MARGARET PENROSE</span></p> +<p>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors</p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'><b>Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid</b></span></p> +</div> +<div class='figleft' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i007' id='i007'></a> +<img src='images/ad4.jpg' alt='' width='20%' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<p> +A new and up-to-date series, taking in the +activities of several bright girls who become +interested in radio. The stories tell of thrilling +exploits, outdoor life and the great part the +Radio plays in the adventures of the girls and +in solving their mysteries. Fascinating books +that girls of all ages will want to read. +</p> +<p> +<b>1. THE RADIO GIRLS OF ROSELAWN</b> +<em>or A Strange Message from the Air</em> +</p> +<p> +Showing how Jessie Norwood and her +chums became interested in radiophoning, +how they gave a concert for a worthy local +charity, and how they received a sudden and +unexpected call for help out of the air. A girl wanted as witness in a +celebrated law case disappears, and the radio girls go to the rescue. +</p> +<p> +<b>2. THE RADIO GIRLS ON THE PROGRAM</b> +<em>or Singing and Reciting at the Sending Station</em> +</p> +<p> +When listening in on a thrilling recitation or a superb concert +number who of us has not longed to “look behind the scenes” to see +how it was done? The girls had made the acquaintance of a sending +station manager and in this volume are permitted to get on the program, +much to their delight. A tale full of action and fun. +</p> +<p> +<b>3. THE RADIO GIRLS ON STATION ISLAND</b> +<em>or The Wireless from the Steam Yacht</em> +</p> +<p> +In this volume the girls travel to the seashore and put in a vacation +on an island where is located a big radio sending station. The big +brother of one of the girls owns a steam yacht and while out with a +pleasure party those on the island receive word by radio that the +yacht is on fire. A tale thrilling to the last page. +</p> +<p> +<b>4. THE RADIO GIRLS AT FOREST LODGE</b> +<em>or The Strange Hut in the Swamp</em> +</p> +<p> +The Radio Girls spend several weeks on the shores of a beautiful +lake and with their radio get news of a great forest fire. It also aids +them in rounding up some undesirable folks who occupy the strange +hut in the swamp. +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><em>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue</em></p> +<p><b>CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York</b></p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Ruth Fielding In the Saddle, by Alice B. 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