Ruth Fielding Down East | Page 8

Colonel Henri Marchand to join the automobile touring party which Jennie soon dubbed "the later Pilgrims."
"And that big machine looks much as the Mayflower must have looked steering across Cape Cod Bay on that special occasion we read of in sacred and profane history, hung about with four-poster beds and whatnots. In our neighborhood," the plump girl added, "there is enough decrepit furniture declared to have been brought over on the Mayflower to have made a cargo for the Leviathan."
"Oh, ma chere! you do but stretch the point, eh?" demanded the handsome Henri Marchand, amazed.
"I assure you----"
"Don't, Heavy," advised Helen. "You will only go farther and do worse. In my mind there has always been a suspicion that the Mayflower was sent over here by some shipped knocked-down furniture factory. Miles Standish and Priscilla Mullins and John Alden must have hung on by their eyebrows."
"Their eyebrows--ma foi!" gasped Marchand.
"Say, old man," said Tom, laughing, "if you listen to these crazy college girls you will have a fine idea of our historical monuments, and so forth. Take everything with a grain of salt--do."
"Oui, Monsieur! But I must have a little pepper, too. I am 'strong,' as you Americans say, for plentiful seasoning."
"Isn't he cute?" demanded Jenny Stone. "He takes to American slang like a bird to the air."
"Poetry barred!" declared Helen.
"Say," Tom remarked aside to the colonel, "you've got all the pep necessary, sure enough, in Jennie."
"She is one dear!" sighed the Frenchman.
"And she just said you were a bird. You'll have a regular zoo about you yet. Come on. Let's see if we can get this baggage aboard the good ship. It does look a good deal of an ark, doesn't it?"
Although Ruth and Aunt Kate had not joined in this repartee, the girl of the Red Mill, as well as their lovely chaperon, enjoyed the fun immensely. Ruth had revived in spirits on meeting her friends. Jennie had flown to her arms at the first greeting, and hugged the girl of the Red Mill with due regard to the mending shoulder.
"My dear! My dear!" she had cried. "I dream of you lying all so pale and bloody under that window-sill stone. And what I hear of your and Tom's experiences coming over----"
"But worse has happened to me since I arrived home," Ruth said woefully.
"No? Impossible!"
"Yes. I have had an irreparable loss," sighed Ruth. "I'll tell you about it later."
But for the most part the greetings of the two parties was made up as Tom said of "Ohs and Ahs."
"Take it from me," the naughty Tom declared to Marchand, "two girls separated for over-night can find more to tell each other about the next morning than we could think of if we should meet at the Resurrection!"
The two Cameron cars stood in the station yard, and as the other waiting cars, taxicabs and "flivvers" departed, "the sacred odor of gasoline," which Jennie had remarked upon, was soon dissipated.
The big touring car was expertly packed with baggage, and had a big hamper on either running-board as well. There was room remaining, however, for the ladies if they would sit there. But as Tom was to drive the big car he insisted that Ruth sit with him in the front seat for company. As for his racing car, he had turned that over to Marchand. It, too, was well laden; but at the start Jennie squeezed in beside her colonel, and the maroon speeder was at once whisperingly dubbed by the others "the honeymoon car."
"Poor children!" said Aunt Kate in private to the two other girls. "They cannot marry until the war is over. That my brother is firm upon, although he thinks well of Colonel Henri. And who could help liking him? He is a most lovable boy."
"'Boy!'" repeated Ruth. "And he is one of the most famous spies France has produced in this war! And a great actor!"
"But we believe he is not acting when he tells us he loves Jennie," Aunt Kate said.
"Surely not!" cried Helen.
"He is the soul of honor," Ruth declared. "I trust him as I do--well, Tom. I never had a brother."
"I've always shared Tom with you," pouted Helen.
"So you have, dear," admitted Ruth. "But a girl who has had no really-truly brother really has missed something. Perhaps good, perhaps bad. But, at least, if you have brothers you understand men better."
"Listen to the wisdom of the owl!" scoffed Helen. "Why, Tommy is only a girl turned inside out. A girl keeps all her best and softest attributes to the fore, while a boy thinks it is more manly to show a prickly surface--like the burr of a chestnut."
"Listen to them!" exclaimed Aunt Kate, with laughter. "All the wise sayings of the ancient world must be crammed under those pretty caps you wear, along with your