Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies | Page 8

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this Red Mill----What's she done for ye this very day, Jabez, as ye said
yourself?"
Aunt Alvirah was one of the very few people who dared to talk plainly
to the miller, when he was in one of his tempers. Now he growled out
some rough reply, and strode into the house.
"You've driven him away, Auntie!" cried Ruth, under her breath.
"He'd oughter be driv' away," said the old woman, "when he's in thet
mind."
"But what he says is true. I am a great expense to him. I--I wish I could
earn my own way through school."
"Don't ye worry, my pretty. Jabez Potter's bark is wuss than his bite."
"But the bark hurts, just the same."
"He ought to be whipped!" hissed Mercy, in her most unmerciful tone.
"I'd like to whip him, till all the dust flew out of his Dusty Miller
clothes--so I would!"
"Sh!" commanded Ruth, recovering her self-command again and
fighting back the tears. "Just as Aunt Alvirah observes, he doesn't mean
half of what he says."
"It hurts just the same--you said it yourself," declared the lame girl,
with a snap.

"I want to be independent, anyway," said Ruth, with some excitement.
"I want an education so I can do something. I'd like to cultivate my
voice--the teacher says it has possibilities. Mr. Cameron is going to let
Helen go as far as she likes with the violin, and she doesn't have to
think about making her way in the world."
"Gals ain't content now to sit down after gittin' some schoolin'--I kin
see thet," sighed Aunt Alvirah. "It warn't so in my day. I never see the
beat of 'em for wantin' ter go out inter the worl' an' make a livin'--jes'
like men."
CHAPTER IV
THE AUTO TOUR
"Hi, Ruth!"
"Hey, Ruth!"
"Straw, Ruth!--why don't you say?" cried the owner of the name,
running to the porch and smiling out upon the Cameron twins, who had
stopped their automobile at the Red Mill gate on a morning soon
following that day on which Uncle Jabez and Ruth had undergone their
involuntary ducking in the Lumano.
"Aren't you ready, Ruthie?" cried Helen from the back seat of the car.
"Do hurry up, Ruth--the horses don't want to stand," laughed Tom, who
was slim and black haired and black eyed, like his twin. Indeed, the two
were so much alike that, dressed in each other's clothing, it is doubtful
if they could have been suspected in such disguise.
"But my bag isn't packed yet," cried Ruth. "I didn't know you'd be here
so soon."
"Take your toothbrush and powder puff--that's all you girls really
need," declared the irrepressible Tom.

"I like that! And on a two days' trip into the hills," said his sister,
beating him soundly with an energetic fist.
"Give him one or two good ones for me, Helen," said Ruth, and ran in
to finish her preparations for the journey she was to take with her
friends.
"Pshaw!" grumbled the impatient Tom, "going to Uncle Ike's isn't like
going to a fancy hotel. And we'll stop over to-night with Fred Larkin's
folks--the girls there would lend you and Ruth all you need."
"Hold on!" exclaimed his sister. "Just what have you in your bag? I
know it's heavy. You have all you want----"
"Sure. Pair of socks, two collars, fishing tackle, some books I borrowed
of Fred last year, my bicycle wrench--you never know when you are
going to need it,--a string of wampum I promised to take to Nealy
Larkin--she's a Campfire girl, you know--and an Indian tomahawk for
Fred----"
"But, clothes! clothes!" gasped Helen. "Where are your shirts?"
"Oh, I'll borrow a shirt, if I need one," declared Master Tom, grinning.
"Uncle Ike's Benjy is about my size, you know. What's the use of
carting around so much stuff?"
"I notice you have your bag full of trash," sniffed Helen. "It can plainly
be seen that Mrs. Murchiston was called away so suddenly that she
could not oversee our packing."
"Come on, Ruth!" shouted Tom again, turning toward the farmhouse.
"Now, don't get her in a flurry," admonished Helen. "She hasn't had but
two hours' notice to get ready for this two days' trip. It's a wonder
Uncle Jabez would let her go with us at all."
"Oh, Uncle Jabe isn't such a bad old fellow after all," said Tom.
"He's been just as cross and cranky as he can be, ever since he lost his

boat in the river the other evening--you know that. And they say he
would have been drowned, too, if it hadn't been for Ruthie. What a
brave girl she is, Tom!"
"Bravest in seven states!" acknowledged Master Tom, promptly. He
had always thought there was nobody just like Ruth, and his sister
smiled