Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies

Alice B. Emerson
ﳴ
Fielding and the Gypsies, by Alice B. Emerson

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Title: Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies The Missing Pearl Necklace
Author: Alice B. Emerson
Release Date: September 23, 2007 [EBook #22743]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: HE PUSHED RUTH ROUGHLY BACK INTO HER SEAT. Page 123]
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RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES
Or The Missing Pearl Necklace
By ALICE B. EMERSON
Author of "Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill," "Ruth Fielding at Silver Ranch," etc.
Illustrated
New York CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY Publishers
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Books for Girls
By ALICE B. EMERSON
RUTH FIELDING SERIES
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 40 cents, postpaid.
RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL Or, Jasper Parloe's Secret.
RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOOD HALL Or, Solving the Campus Mystery.
RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP Or, Lost in the Backwoods.
RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT Or, Nita, the Girl Castaway.
RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH Or, Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys.
RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND Or, The Old Hunter's Treasure Box.
RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM Or, What Became of the Raby Orphans.
RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES Or, The Missing Pearl Necklace.
Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York.
Copyright, 1915, by Cupples & Leon Company
Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies.
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CONTENTS
I. On the Lumano River 1
II. Roberto, the Gypsy 10
III. Evening at the Red Mill 19
IV. The Auto Tour 27
V. A Prophecy Fulfilled 37
VI. A Transaction in Mutton 43
VII. Fellow Travelers 53
VIII. What Was It All About? 61
IX. Queen Zelaya 69
X. In the Gypsy Camp 80
XI. Tom on the Trail 91
XII. A Break for Liberty 104
XIII. Ruth in the Toils 111
XIV. Roberto Again 116
XV. Helen's Escape 124
XVI. Through the Night and the Storm 133
XVII. Off for School Again 140
XVIII. Getting Into Harness 149
XIX. Can It Be Possible? 156
XX. He Cannot Talk 164
XXI. Ruth Intercedes 169
XXII. A Great Temptation 175
XXIII. Nettie Parsons' Feast 182
XXIV. Roberto Finds His Voice 190
XXV. Five Thousand Dollars 198
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RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES
CHAPTER I
ON THE LUMANO RIVER
The steady turning of the grinding-stones set the old Red Mill a-quiver in every board and beam. The air within was full of dust--dust of the grain, and fine, fine dust from the stones themselves.
Uncle Jabez Potter, the miller, came to the door and looked across the grassy yard that separated the mill and the farmhouse attached from the highroad. Under a broad-spreading tree sat two girls, busy with their needles.
One, a sharp-faced, light-haired girl, who somehow carried a look of endured pain in her eyes in spite of the smile she flung at the old man, cried:
"Hello, Dusty Miller! come out and fly about a little. It will do you good."
The grim face of the miller lightened perceptibly. "How do you reckon a man like me kin fly, Mercy child?" he croaked.
"I'll lend you my aeroplanes, if you like," she returned, gaily, and held up the two ebony canes which had been hidden by the tall grass. They told the story of Mercy Curtis' look of pain, but once she had had to hobble on crutches and, as she pluckily declared, canes were "miles better than crutches."
"I ain't got no time, gals, an' that's a fac'," said the miller, his face clouding suddenly. "Ain't ye seen hide nor hair of Ben an' them mules?"
"Why, Uncle," said the second girl, quietly, "you know how many errands Ben had to do in town. He couldn't do them all and get back in so short a time."
"I dunno about that, Niece Ruth--I dunno about that," said the old man, sharply. "Seems ter me I could ha' gone an' been back by now. An' hi guy! there's four sacks o' flour to take acrost the river to Tim Lakeby--an' I kyan't do it by meself--Ben knows that. Takes two' on us ter handle thet punt 'ith the river runnin' like she is right now."
The girl who had last spoken folded the work in her lap and got up agilely. Her movements were followed--perhaps a little enviously--by the gaze of the lame girl.
"How quick you are, Ruthie," she said. When Ruth Fielding looked down upon Mercy Curtis, her smile started an answering one upon the lame girl's thin face.
"Quick on my feet, dearie," said Ruth. "But you have so much quicker a mind."
"Flatterer!" returned the other, yet the smile lingered upon the thin face and made it the sweeter.
The miller was turning, grumblingly, back into the shadowy interior of the mill, when Ruth hailed him.
"Oh, Uncle!" she cried. "Let me help you."
"What's that?" he demanded, wheeling again to look at her from under
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