Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies | Page 6

coming," said Uncle Jabez, who was facing the store.
Instantly Roberto, as he called himself, jerked his hand from Ruth's grasp. He had seen the men coming, too, and without a word he turned and fled back into the woods.
"Why--why----" began Ruth, in utter surprise.
"What's the matter with that feller?" demanded Uncle Jabez, just as the storekeeper and Farmer Bascom arrived.
"I seen the feller, Jabe," said the latter, eagerly. "He's one o' them blamed Gypsies. I run him out o' my orchard only yisterday."
CHAPTER III
EVENING AT THE RED MILL
About this time Uncle Jabez began to wake up to the fact that his boat and the flour were gone.
"It's a dumbed shame, Jabez! an' I needed that flour like tunket," said Timothy Lakeby, the storekeeper.
"Huh!" grunted the miller. "'Tain't nothin' out o' your pocket, Tim."
"But my customers air wantin' it."
"You lemme hev your boat, an' a boy to bring it back, an' we'll go right hum an' load ye up some more flour," groaned the miller. "That dratted Ben will be back by thet time, I fancy. Ef he'd been ter the mill I wouldn't hev been dependent upon my niece ter help row that old boat."
"Too heavy for her--too heavy for her, Jabe," declared Joe Bascom.
"Huh! is thet so?" snapped the miller. He could grumble to Ruth himself, but he would not stand for any other person's criticism of her. "Lemme tell ye, she worked her passage all right. An' I vum! I b'lieve thet 'twas me, myself, thet run the old tub on the rock."
"Aside from the flour, Jabez," said the storekeeper, "'tain't much of a loss. But you an' Ruthie might ha' both been drowned."
"I would, if it hadn't been for her," declared the miller, with more enthusiasm than he usually showed. "She held my head up when I was knocked out--kinder. Ye see this cut in my head?"
"Ye got out of it lucky arter all, then," said Bascom.
"Ya-as," drawled the miller. "But I ain't feelin' so pert erbout losin' thet boat an' the flour."
"But see how much worse it might have been, Uncle," suggested Ruth, timidly. "If it hadn't been for that boy----"
"What did he say his name was?" interrupted Timothy.
"Roberto."
"Yah!" said Bascom. "Thet's a Gypsy name, all right! I'd like ter got holt on him."
"I wish I could have thanked him," sighed Ruth.
"If you see him ag'in, Joe," said the miller, "don't you bother about a peck o' summer apples. I'll pay for them," he added, with a sudden burst of generosity. "Of course--in trade," he added.
He could move about now, and the gash in his head had ceased bleeding. It was a warm evening, and neither Ruth nor her uncle were likely to take cold from their ducking. But her clothing clung to her in an uncomfortable manner, and the girl was anxious to get back to the mill.
Timothy Lakeby routed out a clerk and sent him with them in the lighter boat that was moored at the store landing. Ruth begged to pull an oar again, and her uncle did not forbid her. Perhaps he still felt a little weak and dazed.
He kept speaking of Roberto, the Gypsy boy. "Strong as an ox, that feller," he said. "Wisht I had a man like him at the mill. Ben ain't wuth his salt."
"Oh, I'm sure, Uncle Jabez, Ben is very faithful and good," urged Ruth.
"Wal, a feller that could carry me like that young man done--he's jest another Sandow, he is," said Uncle Jabez.
They easily got across the river in the storekeeper's lighter boat, and Ruth displayed her oarsmanship to better advantage, for the oars were lighter. The miller noted her work and grunted his approval.
"I vum! they did teach ye suthin' at thet school 'sides folderrols, didn't they?" he said.
Ruth asked the store clerk if he knew anything about the Gypsies.
"Why, yes, Miss. I hear they are camping 'way up the river--up near the lakes, beyond Minturn's Dam. You know that's a wild country up there."
Ruth remembered. She had been a little way in that direction with her friends, Tom and Helen Cameron, in their auto. Minturn Dam had burst two years before, and done much damage, but was now repaired.
"That is a long way from here," she suggested to the clerk.
"Yes'm. But Romany folks is gret roamers--thet's why they're called 'Romany,' mebbe," was the reply. "And I guess that black-eyed rascal is a wild one."
"Never mind. He got me out o' the river," mumbled Uncle Jabez.
They brought the boat to the mill landing in safety, and Ben appeared, having returned from town and put up the mules. He gazed in blank amazement at the condition of his employer and Ruth.
"For the good land!" exclaimed Ben; but he got no farther. He was not a talkative young man, and it took considerable to wake him