THE HARPIST ONCE MORE
Over all, Ruth wore a woolen sweater--one of those stretchy, clinging
coats with great pearl buttons that was just the thing for a skating
frolic. It had been her one reckless purchase since being at
Briarwood, she and Helen having gone down into Lumberton on Saturday
and purchased coats. While Ruth and Tom were yet some yards from the
open water the girl began to unbutton this.
"Careful, Tom!" she gasped. "Not too near--wait!"
"It's thick 'way to the edge," he returned, pantingly.
"No, it isn't. That's why Mary Cox went in. I saw the ice break under
her when she tried to turn and escape."
Thus warned, Tom dug the heel of his right skate into the ice as a
brake, and they slowed down.
Ruth let go of his hand and wriggled out of her coat in a moment. Then
she dropped to her knees and slid along the ice, while Tom flung
himself forward and traveled just as though he were sliding down hill.
"Take this, Tom!" cried Ruth, and tossed the coat to him. "We'll make
a chain--I'll hold your feet. Not too near!"
"Hold on, Bobbins!" yelled young Cameron. "We'll have you out in a
minute!"
Mary Cox had screamed very loudly at first; and she struggled with her
fellow victim, too. Bob Steele was trying to hold her up, but finally
he was obliged to let her go, and she went under water with a gurgling
cry.
"Grab her again, Bobbins!" called Tom, flinging Ruth's coat ahead of
him, but holding firmly to it himself by the two sleeves.
"I've got her!" gasped Bob Steele, his teeth chattering, and up The Fox
came again, her hair all dripping, and her face very pale.
"Good!" said Tom. "She's swallowed enough water to keep her still for
a while--what? Come on, now, old boy! Don't wait! Catch hold!"
As Ruth had warned him, the edge of the ice was fragile. He dared not
push himself out too far with the sharp toes of his skates. He dug
them into the ice now hard, and made another cast with the coat.
His chum caught it. Tom drew them slowly toward the edge of the ice.
Ruth pulled back as hard as she could, and together they managed to
work their bodies at least two yards farther from the open water. The
ice stopped cracking under Tom's breast.
There was the ring of skates and shouting of voices in their ears, and
Ruth, raising herself slightly, looked around and screamed to the crowd
to keep back. Indeed, the first of Tom's school friends would have
skated right down upon them had they not thus been warned.
"Keep back!" Ruth cried. "We can get them out. Don't come nearer!"
Tom seconded her warning, too. But mainly he gave himself up to the
work of aiding the two in the water. Bob Steele lifted the girl up--he
was a strong swimmer even in that icy bath--and did it with one hand,
too, for he clung to Ruth's coat with the other.
Mary Cox began to struggle again. Fortunately Bob had her half upon
the ice. Tom reached forward and seized her shoulder. He dragged back
with all his strength. The ice crashed in again; but Mary did not fall
back, for Tom jerked her heavily forward.
"Now we've got her!" called Tom.
And they really had. Mary Cox was drawn completely out of the water.
Mr. Hargreaves, meanwhile, had flown to the rescue with two of the
bigger boys. They got down on the ice, forming a second living chain,
and hitching forward, the tutor seized the half-conscious girl's hand.
The others drew back and dragged Mr. Hargreaves, with the girl, to firm
ice.
Meanwhile Tom, with Ruth to help him, struggled manfully to get Bob
Steele out. That youngster was by no means helpless, and they
accomplished the rescue smartly.
"And that's thanks to you, Ruthie!" declared Tom, when the tutor and
Miss Reynolds had hurried the half-drowned girl and young Steele off to
the _Minnetonka_. "I'd never have gotten him but for you--and look at
your coat!"
"It will dry," laughed the girl from the Red Mill. "Let's hurry after
them, Tom. You're wet a good deal, too--and I shall miss my coat,
being so heated. Come on!"
But she could not escape the congratulations of the girls and boys when
they reached the steamboat. Even Mary Cox's closest friends gathered
around Ruth to thank her. Nobody could gainsay the fact that Ruth had
been of great help in the recovery of Mary and Bob from the lake.
But Helen! had the other girls--and Miss Reynolds--not been in the
little cabin of the boat which had been given up to the feminine
members of the party, she would have broken down and cried on Ruth's
shoulder. To think that she had been guilty of neglecting her chum!
"I believe I have been bewitched, Ruthie," she whispered. "Tom, I
know, is on the verge of scolding me. What did you say to him?"
"Nothing that need trouble you in the least, you may be sure, Helen,"
said Ruth. "But, my dear, if it has taken such a thing as
_this_--which is not a thing to go into heroics over--to remind you
that I might possibly be hurt by your treatment, I am very sorry
indeed."
"Why, Ruth!" Helen gasped. "You don't forgive me?"
"I am not at all sure, Helen, that you either need or want my
forgiveness," returned Ruth. "You have done nothing yourself for which
you need to ask it--er, at least, very little; but your friends have
insulted and been unkind to me. I do not think that I could have
called girls _my_ friends who had treated you so, Helen."
Miss Cox had retired to a small stateroom belonging to one of the
officers of the boat, while her clothing was dried by the colored
stewardess. Bob Steele, however, borrowed some old clothes of some of
the crew, and appeared when the lunch was ready in those nondescript
garments, greatly adding to the enjoyment of the occasion.
"Well, sonny, your croup _will_ bother you sure enough, after that
dip," declared his sister. "Come! let sister tuck your bib in like a
nice boy. And _don't_ gobble!"
Bob was such a big fellow--his face was so pink, and his hair so
yellow--that Madge's way of talking to him made him seem highly comic.
The fellows from Seven Oaks shouted with laughter, and the girls
giggled. Mr. Hargreaves and Miss Reynolds, both relieved beyond
expression by the happy conclusion of what might have been a very
serious accident, did not quell the fun; and fifty or sixty young
people never had such a good time before in the saloon of the lake
steamer, _Minnetonka_.
Suddenly music began somewhere about the boat and the young folk began
to get restive. Some ran for their skates again, for the idea was to
remain near the steamer for a while and listen to the music before
going back to shore. The music was a piano, guitar, violin, and harp,
and when Ruth heard it and recognized the latter instrument she was
suddenly reminded of Miss Picolet and the strange harpist who (she
firmly believed) had caused the startling sound at the fountain.
"Let's go and see who's playing," she whispered to Helen, who had clung
close to her ever since they had come aboard the steamboat. And as Tom
was on the other side of his sister, he went with them into the forward
part of the boat.
"Well, what do you know about _that_?" demanded Tom, almost before the
girls were in the forward cabin. "Isn't that the big man with the red
waistcoat that frightened that little woman on the _Lanawaxa_? You
know, you pointed them out to me on the dock at Portageton, Helen?
Isn't that him at the harp?"
"Oh! it is, indeed!" ejaculated his sister. "What a horrid man he is!
Let's come away."
But Ruth was deeply interested in the harpist. She wondered what
knowledge of, or what connection he had with, the little French
teacher, Miss Picolet. And she wondered, too, if her suspicions
regarding the mystery of the campus--the sounding of the harpstring in
the dead of night--were borne out by the facts?
Had this coarse fellow, with his pudgy hands, his corpulency, his
drooping black mustache, some hold upon Miss Picolet? Had he followed
her to Briarwood Hall, and had he made her meet him behind the fountain
just at that hour when the Upedes were engaged in hazing Helen and
herself? These thoughts arose in her mind again as Ruth gazed
apprehensively at the ugly-looking harpist.
Helen pulled her sleeve and Ruth was turning away when she saw that the
little, piglike eyes of the harpist were turned upon them. He smiled
in his sly way and actually nodded at them.
"Sh! he remembers us," whispered Helen. "Oh, do come away, Ruth!"
"He isn't any handsome object, that's a fact," muttered Tom. "And the
cheek of him--nodding to you two girls!"
After the excitement of the accident on the lake our friends did not
feel much like skating until it came time to go back to the landing.
Mr. Hargreaves was out on the ice with those students of the two
schools who preferred to skate; but Miss Reynolds remained in the
cabin. Mary Cox had had her lunch in the little stateroom, wrapped in
blankets and in the company of an oil-stove, for heat's sake. Now she
came out, re-dressed in her own clothes, which were somewhat mussed and
shrunken in appearance.
Helen ran to her at once to congratulate Mary on her escape. "And
wasn't it lucky Tom and Ruth were so near you?" she cried. "And dear
old Ruthie! she's quite a heroine; isn't she? And you must meet Tom."
"I shall be glad to meet and thank your brother, Helen," said The Fox,
rather crossly. "But I don't see what need there is to make a fuss
over Fielding. Your brother and Mr. Hargreaves pulled Mr. Steele and
me out or the lake."
Helen stepped back and her pretty face flushed. She had begun to see
Mary Cox in her true light. Certainly she was in no mood just then to
hear her chum disparaged. She looked around for Tom and Ruth; the
former was talking quietly with Miss Reynolds, but Ruth had slipped
away when The Fox came into the cabin.
Mary Cox walked unperturbed to the teacher and Tom and put out her hand
to the youth, thanking him very nicely for what he had done.
"Oh, you mustn't thank me more than the rest of them," urged Tom. "At
least, I did no more than Ruthie. By the way, where _is_ Ruthie?"
But Ruth Fielding had disappeared, and they did not see her again until
the call was given for the start home. Then she appeared from the
forward part of the boat, very pale and silent, and all the way to the
shore, skating between Tom and Helen, she had scarcely a word to say.