INSPIRATION
It was on the verge of evening, and a keen and searching wind was
blowing across the ruffled Lumano, when Helen Cameron's car and its
three occupants came in sight of the old Red Mill. Mercy Curtis had been
dropped at the Cheslow railway station, where she had the "second trick"
as telegraph operator.
For the last few miles of the journey from the Wild West Show there had
been a good-natured, wordy battle between Ruth and Helen as to which of
the twain was to have Jennie Stone for the night.
"Her trunk is at my house," Helen declared. "So now!"
"But her toilet bag is at the farmhouse. And, anyway, I could easily
lend her pajamas."
"She could never get into a suit of yours, you know very well, Ruth
Fielding!" exclaimed Helen.
"I'd get one of Uncle Jabez's long flannel nightgowns for her, then,"
giggled Ruth.
"Look here! I don't seem to be in such great favor with either of you,
after all," interposed the plump girl. "One would think I was a freak.
And I prefer my own night apparel in any case."
"Then you'll come home with me," Helen announced.
"But I have things at Ruth's house, just as she says," said Jennie.
At the moment the car wheeled around the turn in the road and Helen
stopped it at the gate before the old, shingled farmhouse which was
connected by a passage with the grist mill. A light flashed in the
window and at once the place looked very inviting. A door opened upon
the side porch, and to the girls' nostrils was wafted a most delicious
odor of frying cakes.
"That settles it!" ejaculated Jennie Stone, and immediately sprang out
of the car. "I'm as hungry as a bear. I'll see you to-morrow, Nell, if
you'll ride over. But don't come too near mealtime. I never could
withstand Aunt Alvirah's cooking. M-mm! Griddle-cakes--with lashin's of
butter and sugar on 'em, I wager."
"Dear me!" sighed Helen, as Ruth, too, got out, laughing. "You are
incurable, Jennie. Your goddess is your tummy."
But the plump girl was not at all abashed. She ran up the walk on to the
porch and warmly greeted the little old woman who stood in the doorway.
"How-do, Jennie. Oh, my back and oh, my bones! Be careful, child! I'm
kinder tottery to-day, and no mistake. Coming in, Helen Cameron?"
"Not to-night, Aunt Alvirah," replied the girl, starting the car again.
"Good-night, all."
"And here's my pretty!" crooned Aunt Alvirah, putting up her thin arms
to encircle Ruth's neck as the girl came in. "It does seem good to have
you home again. Your Uncle Jabez (who is softer-hearted than you would
suppose) is just as glad to have you home as I am, to be sure."
They had a merry supper in the wide, home-like kitchen, for even the
miller when he came in was cheerful. He had had a good day at the grist
mill. The cash-box was heavy that night, but he did not retire to his
room to count his receipts as early as usual. The chatter of the two
girls kept the old man interested.
"It is a shame that the Indian agent should let a girl like Wonota sign
a contract with that Dakota Joe. Anybody might see, to look at him, that
he was a bad man," Jennie Stone said with vehemence at one point in the
discussion.
"I am not much troubled over that point for the girl," said Ruth. "She
says she has already written to the agent at the Three Rivers Station,
Oklahoma, telling him how badly Fenbrook treats her. That will soon be
over. She will get her release."
"I shouldn't wonder," said Uncle Jabez, "that if a gal can fire a gun
like you say she can, there ain't much reason to worry about her. She
can take care of herself with that showman."
"But suppose she should be tempted to do something really desperate!"
cried Ruth. "I hope nothing like that will happen. She is really a
savage by instinct."
"And a pretty one," agreed Jennie, thoughtfully.
"Shucks! Pretty is as pretty does," said Aunt Alvirah. "I didn't s'pose
there was any real wild Injuns left."
"You'd think she was wild," chuckled Jennie, "if you'd seen her draw
bead on that Dakota Joe person."
"All that is not so much to the point," pursued Ruth. "I know that the
girl wants to earn money--not alone for her mere living. She could go
back to the reservation and live very comfortably without working--much.
The Osage Nation is not at all poverty stricken and it holds its
property ill community fashion."
"What makes her travel around in such a foolish way, then?" Aunt Alvirah
asked.
"She wants ready cash. She wants it for a good purpose, too," explained
Ruth thoughtfully. "You see, this girl's father is Chief Totantora, a
leading figure in the Osage Nation. The year before Germany began the
war he was traveling with a Wild West Show in Europe. The show was in
the interior of Germany when war came and the frontiers were closed.
"Once only did Wonota hear from her father. He was then in a detention
camp, for, being a good American, he refused to bow down to Hun gods--"
"I should say he had a right to call himself an American, if anybody
has," said Jennie quickly.
"And he is not the only Indian who proved his loyalty to a Government
that, perhaps, has not always treated the original Americans justly,"
Ruth remarked.
"I dunno," grumbled Uncle Jabez. "Injuns is Injuns. You say yourself
this gal is pretty wild."
"She is independent, at any rate. She wishes to earn enough money to set
afoot a private inquiry for Chief Totantora. For she does not believe he
is dead."
"Well, the poor dear," Aunt Alvirah said, "she'd ought to be helped, I
haven't a doubt."
"Now, now!" exclaimed the miller, suspiciously. "Charity begins at home.
I hope you ain't figgerin' on any foolish waste of money, Niece Ruth."
The latter laughed. "I don't think Wonota would accept charity," she
said. "And I have no intention of offering it to her in any case. But I
should like to help the girl find her father--indeed I should."
"You'd oughtn't to think you have to help everybody you come 'cross in
the world, gal," advised Uncle Jabez, finally picking up the cash-box to
retire to his room. "Every tub ought to stand on its own bottom, as I've
allus told ye."
When he was gone Aunt Alvirah shook her head sadly.
"Ain't much brotherhood of man in Jabez Potter's idees of life," she
said. "He says nobody ever helped him get up in the world, so why should
he help others?"
"Of all things!" exclaimed Ruth, with some warmth. "I wonder what he
would have done all these years without you to make a home for him
here!"
"Tut, tut!" objected the old woman. "'Tain't me that's done for him. I
was a poor lone creeter in the poorhouse when Jabez Potter came and took
me out. I know that deep down in his old heart there's a flame of
charity. Who should know it better?"
"Oh, dear!" cried Ruth. "He keeps it wonderfully well hidden--that
flame. He certainly does."
Jennie laughed. "Well, why shouldn't he be cautious? See how many times
you have been charitable, Ruth, and seen no gratitude in return."
"Well!" gasped the girl of the Red Mill, in disgust, "is _that_ what we
are to be charitable for? For shame!"
"Right you are, my pretty," said Aunt Alvirah. "Doin' one's duty for
duty's sake is the way the good Lord intended. And if Jabez Potter is
charitable without knowin' it--and he _is_--all the better. It's charged
up to his credit in heaven, I have no doubt."
The girls were tired after their long ride in the keen evening air and
they were ready for bed at a comparatively early hour. But after Ruth
had got into bed she could not sleep.
Thoughts rioted in her brain. For a week she had felt the inspiration of
creative work milling in her mind--that is what she called it. She had
promised the president of the Alectrion Film Corporation to think up
some unusual story--preferably an outdoor plot--for their next picture.
And thus far nothing had formed in her mind that suggested the thing
desired.
Outdoor stories had the call on the screen. They had but lately made one
on the coast of Maine, the details of which are given in "Ruth Fielding
Down East." Earlier in her career as a screen writer the girl of the Red
Mill had made a success of a subject which was photographed in the
mining country of the West. "Ruth Fielding in the Saddle" tells the
story of this venture.
There spun through her half-drowsing brain scenes of the Wild West Show
they had attended this day. That was surely "outdoor stuff." Was there
anything in what she had seen to-day to suggest a novel scheme for a
moving picture?
She turned and tossed. Her eyes would not remain closed. The program of
Dakota Joe's Wild West and Frontier Round-Up marched in sequence through
her memory. She did not want anything like that in her picture. It was
all "old stuff," and the crying need of the film producer is "something
new under the sun."
Yet there was color and action in much of the afternoon's performance.
Even Dakota Joe himself--as the figure of a villain, for instance--was
not to be scorned. And Princess Wonota herself--
If the story was up to date, showing the modern, full-blooded Indian
princess in love and action! Ruth suddenly bounded out of bed. She
grabbed a warm robe, wrapped herself in it and ran across to Jennie's
room.
"Jennie! Jennie! I've got it!" Ruth cried in a loud whisper.
Jennie's only answer was a prolonged and pronounced snore! She was lying
on her back.
"Jennie Stone!" exclaimed Ruth, shaking the plump girl by the shoulder.
"Wo--wow--ough! Is it fire?" gasped Jennie, finally aroused.
"No, no! I've got it!" repeated Ruth.
"Well--ell--I hope it isn't catching," said the other rather crossly.
"You've spoiled--ow!--my beauty sleep, Ruthie Fielding."
"Listen!" commanded her friend. "I've the greatest idea for a picture. I
know Mr. Hammond will be delighted. I am going to get Wonota on contract
when she breaks with Dakota Joe. I'll make her the central figure of a
big picture. She shall be the leading lady."
"Why, Ruthie Fielding! that's something you have never yet done for me,
and I have been your friend for years and years."
"Never mind. When it seems that the time is ripe to screen a story about
a pretty, plump girl, you shall have an important part in the
production," promised Ruth. "But listen to me--do! I am going to make
Princess Wonota an Indian star--"
"I believe you," drawled the plump girl. "I suppose you might call her a
'shooting star'?"