CERTAIN EXPLANATIONS
But the boy was more seriously ill than any of them suspected at the
time. Before night, when the doctor arrived (walking over on snow-shoes
with the guide) Fred was in a high fever and was rambling in his
speech. None of the girls was seriously injured by the adventure
in the snow; but the doctor shook his head over Hatfield.
Mrs. Murchiston gave the youth good attention, however, and the
doctor promised to come again as soon as a horse could get through
the roads. Two days passed before anybody got to Snow Camp saving on
snowshoes. The governess was so kind to the sick boy that he broke
down and confessed all his wretched story to her.
His home life had not been very happy since his father's death. His
brother 'Lias, and the other big boys, were hard-working woodsmen and
thought Fred ought to work hard, too, in the woods and on their poor
little farm. He had finally had a fierce quarrel with 'Lias and the
older boy had thrashed him.
"I only meant to scare him," Fred confessed, "when he shot at me and
thought it was a deer. The bullet whistled right by my head. When I
jumped I dislodged a stone in the bank, and that rolled down the hill
and splashed into Rolling River. I hid.
"I saw 'Lias was frightened, and I thought it served him right--
shooting so carelessly. Lots of folks are shot for deer up here in
the hunting reason, and 'Lias is real careless with a gun. So I
stayed hid. Then I heard two men talking at night and they said they
guessed marm would be glad to get rid of me--I was no good.
"So I got a ride off on the railroad, and I wasn't going back. I
didn't know 'Lias had been arrested until Mr. Cameron brought me back
up this way and I heard about it from a logger that didn't know me.
He said my body had been found. Of course, it wasn't me. Somebody
else was drowned in Rolling River. There's been a little French
Canadian feller missing since last fall and he was supposed to have
been drowned. It was his body they found, I reckon. The man told me
the body was so broken and disfigured that nobody could recognize the
features--and the clothing was torn all off it.
"I don't know what marm and the boys will do to me if they find me,"
wailed Hatfield, who seemed to be more afraid of the rough usage of
his big half-brothers than anything else.
But the first sled to get through to Snow Camp brought, besides the
doctor, the boy's mother and 'Lias Hatfield himself. The backwoods
woman showed considerable tenderness when she met her lost boy, and
the young fellow who had suffered in jail for some weeks held no
anger against his brother because of it.
"Why, Mr. Cam'ron," he said to the merchant, "I reckon it sarved me
out right. I _was_ purty ha'sh with the boy. He ain't naught but
a weakling, after all. Marm, she does her best by us all, and we
stick to her; but if Fred ain't fitten to work in the woods, or on
the farm, we'll find him something to do in town--if he likes it
better. I don't hold no grudge."
Two days later the boy was well enough to move, and they all went
away from Snow Camp; but Mr. Cameron had agreed, before they went,
to give Fred Hatfield a chance in his store in the city, if they
would send him down there in the spring.
"He's not fit for the rough life up here," he told Tom and Helen and
Ruth, when they talked it over. "He's not an attractive boy, either.
But he needs a chance, and I will give him one. If we only helped
those people in the world who really _deserved_ helping, we
wouldn't boost many folks."
Meanwhile the girls had all recovered from their adventure in the
blizzard, and the entire party of young folk found plenty of
amusement in the snow-bound camp. In one monstrous heap in the yard
the boys excavated a good-sized cavern--big enough so that all the
girls as well as the boys could enter it at once; and they lit it up
at night with candles and held a "party" there, at which plenty of
walnut taffy was served--without shells in it!
"This is heaping coals of fire on your head, young man," said Madge,
tartly, as she passed the pan to Busy Izzy.
"All right," he returned, with a grin. "Keep on heaping. I can stand
it."
"If you girls had been right smart," drawled Bob Steele, "when you
were lost the other day, you'd have scooped you out a hole like this
in a snowbank and hived up as snug as a bug in a rug till the storm
was over."
"Oh, yes! we all know lots of things to do when we are lost again,"
returned Helen. "But I hope that our next vacation won't have any
such unpleasant experience in store for us."
"I'm with you in that wish," cried Belle Tingley.
"Well, now, yo've all promised to go with me to our cottage at
Lighthouse Point for two weeks next summer," cried Heavy. "I
guarantee you won't be lost in the snow down there."
"Not at that time of year, that's sure," laughed Ruth. "But we don't
know yet, Jennie, that we _can_ go with you."
However, it is safe to state here that Ruth, at least, was able to
accept the stout girl's invitation, for we shall meet her next in a
story entitled: "Ruth Fielding at Lighthouse Point; Or, Nita, the
Girl Castaway."
There was plenty of fun around Snow Camp for the remainder of the
ten days they spent there, and when the time came to go back to
civilization both girls and boys assured good Mr. Cameron that they
had had a most delightful time. They traveled as far as Cheslow
together, where Heavy and Belle and Lluella went to their homes for a
day or two, to finish out the tag-end of the vacation, while the
Steeles and Isadore went home with the Camerons, and Ruth returned to
the Red Mill.
And how glad Aunt Alvirah was to see Ruth! Uncle Jabez didn't
display his feelings so openly; but Ruth had learned how to take the
miller, and how to understand him. She helped him with his accounts,
made out his bills for the year, and otherwise made herself of use to
him.
"You just wait, Uncle Jabez," she told him, earnestly. "I'm going to
make your investment in my schooling at Briarwood pay you the biggest
dividend of anything you ever speculated in--you see."
"I'm sure I hope so, Niece Ruth," he grumbled. "I don't much expect
it, though. They teach you too many folderols up there. What's
_this_ now?" he asked, pointing his stubbed forefinger to the
little gold and black enamel pin she wore on her blouse.
"'S. B.'"
"Is them the letters?"
"Yes, sir. My society emblem. We're the Sweetbriars, of Briarwood
Hall. And you wait! we're going to be the most popular club in the
school before long. We've had Mrs. Tellingham, the Preceptress, at
one of our meetings."
"What good is that?" he demanded, shaking his grizzled head.
"Fraternity--fellowship--helpfulness--hope--oh! it stands for lots
of things. And then, Uncle Jabez, I am learning to sing and play.
Maybe before long I can open the old cottage organ you've got stowed
away in the parlor and play for you."
"That won't lower the price of wheat, or raise the price of flour,"
he grumbled.
"How do you know it won't, until we've tried it?" she answered him,
gaily.
And so she made the old mill, and the farmhouse adjoining, a much
brighter, gayer, pleasanter place while she was in it. Her
cheerfulness and sweetness were contagious. Aunt Alvirah complained
less frequently of her back and bones when Ruth was about, and in
spite of himself, the old miller's step grew lighter.
"Ah, Jabez," Aunt Alvirah said, as they watched Ruth get into the
Cameron automobile to be whisked away to the station, and so to
Briarwood for her second half, "that's where our endurin' comfort an'
hope is centered for our old age. We've only got Ruthie."
"She's a mighty expensive piece of property," snarled the old man.
"Ye don't mean it, Jabez, ye don't mean it," she returned, softly.
"You're thawin' out--and Ruth Fielding is the sun that warms up your
cold old heart!"
But this last was said so low that Jabez Potter did not hear it as
he stumped away toward the Red Mill.
In the automobile the young folks were having a gay time. Helen was
with Ruth, and Tom was on the front seat.
"Say, we sure did have some excitement in Snow Camp as well as fun,"
came from Tom.
"And that catamount!" gasped Helen.
"And Ruth's shot!" broke in her twin brother. "Ruth, you ought to
try for a marksmanship badge!"
"And wasn't it fine how it came out about Fred," said Ruth, her face
beaming with satisfaction. "I am so glad to know he is no longer a
homeless wanderer!"
"All due to you," said Tom. "Ruth, you're a wonder!" he added,
admiringly.
"Oh, Tom!" she answered. Nevertheless, she looked much pleased.
And here let us say good-bye.
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Ruth Fielding at Snow Camp, by Alice B. Emerson