Ruth Fielding was troubled by her most recent discovery. Yet she was in
no mind to take Clare into her confidence--or anybody else.
She was cautious. With nothing but suspicions to report to the Red Cross
authorities, what could she really say? What, after all, do suspicions
amount to?
If the man calling himself Professor Perry was really Legrand, and the
Italian chef, Signor Aristo the lame man, was he who had been known as
Mr. José at the Robinsburg Red Cross headquarters, her identification of
them must be corroborated. How could she prove such assertions?
It was a serious situation; but one in which Ruth felt that her hands
were tied. She must wait for something to turn up that would give her a
sure hold on these people whom she believed to be out and out crooks.
Ruth accompanied the remainder of the "left behind" party of workers
into the building, and they found the proper office in which to report
their arrival in Paris. The other members of the supply unit met the
delayed party with much hilarity; the joke of their having been left
behind was not soon to be forgotten.
The hospital units, better organized, and with their heads, or chiefs,
already trained and on the spot, went on toward the front that very day.
But Ruth's battalion still lacked a leader. They were scattered among
different hotels and pensions in the vicinity of the Red Cross offices,
and spent several days in comparative idleness.
It gave the girls an opportunity of going about and seeing the French
capital, which, even in wartime, had a certain amount of gayety. Ruth
searched out Madame Picolet, and Madame was transported with joy on
seeing her one-time pupil.
The Frenchwoman held the girl of the Red Mill in grateful remembrance,
and for more than Ruth's contribution to Madame Picolet's work among the
widows and orphans of her dear poilus. In "Ruth Fielding at Briarwood
Hall," Madame Picolet's personal history is narrated, and how Ruth had
been the means of aiding the lady in a very serious predicament is
shown.
"Ah, my dear child!" exclaimed the Frenchwoman, "it is a blessing of _le
bon Dieu_ that we should meet again. And in this, my own country! I love
all Americans for what they are doing for our poor poilus. Your sweet
and volatile friend, Helen, is here. She has gone with her father just
now to a southern city. And even that mischievous Mam'zelle Stone is
working in a good cause. She will be delight' to see you, too."
This was quite true. Jennie Stone welcomed Ruth in the headquarters of
the American Women's League with a scream of joy, and flew into the arms
of the girl of the Red Mill.
The latter staggered under the shock. Jennie looked at her woefully.
"_Don't_ tell me that work agrees with me!" she wailed. "_Don't_ say
that I am getting fat again! It's the cooking."
"What cooking? French cooking will never make you fat in a hundred
years," declared Ruth, who had had her own experiences in the French
hotels in war times. "Don't tell me that, Jennie.
"I don't. It's the diet kitchen. I'm in that, you know, and I'm tasting
food all the time. It--it's _dreadful_ the amount I manage to absorb
without thinking every day. I know, before this war is over, I shall be
as big as one of those British tanks they talk about."
"My goodness, girl!" cried Ruth. "You don't have to make a tank of
yourself, do you? Exercise----"
"Now stop right there, Ruth Fielding!" cried Jennie Stone, with flashing
eyes. "You have as little sense as the rest of these people. They tell
me to exercise, and don't you know that every time I go horseback
riding, or do anything else of a violent nature, that I have to come
right back and eat enough victuals to put on twice the number of pounds
the exercise is supposed to take off? Don't--tell--me! It's impossible to
reduce and keep one's health."
Jennie was doing something besides putting on flesh, however. Her
practical work in the diet kitchen Ruth saw was worthy, indeed.
The girl of the Red Mill could not see Helen at this time, but she
believed her chum and Mr. Cameron would look her up, wherever the supply
unit to which Ruth belonged was ultimately assigned.
She received a letter from Tom Cameron about this time, too, and found
that he was hard at work in a camp right behind the French lines and had
already made one step in the line of progress, being now a first
lieutenant. He expected, with his force of Pershing's boys, to go into
the trenches for the first time within a fortnight.
She wished she might see Tom again before his battalion went into
action; but she was under command of the Red Cross; and, in any case,
she could not have got her passport viséed for the front. Mr. Cameron,
as a representative of the United States Government, with Helen, had
been able to visit Tom in the training camp over here.
Ruth wrote, however--wrote a letter that Tom slipped into the little
leather pouch he wore inside his shirt, and which he would surely have
with him when he endured his first round of duty in the trenches. With
the verities of life and death so near to them, these young people were
very serious, indeed.
Yet the note of cheerfulness was never lost among the workers of the Red
Cross with whom Ruth Fielding daily associated. While she waited for her
unit to be assigned to its place the girl of the Red Mill did not waste
her time. There was always something to see and something to learn.
When congregated at the headquarters of the Supply Department one day,
the unit was suddenly notified that their new chief had arrived. They
gathered quickly in the reception room and soon a number of Red Cross
officials entered, headed by one in a major's uniform and with several
medals on the breast of his coat. He was a medical army officer in
addition to being a Red Cross commissioner.
"The ladies of our new base supply unit," said the commissioner,
introducing the workers, "already assigned to Lyse. That was decided
last evening.
"And it is my pleasure," he added, "to introduce to you ladies your new
chief. She has come over especially to take charge of your unit. Madame
Mantel, ladies. Her experience, her executive ability, and her knowledge
of French makes her quite the right person for the place. I know you
will welcome her warmly."
Even before he spoke Ruth Fielding had recognized the woman in black.
Nor did she feel any overwhelming surprise at Rose Mantel's appearance.
It was as though the girl had expected, back in her mind, something like
this to happen.
The man who spoke like Legrand and the one who looked like José,
appearing at the Paris Red Cross offices, had prepared Ruth for this
very thing. "Madame" Mantel had crossed the path of the girl of the Red
Mill again. Ruth crowded behind her companions and hid herself from the
sharp and "snaky" eyes of the woman in black.
The question of how Mrs. Mantel had obtained this place under the Red
Cross did not trouble Ruth at all. She had gained it. The thing that
made Ruth feel anxious was the object the woman in black had in
obtaining her prominent position in the organization.
The girl could not help feeling that there was something crooked about
Rose Mantel, about Legrand, and about José. These three had, she
believed, robbed the organization in Robinsburg. Their "pickings" there
had perhaps been small beside the loot they could obtain with the woman
in black as chief of a base supply unit.
Her first experience with Mrs. Mantel in Cheslow had convinced Ruth
Fielding that the woman was dishonest. The incident of the fire at
Robinsburg seemed to prove this belief correct. Yet how could she
convince the higher authorities of the Red Cross that the new chief of
this supply unit was a dangerous person?
At least, Ruth was not minded to face Mrs. Mantel at this time. She
managed to keep out of the woman's way while they remained in Paris. In
two days the unit got their transportation for Lyse, and it was not
until they were well settled in their work at the base hospital in that
city that Ruth Fielding came in personal contact with the woman in
black, her immediate superior.
Ruth had charge of the linen department and had taken over the supplies
before speaking with Mrs. Mantel. They met in one of the hospital
corridors--and quite suddenly.
The woman in black, who still dressed so that this nickname was borne
out by her appearance, halted in amazement, and Ruth saw her hand go
swiftly to her bosom--was it to still her heart's increased beat, or did
she hide some weapon there? The malevolent flash of Rose Mantel's eyes
easily suggested the latter supposition.
"Miss Fielding!" she gasped.
"How do you do, Mrs. Mantel?" the girl of the Red Mill returned quietly.
"How---- I had no idea you had come across. And in my unit?"
"I was equally surprised when I discovered you, Mrs. Mantel," said the
girl.
"You---- How odd!" murmured the woman in black. "Quite a coincidence. I
had not seen you since the fire----"
"And I hope there will be no fire here--don't you, Madame Mantel?"
interrupted Ruth. "That would be too dreadful."
"You are right. Quite too dreadful," agreed Mrs. Mantel, and swept past
the girl haughtily.