"Do you suppose Nettie and her aunt have arrived, Ruth?"
"I really don't," Ruth Fielding said, as she and her chum stood on the
upper deck again and watched the shore which they were approaching so
rapidly.
"Goodness! won't you feel funny going up to that big, sprawling hotel
alone?"
"No, dear. I sha'n't be alone," laughed Ruth. "You will be with me,
won't you?"
Helen merely pinched her for answer.
"The rooms are engaged for us, you know," Ruth assured her chum. "Mrs.
Parsons knew she might be delayed by business in Washington and that we
would possibly reach the hotel first. They have our names and all we
have to do is to present her card."
"Fine! I leave it all to you," agreed Helen.
"Of course you will. You always do," said Ruth drily. "You certainly are
one of the fortunate ones in this world, Helen, dear."
"How am I?"
"Because," Ruth said, laughing, "all you ever will do in any emergency
will be to roll those pretty eyes of yours and look helpless, and
_somebody_ will come to your rescue."
"Lucky me, then!" sighed her friend. "How green the grass is on the
shore, Ruth--and how blue the water. Isn't this one lovely morning?"
"And a beautiful place we are going to. That's the fort yonder--the
largest in the United States, I shouldn't wonder."
As the steamer drew in closer to the dock those passengers who were not
going on to Norfolk got their hand baggage together and pressed toward
the forward lower deck, from which they would land at the Point. The
girls followed suit; but as they came out of their stateroom there was
the omnipresent colored man, in his porter's uniform now, ready to take
the bags.
Ruth and Helen let him take the bags, though they were very well able to
carry them, for he was insistent. The stewardess--a comfortable looking
old "aunty" in starched cap and apron--was likewise bobbing courtesies to
them as they went through the saloon. Helen's ready purse drew the
colored population of that boat as a honey-pot does bees.
As they descended to the lower deck, suddenly the queer looking school
teacher, with the short hair and funny clothes, faced them. The purser
had evidently been trying to pacify her, but now he gave it up.
"You mean to tell me that you won't demand to have these girls
examined--_searched_?" cried the angry woman. "They may have taken my
ticket for fun, but it's a serious matter and they are now afraid to
give it up. I know 'em--root and branch!"
"Do you _know_ these two young ladies?" demanded the purser, in
surprise.
"Yes; I know their kind. I have been teaching girls just like 'em for
fifteen years. They're up to all kinds of mischief."
"Oh, madam!" cried the purser, "that is strong language. I cannot hold
these young ladies on your say-so. You have no evidence. Nor do I
believe they have your ticket in their possession."
"Of course you'd take their side!" sniffed the woman.
"I am on the side of innocence always. If you care to get into trouble
by speaking to the police, you will probably find two policemen waiting
on the dock as we go ashore. They are after that disguised boy who came
aboard."
The woman tossed her head and strode away, after glaring again at the
embarrassed girls. The purser said, gently:
"I am very sorry, young ladies, that you have been annoyed by that
person. And I am glad that you did not let the offence make _us_ any
more trouble. Of course, she had no right to speak of you and to you as
she has.
"I believe she is to be pitied, however. I learn that she is going on a
trip South for her health, after a particularly arduous year's work. She
is, as she intimates, a teacher in a big girl's boarding school in New
England. She is probably not a favorite with her pupils at best, and is
now undoubtedly broken down nervously and not quite responsible for what
she says and does."
Then the purser continued, smiling: "Perhaps you can imagine that her
pupils have not tried to make her life pleasant. I have a daughter about
your age who goes to such a school, and I know from her that sometimes
the girls are rather thoughtless of an instructor's comfort--if they
dislike her."
"Oh, that is true enough, I expect," Ruth admitted. "See how they used
to treat little Picolet!" she added to Helen.
"I guess _no_ girl would fall in love with this horrid creature who says
we stole her ticket."
"She is not of a lovable disposition, that is sure," agreed the purser.
"Her name is Miss Miggs. I hope you will not see her again."
"Oh! you don't suppose she will try to make trouble for us ashore?" Ruth
cried.
"I will see that she does not. I will speak to the officers who I expect
are awaiting the boat's arrival. They have already communicated with us
by wireless about that boy."
"Wireless!" cried Helen. "And we didn't know you had it aboard. I
certainly would have thanked Tom for those roses. And then, Ruth! Just
think of telegraphing by wireless!"
"Sorry you missed that, young ladies. The instrument is in Room
Seventy," said the purser, bustling away.
"'Too late! too late! the villain cried!'" murmured Helen. "We missed
that."
"Never mind," said Ruth, smiling. "If we go back to New York by boat we
can hang around the wireless telegraph room all the time and you can
send messages to all your friends."
"No I can't," said Helen shortly.
"Why not?"
"Because I won't have any money left by that time," Helen declared
ruefully. "Goodness! how much it does cost to travel."
"It does, I guess, if you practise such generosity as you have
practised," said Ruth. "Do use a little judgment, Helen. You tip
recklessly, and you buy everything you see."
"No," declared her chum. "There's one thing I've seen that I wouldn't
buy if it was selling as cheap as 'two bits,' as these folks say down
here."
"What's that?" asked Ruth, with a laugh.
"That old maid school marm from New England," Helen replied promptly.
"Poor thing!" commented Ruth.
"There you go! Pitying her already! How do you know that she won't try
to have us arrested?"
"Goodness! we'll hope not," said Ruth, as they surged toward the gangway
with the rest of the disembarking passengers, the boat having already
docked.
The crowd came out into the sunshine of a perfect morning upon a
bustling dock. There was a goodly crowd from the hotels to see the
newcomers land. Some of the passengers were met by friends; but neither
Nettie Parsons nor her aunt were in sight.
The porter who carried the girls' bags, however, handed them over to a
hotel porter and evidently said a good word for them to that
functionary; for he was very attentive and led the chums out of the
crowd toward the broad veranda of the hotel front.
Ruth and Helen had sharp eyes, and they saw two plain-clothes men
standing by to watch the forthcoming passengers.
"The officers looking for that boy," whispered Ruth.
"Oh, dear! do you suppose he _was_ Curly?"
"I don't know. I must write to Mrs. Smith as soon as we get to the
hotel."
The chums had traveled considerably by land, and had ventured into more
than one hotel; but never alone. When they had gone to Montana to visit
Ann Hicks, Ann's Uncle Bill had been with them and had looked after the
transportation matters. And in going into the Adirondacks they had
traveled in a private car.
The porter took them immediately to a reception parlor, and took Mrs.
Parson's card that she had given Ruth to the hotel manager. The manager
came himself to greet the girls. Mrs. Parsons' name was evidently well
known at this hotel.
"At this time of year there is a choice of rooms at your disposal," he
said. "I will show you the suite Mrs. Parsons usually has; but if the
rooms assigned you are not satisfactory, we can accommodate you
elsewhere."
As they went up to the rooms Helen whispered: "Don't you feel kind of
_bridey_?"
"Kind of what?" gasped her chum.
"Why, as though you were on your bridal tour?" said Helen. "We've got on
brand new clothes, and everybody treats us as though we were queens."
"Maybe you feel that you are a queen," giggled Ruth. "But not me. If you
are a bride, Helen Cameron, where is the gloom?"
"Gloom?" repeated Helen. "Do you mean _groom_?"
"Not in your case," sniffed Ruth. "He will be a 'gloom' all right, the
way you make the money fly. See how you tipped that fellow below just
now. He's standing in a trance, looking at that dollar yet."
"I--I didn't have anything smaller," confessed the culprit.
"Well, you ought to have had change."
"My! do you want me to do as the old lady said she did when going to
church? She always carried some buttons in her purse, for then, if she
had run out of change, when the contribution box was passed she'd still
have something to drop in."
Ruth went off into a gale of laughter. "I wonder how that darkey would
have looked if you had contributed a button to him."
The manager here threw open a door which gave entrance upon two big
rooms, with a bathroom between, the windows opening upon a balcony. To
the girls it seemed a most delightful place--so high and airy--and such a
view!
"Oh, this will be lovely," Ruth assured him. "And are Mrs. Parsons'
rooms yonder?"
"Right through that door," replied the man. "There are the buttons. Ring
for any attendance you may need. If everything is not perfectly
satisfactory, young ladies, let me know."
He bowed himself out. Helen performed several stately steps about the
first room. "I tell you, my dear, we are very important. Nettie's Aunt
Rachel is a _dear_! Or are all people down here in Dixie as polite as
this person with the side whiskers?"
"Why! I think people are kind to us almost everywhere," said Ruth,
laying off her hat and coat.
"What shall we do first?" asked Helen.
"I told you. I am going right down to the ladies' writing room--I saw it
as we came through the lower floor--and write to Mrs. Smith. If Curly
_did_ run away, we know where he is."
"Do we?" asked Helen, doubtfully.
"Why--I----Well, he was aboard that steamer, I am sure," Ruth said.
"Is he now?" asked Helen. "I believe he went overboard and was picked up
by that fishing boat."
"Goodness! do you really believe so?"
"I am quite positive that the disguised boy did just that," said Helen,
nodding her dark head confidently.
"Well, I can tell Mrs. Smith nothing about that; it would only scare
her. But I want her to write to me as soon as she can and tell me if
Curly is at home. Poor boy! what ever would become of him if he ran
away?"
"And with the police after him!" Helen added. "I am sure he never
committed any real crime."
"So am I sure. But he was always playing jokes and was up to all kinds
of mischief. He was bound to get into trouble," Ruth said, with a sigh.
"Everybody around there disliked him so."
Ruth went downstairs and easily found the writing room. Outside was a
periodical and newspaper stand. The New York morning papers had just
arrived and Ruth bought one before she entered the writing room. Before
beginning the letter to Mrs. Sadoc Smith, she opened the paper and
almost the first brief article she noticed was the following:
"A police launch followed the New Union S.S. _Pocahontas_ yesterday
afternoon as far as the Narrows, and plain-clothes men James
Morrisy, B. Phelps, Schwartz and Rockheimer, boarded her to search
for a boy from up-state who has created a stir in the vicinity of
Lumberton.
"It is reported that Henry Smith, fifteen years old, tall for his
age, curly, chestnut hair, small features, especially girlish face,
is accused of helping a pair of tramps rob the Lumberton railroad
station. The tramps escaped on a hand-car with their booty. The
local police went after Henry, who lives with his grandmother, Mrs.
Sadoc Smith, his only relative, an eminently respectable woman.
Henry locked himself in his room, and while his grandmother was
urging him to come out and give himself up to the police, he slid
out of the window and over the shed roof, dropping to the ground--the
old path to the circus grounds and the bright and early Independence
Day celebration.
"Henry Smith left home with some money and a new pair of boots. The
boots and his other male attire he seems to have exchanged for
female garb at a hotel in Albany. Henry masquerades as a girl very
effectively, it is said.
"The Albany police were just too late in reaching the hotel, but
later had reason to know that Henry had come on to New York by
train. Detective Morrisy and his squad missed the fugitive at the
Grand Central Terminal. Through the good offices of a taxicab
driver, Henry was traced to the New Union pier, where he was
supposed to have boarded the _Pocahontas_.
"The detectives, however, did not find Henry Smith thereon, neither
in female garb nor in his proper habiliments. The police at Old
Point Comfort and Norfolk have been notified to watch for the boy.
His grandmother, Mrs. Sadoc Smith, declares she will disinherit her
grandson."