OFF FOR SCHOOL AGAIN
There was much bustle about the old Red Mill. The first tang of frost
was in the air, and September was lavishly painting the trees and bushes
along the banks of the Lumano with crimson and yellow.
A week had elapsed since Ruth and Helen had been prisoners in the
Gypsies' encampment, up in the hills. That week had been crowded with
excitement and adventure for the chums and Tom Cameron. They would all
three have much to talk about regarding the Gypsies and their ways, for
weeks to come.
Uncle Ike Cameron had roused up the County Sheriff and all his minions,
before Ruth appeared at Severn Corners, driven by the kindly farmer to
whose door Roberto had brought her through the darkness and rain.
Constable Peck, having searched the Gypsy camp, believed that Ruth must
have escaped from the Romany people at the same time as Helen.
Therefore, it was not until Ruth's complete story was told, that actual
pursuit of the Gypsies by the county authorities was begun.
Then Queen Zelaya and her band were not only out of the county, but out
of the state, as well. They had hurried across the border, and it was
understood that the tribe had gone south--as they usually did in the
winter--and would be seen no more in New York State--at least not until
the next spring.
The three friends had much to tell wherever they went during this
intervening week. They had had a fine time at "Uncle Ike's," but every
adventure they had was tame in comparison to those they had experienced
on the road overlooking Long Lake.
They wondered what had become of Roberto--if he had returned to his
people and risked being accused of letting Ruth escape. Ruth discussed
this point with her friends; but one thing she had never mentioned to
either Helen, or her brother Tom.
She did not speak to them of the wonderful pearl necklace she had seen
in the old Gypsy queen's possession. There was a mystery about that; she
believed Zelaya must have stolen it. The man with the wicked face had
intimated that it was part of some plunder the Gypsies had secured.
Now, Ruth and Helen--and Tom as well--were ready to start for school
again. This was the last morning for some time to come, that Ruth would
look out of her little bedroom window at the Red Mill.
She always left the beautiful place with regret. She had come to love
old Aunt Alvirah so much, and have such a deep affection and pity for
the miserly miller, that the joy of going back to Briarwood was well
tempered with remorse.
The night before, Uncle Jabez had come to Ruth, when she was alone, and
thrust a roll of coin in her hand. "Ye'll want some ter fritter away as
us'al, Niece Ruth," he had said in his most snarling tone.
When she looked at it, her heart beat high. There were five ten-dollar
gold pieces!
It was given in an ungrateful way, yet the girl of the Red Mill believed
her uncle meant to be kind after all. The very thought of giving up
possession of so much money made him cranky. Perhaps he was determined
to give her these fifty dollars on the very day they had been wrecked on
the Lumano. No wonder he had been so cross all this time!
It was Uncle Jabez's way. As Aunt Alvirah said, he could not help it. At
least, he had never learned to make any effort to cure this unfortunate
niggardliness that made him seem so unkind.
"I do wish I had a lot of money," she told Aunt Alvirah, with a sigh. "I
would never have to ask him to pay out a cent again. I could refuse to
take this that he has given me and then I----"
"Tut, tut, my pretty! don't say that," said the little old woman,
soothingly. "It does him good to put his hand in his pocket--it does,
indeed. If it is a sad wrench for him ter git it out ag'in--all the
better!" and she chuckled a little as she lowered herself into her
rocker. "Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!"
"Ye don't understand yer uncle's nater like I do, Ruthie. You bein' his
charge has been the salvation of him--yes, it has! Don't worry when he
gives ye money; it's all thet keeps his old heart from freezin' right up
solid."
Now the Cameron automobile was at the gate, and Helen and Tom were
calling to Ruth to hurry. Ben had taken her trunk to the Cheslow station
the day before. Ruth appeared with her new handbag (the Gypsies had the
old one), flung her arms about Aunt Alvirah's neck as she sat on the
porch, and then ran swiftly to the door of the mill.
"Uncle! I'm going!" she called into the brown dusk of the place.
He came slowly to the door. His gray, grim face was unlighted by even an
attempt at a smile, as he shook hands with her.
"I know ye'll be a good gal," he said, sourly. "Ye allus be. But be
savin' with--with all thet money I gave ye. It's enough to be the
ruination of a young gal to hev so much."
He repented of his gift, she knew. Yet she remembered what Aunt Alvirah
had said, and refrained from handing it back to him. She determined,
however, if she could, to never touch the five gold pieces, and some
time, when she was self-supporting, she would hand the very same coins
back to him!
This was in her thought as she moved away. So, on this occasion, Ruth
Fielding did not leave the Red Mill with a very happy feeling at her
heart.
The automobile sped away along the shady road into Cheslow. At the
station Mercy Curtis, the lame girl, was awaiting them, although it was
still some time before the train was due that would bear them away to
Lake Osago.
When it _did_ steam into view and come to a slow stop beside the
platform, there was Heavy Stone and The Fox with their hands out of the
windows, shouting to them. They had secured two seats facing each other,
and Ruth and Mercy joined them, while Tom and Helen took the seat
behind.
Such a chattering as there was! The fleshy girl and Mary Cox had not
seen Ruth and Helen and Mercy since they had all returned from the
Steeles' summer home at Sunrise Farm, and you may believe there was
plenty to talk about.
"Who else is here?" demanded Ruth, standing up to search the length of
the car for familiar faces.
"Look out, Miss!" cried Heavy, producing her first joke of the fall
term. "Remember Lot's wife!"
"Why so?" asked Helen.
"Goodness me! how ignorant you are--and you took chemistry last year,
too," declared Jennie Stone.
"I--don't--just--see," admitted Helen.
"You mean to say you don't know what two-fold chemical change Lot's wife
underwent?"
"Give it up!"
"Why," giggled Heavy, "first she turned to rubber, and then she turned
to salt!"
When the crowd had shown their appreciation, The Fox said:
"We're going to pick up an Infant at Maxwell. Heard about her?"
"No. Who is she?" asked Helen. "Not that Infants interest me much now.
We can let the juniors take them in hand. Remember, girls, we are
full-fledged seniors this year."
"You'll have an interest in this new girl," said Miss Cox, with
assurance.
"Why?"
"She is Nettie Parsons. You know her father is the big sugar man. He has
oodles of money!"
"Lot's of sugar, eh?" chuckled Heavy. "Hope she'll bring some to school
with her. I have a sweet tooth, I hope you know."
"A tooth! a whole set of sweet teeth, you mean!" cried Ruth.
"I only hope she is nice. I don't care how much money she has," said
Helen, smiling. "We won't hold her wealth up against her, if she's the
right sort."
"Oh, I'm not fooling," said The Fox, rather sharply, for she had a short
temper, "to match her red hair," as Heavy said. "She'll probably bring
trunks full of nice dresses to school and loads of jewelry----"
"Won't that be silly? For Mrs. Tellingham won't let her wear them."
"Only on state and date occasions," put in Mercy.
"At any rate, her folks have splendid things. Why! don't you remember
about her aunt losing that be-a-utiful necklace last spring?"
"Necklace?" repeated Ruth. "What sort of a necklace?"
"One of the finest pearl collars in the world, they say. Worth maybe
fifty thousand dollars. Wonderful!"
"A pearl necklace?" queried the girl from the Red Mill, her interest
growing.
"Yes, indeed."
"How careless of her!" said Heavy, with a yawn.
"Silly!" exclaimed The Fox. "It was stolen, of course."
"By whom?" demanded Ruth.
"Why, if the police knew that, they'd get back the necklace, wouldn't
they?" demanded Mary Cox, with scorn.
"But I didn't know--they might suspect?" suggested Ruth, meekly.
"They do. Gypsies."
"Gypsies!" cried Ruth and Helen together. And then the latter began:
"Oh, girls! listen to what happened to Ruth and me only a week ago!"
"Wait a bit, dear," broke in Ruth. "Let us know a little more about the
lost necklace. Why do they think the Gypsies took it?"
"I'll tell you," said The Fox. "You see, this aunt of Nettie's is very,
very rich. She comes from California, and she was on to visit the
Parsons last spring.
"There was a tribe of Gypsies camping near the Parsons estate. They all
went over to have their fortunes told--just for a lark, you know. It was
after dinner one evening, and there was company. Nettie's Aunt Rachel
had dressed her best, and she wore the necklace to the Gypsy camp.
"That very night the Parsons' house was robbed. Not much was taken
except the aunt's jewel-box and some money she had in her desk. The
robbers were frightened away before they could go to any of the other
suites.
"The next day the Gypsies had left their encampment, too. Of course,
there was nothing to connect the robbery with the Gyps., save
circumstantial evidence. The police didn't find either the Gypsies or
the necklace. But Aunt Rachel offered five thousand dollars' reward for
the return of the pearls."
"Just think of that!" gasped Helen. "Five thousand dollars. My, Ruthie!
wouldn't you like to win _that_?"
"Indeed I would," returned her chum, with longing.
"But I guess the Gypsies _we_ were mixed up with never owned a pearl
necklace like that. They didn't look as though they had anything but the
gaily colored rags they stood in--and their horses."
"What do you know about Gypsies?" asked The Fox.
"A whole lot," cried Helen. "Let me tell you," and she proceeded to
repeat the story of their adventure with Queen Zelaya and her tribe.
Ruth said nothing during the story; her mind was busy with the mystery
of the missing necklace.