"THAT'S A PROMISE"
The family at the Red Mill were early risers When the red, red sun threw
his first rays across the frosty waters of the Lumano, Ruth Fielding's
casement was wide open and she was busily tripping about the kitchen where
her Uncle Jabez had built the fire in the range before going to the mill.
Ben, the hired man, was out doing the chores and soon brought two brimming
pails of milk into the milk-room.
"Aunt Alviry will miss ye, Ruthie, when ye air gone back to school," Ben
said bashfully, when Ruth, with capable air, began to strain the milk and
pour it into the pans.
"Poor Aunt Alvirah!" sighed Ruth. "I hope you help her all you can when
I'm not here, Ben?"
"I jest _do_!" said the big fellow, heartily. "T'tell the truth, Ruthie,
sometimes I kin scarce a-bear Jabe Potter. I wouldn't work for him another
month, I vow! if 'twasn't for the old woman--and--and _you_."
"Oh, thank you, Ben, for that compliment," cried Ruth, dimpling and
running into the kitchen to set back the coffee-pot in which the coffee
was threatening to boil over.
The breakfast dishes were not dried when the raucous "honk! honk! honk!"
of an automobile horn sounded without. The machine stopped at the gate of
the Potter house.
"My mercy! who kin that be?" demanded Aunt Alvirah, jerkily, and then
settled back into her chair again by the window with a murmured, "Oh, my
back! and oh, my bones!"
"It can't be Tom, can it?" gasped Ruth, running to the door. "So
early--and to see Miss Gray?" for the thought that Tom Cameron was
interested in the actress still stuck in Ruth's mind.
"It doesn't sound like Tom's horn," she added, as she struggled with the
outer door. "Oh, dear! I _do_ wish Uncle Jabez would fix this lock.
There!"
The door flew open, and swung out, its weight carrying Ruth with it plump
into the arms of a big man in a big fur coat which he had thrown open as
he ascended the steps of the porch.
Ruth was almost smothered in the coat. And she would have slipped and
fallen had not the stranger held her up, finally setting her squarely on
her feet at arm's length, steadying her there and laughing the while.
"I declare, young lady," he said in a pleasant voice, "I did not expect
to be met with such cordiality. Is this the way you always meet visitors
at this beautiful, picturesque old place?"
"Oh, oh, oh! I--I--I----"
Ruth could only gasp at first, her cheeks ruddy with blushes, her eyes
timid. Her tongue actually refused to speak two consecutive, sensible
words.
"I must say, my dear," said the gentleman who, Ruth now saw, was a man as
old as Mr. Cameron, "that you are as charming as the Red Mill itself. For,
of course, this _is_ the Red Mill? I was directed here from Cheslow."
"Oh, yes!" stammered Ruth. "This is the Red Mill. Did--did you wish to see
Uncle Jabez?"
"Perhaps. But that was not my particular reason for coming here," said the
stranger, laughing openly at her now. "I find his niece pleasanter to look
at, I have no doubt; though Uncle Jabez may be a very estimable man."
Ruth was puzzled. She glanced past him to the big maroon automobile at the
gate. Therein she saw the squat, pugnacious looking Mr. Grimes, and she
jumped to a correct conclusion.
"Oh!" she cried faintly. "_You_ are Mr. Hammond!"
"Perfectly correct, my dear. And who are you, may I ask?"
"Ruth Fielding. I live here, sir. We have Miss Gray with us."
"Quite so," said Mr. Hammond, nodding. "I have come to see Miss Gray--and
to take her away if she is well enough to be moved."
"Oh, she is all right, Mr. Hammond. Only she is still lying in bed. Aunt
Alvirah prevailed upon her to stay quiet for a while longer."
"And your Aunt Alvirah is probably right. But--may I come in? I'd like to
ask you a few questions, even if Hazel is not to be seen as yet."
"Oh, certainly, sir!" cried Ruth, thus reminded of her negligence. "Do
come in. Here, into the sitting room, please. It is warm in here, for
Uncle Jabez kept a fire all night, and I just put in a good-sized chunk
myself."
"Ah! an old-fashioned wood-heater, is it?" asked Mr. Hammond, following
Ruth into the sitting room. "That looks like comfort. I remember stoking a
stove like that when I was a boy."
Ruth liked this jolly, hearty, big man from the start. He was inclined to
joke and tease, she thought; but with it all he had the kindliest manner
and most humorous mouth in the world.
He turned to Ruth when the door was shut, and asked seriously: "My dear,
is Miss Gray where she can hear us talk?"
"Why, no, sir," replied Ruth, surprised. "The door is shut--and it is a
soundproof door, I am certain."
"Very well. I have heard Grimes' edition of the affair yesterday. Will you
please give me _your_ version of the accident? Of course, it _was_ an
accident?"
"Oh, yes, sir! Although that man ought not to have made her climb that
tree----"
Mr. Hammond put up a warning hand, and smiled again. "I do not ask you for
an opinion. Just for an account of what actually happened."
"But you intimated that perhaps Mr. Grimes was more at fault than he
actually _was_," said Ruth, boldly. "Surely he did not push her off that
tree!"
"No," said Mr. Hammond, drily. "Did she jump?"
"Jump! Goodness! do you think she is crazy?" demanded Ruth, so shocked
that she quite forgot to be polite.
"Then she did not jump," the manager of the Alectrion Film Corporation
said, quite placidly. "Very well. Tell me what you saw. For, I suppose,
you were on the spot?"
"Yes, sir," said Ruth, not quite sure just then that the gentleman was
altogether fair-minded. Later she understood that Mr. Hammond merely
desired to get the stories of the accident from the observers with neither
partiality nor prejudice.
Ruth repeated just what happened from the time she and her friends arrived
in the Cameron car on the scene, till they reached the Red Mill and Miss
Gray had been put to bed.
"Very clear and convincing. You are a good witness," declared Mr. Hammond,
lightly; but she saw that the story had left an unpleasant impression on
his mind. She did not see how he could blame the motion picture actress;
but she feared that he did.
When Ruth tried to probe into that question, however, Mr. Hammond
skilfully turned the subject to the picturesqueness of the Red Mill and
its surroundings.
"This would make a splendid background for a film," he said, with
enthusiasm. "We ought to have a story written around this beautiful old
place, with all the romance and human interest that must be connected with
the history of the house.
"Do you mind if we go out and look around a little? I would not disturb
Miss Gray until she is perfectly rested and feels like rising."
"Surely I will show you around, sir!" cried Ruth. "Let me get my coat and
hat."
She ran for her sweater and tam-o'-shanter, and joined Mr. Hammond on the
porch. Mr. Hammond said nothing to Grimes, but allowed him to remain in
the limousine.
Ruth took the moving picture magnate down to the shore of the river and
showed him the wheel and the mill-side. The old stone bridge over the
creek, too, was an object of interest. In fact, Ruth had thought so much
about the situation of the Red Mill as a picture herself, that she knew
just what would attract the gentleman's interest the most.
"I declare! I declare!" he murmured, over and over again. "It is better
than I thought. A variety of scene, already for the action to be put into
it! Splendid!"
"And I am sure," Ruth told him, "Uncle Jabez would not object to your
filming the old place. I could fix it for you. He is not so difficult when
once you know how to take him."
"I may ask your good offices in that matter," said Mr. Hammond. "But not
now. Of course, Grimes could work up something in short order to fit these
scenes here. He's excellent at that. But I think the subject is worthy of
better treatment. I'd like a really big story, treated artistically, and
one that would fit perfectly into the background of the Red Mill--nothing
slapdash and carelessly written, or invented on the spur of the moment by
a busy director----"
"Oh, Mr. Hammond!" cried Ruth, so excited now that she could no longer
keep silent. "I'd dearly love to write a moving picture scenario about the
old mill. And I've thought about it so much that I believe I could do
it."
"Indeed?" said Mr. Hammond, with one of his queer smiles. "Did you ever
write a scenario?"
"No, sir! but then, you know," said Ruth, naively, "one must always do a
thing for the first time."
"Quite true--quite true. So Eve said when she bit into the apple," and Mr.
Hammond chuckled.
"I would just _love_ to try it," the girl continued, taking her courage in
both hands. "I have a splendid plot--or, so I believe; and it is all about
the Red Mill. The pictures would _have_ to be taken here."
"Not in the winter, I fancy?" said Mr. Hammond.
"No, sir. When it is all green and leafy and beautiful," said Ruth,
eagerly.
"Then," said Mr. Hammond, more seriously, "I'd try my 'prentice hand, if I
were you, on something else. Don't write the Red Mill scenario now. Write
some thrilling but simple story, and let me read it first----"
"Oh, Mr. Hammond!" gasped Ruth, with clasped hands. "Will you really
_read_ it?"
"Of course I will," laughed the gentleman. "No matter how bad it is.
That's a promise. Here is my card with my private address upon it. You
send it directly to me, and the first time I am at home I will get it and
give it my best attention. That's a promise," he repeated.
"Oh, thank you, sir!" murmured Ruth delightedly, smiling and dimpling.
He pinched her cheek and his eyes grew serious for a moment. "I once knew
a girl much like you, Miss Ruth," he said. "Just as full of life and
enthusiasm. You are a tonic for old fogies like me."
"Old fogy!" repeated Ruth. "Why, I'm sure you are not old, Mr. Hammond."
"Never mind flattering me," he broke in, with assumed sternness. "Haven't
I already promised to read your scenario?"
"Yes, sir," said Ruth, demurely. "But you haven't promised to produce it."
"Quite so," and he laughed. "But _that_ only goes by worth. We will see
what a schoolgirl like you can do in writing a scenario. It will give you
practice so that you may be able to handle something really big about this
beautiful old place. You know, now that the most popular writers of the
day are turning their hands to movies, the amateur production has to be
pretty good to 'get by,' as the saying is."
"Oh! now you are trying to discourage me."
"No. Only warning you," Mr. Hammond said, with another laugh. "I'll send
you a little pamphlet on scenario preparation--it may help. And I hope to
read your first attempt before long."
"Thank you, sir," Ruth responded. "And if ever I write my Red Mill
scenario, I am going to write Miss Gray into it. She is just the one to
play the lead."
"And she is a good little actress I believe," said Mr. Hammond. "I knew
that Grimes had a girl that he wanted to push forward as the lead in this
company he has up here. I never like to interfere with my directors if I
can help it. But I will see that Miss Gray gets a square deal. She has had
good training in the legitimate drama, she is pretty, and she has pluck
and good breeding."
"That Mr. Grimes was horrid to her," repeated Ruth, casting a glance of
dislike at the man in the limousine.
"Oh, well, my dear, we cannot make people over in this world. That is
impossible. But I will take care that Hazel Gray gets a square deal.
_That's_ a promise, too, Ruth Fielding," and the gentleman laughed again.