A DAWNING POSSIBILITY
"Well, the evening's spoiled anyway," yawned Helen, seeing Ann braiding
her hair. "I might as well stop, too," and she closed her books with
relief.
"It's time small girls were on their way to the Land of Nod," said the
Western girl, taking the book from the resisting hand of Amy Gregg.
"Hullo! it's time _you_ were in bed, girlie, sure enough. Holding the book
upside down, no less! What do you know about that, ladies?"
"Certainly she should go to bed," Helen said sharply. "We're all sleepy.
Do hurry, child."
"Speak for yourself, Helen," snapped Amy. "I don't have to mind _you_, I
hope."
"You do if you want to get anywhere in this school--and mind every other
senior who is kind enough to notice you," said Ann. "You've not learned
that lesson yet."
"And I don't believe _you_ can teach me," responded the younger girl,
ready to quarrel with anybody. "Give me back my book!"
Ruth went to her and put her arm around Amy's neck. "Don't, dear, be so
fractious," she begged. "We had all to go through a process of 'fagging'
when we first came to Briarwood. It is good for us--part of the
discipline. I asked Mrs. Tellingham to let you come over here with us so
that you really would not be put upon----"
"I don't thank you!" snapped Amy, ungratefully. "I can look out for
myself, I guess. I always have."
"You're like the self-made man," drawled Ann. "You've made an awfully poor
job of it! You need a little discipline, my dear."
"Not from you!" cried the other girl, her eyes flashing.
It took Ruth several minutes to quiet this sea of trouble. It was half an
hour before Amy cried herself to sleep on her couch. The other girls had
both crept into bed and called to Ruth sleepily to put out the light. Ruth
was not undressed; but she did as they requested.
Then she went to the window and opened it. Nothing had been heard from
above since Mrs. Smith had looked in at the chamber door. But Ruth was
sure the grim old woman was waiting at her grandson's window, in the cold
shed bedroom, ready for Curly when he came in.
And Ruth was sure, too, that the boy had not dropped to the ground. _He
was still on the roof_.
"That was a tictac," Ruth told herself. She had heard Tom Cameron's too
many times to mistake the sound. "And Amy was expecting it. Curly had told
her what he was going to do. And now what will that reckless boy do, with
his grandmother waiting for him and every other window in the house
locked?"
"What are you doing there, Ruthie?" grumbled Ann. "O-o-oh! it's cold," and
she drew her comforter up around her shoulders and the next moment she was
asleep.
Helen never lay awake after her head touched the pillow, so Ruth did not
look for any questioning on her chum's part. And Amy had already wept
herself unhappily into dreamland.
"Poor kiddie!" thought Ruth, casting a commiserating glance again at Amy.
"And now for this silly boy. If the girls knew what I was going to do
they'd have a spasm, I expect," and she chuckled.
She leaned far out of the open window again, and, sitting on the
window-sill, turned her body so as to look up the slant of the steep roof.
"Curly!" she called softly. No answer. "Curly Smith!" she raised her voice
decisively. "If you don't come here I'll call your grandmother."
A figure appeared slowly from behind a chimney. Even at that distance Ruth
could see the figure shiver.
"Wha--what do you want?" asked the boy, shakingly.
"Come here, you silly boy!" commanded Ruth. "Do you want to get your death
of cold?"
"I--I----"
"Come down here at once! And don't fall, for pity's sake," was Ruth's
warning, as the boy's foot slipped. "My goodness! you haven't any shoes
on--and no cap--and just that thin coat. Curly Smith! you'll be down sick
after this."
"I'll be sick if Gran' catches me," admitted the boy. "She's layin' for me
at my window."
"I know," said Ruth, as the boy crept closer.
"You telltale girls told her, of course," growled the boy.
"We did not. Ann and Helen don't know. Amy is scared, but she's gone to
sleep. _She_ wouldn't tell."
"How did Gran' know, then?" demanded Curly, coming closer.
Ruth told him. The boy was both ashamed of his predicament and frightened.
"How can I get in, Ruth? I'd like to sneak downstairs into the sitting
room and lie down by the sitting room fire and get warm."
"You shall. Come in this way," commanded Ruth. "But, for pity's sake,
don't fall!"
"She'll find it out and lick me worse," said Curly, doubtfully.
"She won't. The girls are asleep, I tell you."
"Well, _you_ know it, don't you?" demanded Curly, with desperation.
"Curly Smith! If you think I'd tell on you, you deserve to stay out here
on this roof and freeze," declared Ruth, in anger.
"Oh, say! don't get mad," said Curly, fearing that she would leave him as
she intimated.
"Come on, then--and whisper. Not a sound when you get in the room. And for
pity's sake, Curly Smith--don't fall!"
"Not going to," growled the boy. "Look out and let me swing down to that
window-sill. Ugh! I 'most slipped then. Look out!"
Ruth wriggled back into the room and almost immediately Curly's unshod
feet appeared on the sill. She grasped his ankles firmly.
"Come in!" she whispered. "That's the boy! Quick, now!"
All this in low whispers. The girls did not stir, and Ruth had no light.
She could barely see the figure of the boy between her and the gray light
out-of-doors.
Curly dropped softly into the room. Ruth led him by the hand to the door,
which she opened softly. The hall was pitch dark, too.
"You're all right, Ruthie Fielding!" he muttered, as he passed her and
stepped into the hall. "I won't forget this."
Ruth thought it might be a warning to him. In the morning his grandmother
admitted having found the boy curled up in a rug and asleep before the
sitting-room fire.
"An' I thought he was out o' doors all the time," she said. "I ought to
punish him, anyway, I s'pose, for scaring me so."
Ruth Fielding spent all her spare time (and that was not much, for her
studies were just then very engrossing) in planning and sketching out the
five-reel drama in which she hoped to interest Mr. Hammond, head of the
Alectrion Film Corporation. She called up the Lumberton Hotel every day to
learn if the film company had arrived.
At length the clerk told her Mr. Hammond himself had come, and expected
his company the next day. Mr. Hammond was near and was soon speaking to
the girl of the Red Mill over the telephone.
"Is this the famous authoress of 'Curiosity?'" asked Mr. Hammond,
laughing. "I have received your signed contract and acceptance, and the
scenario is already in rehearsal. I hope everything is perfectly
satisfactory, Miss Fielding?"
"Oh, Mr. Hammond! I'm not joking. I want to see you very, very much."
"About 'Curiosity?'"
"Oh, no, sir! I'm very grateful to you for taking that and paying me for
it, as I told you," Ruth said. "But this is something different--and much
more important. _When_ can I see you?"
"Any time after breakfast and before bedtime, my dear," Mr. Hammond
assured her. "Do you want to come to town, or shall I come to Briarwood
Hall?"
"If you would come here you could see Mrs. Tellingham, too, and that would
be lots better," Ruth assured him.
"The principal of your school?" he asked, in surprise.
"Yes, Mr. Hammond. One of our buildings has burned down----"
"Oh! I saw that in the paper," interposed the gentleman. "It is too bad."
"It is tragic!" declared Ruth, earnestly. "There was no insurance, and all
us girls want to help build a new dormitory. I have a plan--and _you_ can
help----"
"We--ell," said Mr. Hammond, doubtfully. "How much does this mean?"
"I don't know. If the idea is as good as I think it is, Mr. Hammond," Ruth
told him, placidly, "you will make a lot of money, and so will Briarwood
Hall."
"Hullo!" ejaculated the gentleman. "You expect to show me how to make some
money? I thought you wanted a contribution."
"No. It is a bona fide scheme for making money," laughed Ruth. "Do run out
sometime to-day and let me talk you into it. You shall meet Mrs.
Tellingham, too."
The gentleman promised, and kept the promise promptly. He heard Ruth's
idea, approved of it with enthusiasm, and went over with her the briefly
outlined sketch for "The Heart of a Schoolgirl." He was able to suggest a
number of important changes in Ruth's plan, and his ideas were all helpful
and put with tact. Mr. Hammond and Mrs. Tellingham came to an
understanding and made a written agreement, too.
Many of the pictures were to be taken at Briarwood Hall. Mrs. Tellingham,
on behalf of the dormitory fund, was to have a certain interest in the
profits of the production. These legal and technical matters Ruth had
nothing to do with. She was able, with an untrammeled mind, to go on with
the actual work of writing the scenario.