CHAPTER XXIITHE TWINS’ ALARM
It was fully an hour after theLauriettehad chugged away from the dock at the island where the moving picture company was established that the motor-boat which had been to Oak Point returned with Tom Cameron aboard.
Tom, with the other men who had been exploring and fishing all day, was ravenously hungry, but he went around to the veranda of the chief bungalow where his twin sister and Ruth stayed to see how they were before even going to wash and to see if he could bribe one of the cooks to set out “a cold snack.”
Tom found Helen on the porch, alone. At a glance, too, he saw that she was not in a pleasant mood.
“What’s gone wrong?” demanded Tom. And with a brother’s privilege of being plain-spoken, he added: “You look cross. Go in search of your temper.”
“Who says I’ve lost it?” demanded Helen sharply.
“I Cagliostro—Merlin—wizard that I am,” chuckled Tom. “I am still little Brighteyes, and I can see just as far into a spruce plank as the next one.”
“Well, I am mad, if you want to know,” sniffed Helen.
“Where’s Ruth?”
“She’s whom I am mad at,” declared the girl, nodding.
“I don’t believe it,” said Tom soothingly. “We could not really be mad at Ruth Fielding.”
“Don’t you feel that way yourself—the way she acts with Chess Copley?”
“I wouldn’t mind punching ’Lasses’ head,” returned Tom. “But that’s different.”
“Is that so? What do you know about their being out on the river together right now? Humph!”
“Where have they gone?” asked her brother. “Why aren’t you with them? Are they alone?”
This brought out the full particulars of the affair, and Tom listened to the end of a rather excited account of what had happened that afternoon—both on the island where Helen and Ruth had been “marooned” and here at the camp—together with the suspicions and curiosity about the island which had been dubbed the Kingdom of Pipes. Nor did it lack interest in Tom’s ears in spite of his sister’s rather excited way of telling it.
“But look here,” he asked. “Why didn’t you go with Ruth and ’Lasses?”
“Humph! They didn’t want me,” sniffed Helen.
“Now, Helen, you know better. Ruth never slighted you in the world. I know her better than that.”
“Well, she makes too much of Chess Copley. She is always praising him up to me. And I don’t like it. I’ll treat him just as I want to—so there!”
Tom looked rather sober at this. He hesitated a moment. He wanted to ask his pettish sister a question, but evidently did not know how to go about it.
“It can’t be helped now, I suppose. They will be back after a while. Where were they going besides to that crazy fellow’s island?”
“Just there. That’s all.”
“Come on and watch me eat. I’m starved.”
“Thanks! I watched the pythons fed at the zoo once,” said Helen with unwonted sharpness. “I will sit here till the scene of savagery is over. You can come back.”
“You are in a fine mood, I see,” observed Tom, and went off chuckling.
Nevertheless, he was not feeling very happy himself over the thought that Ruth and Chess Copley were out on the river together.
“Looks mighty fishy,” muttered Tom Cameron. “I could punch ’Lasses’ head, the way I feel.”
These thoughts seemed to take Tom’s appetite away. To his sister’s surprise, he returned in a very few minutes to the front porch of the bungalow.
“I told you that you had boa-constrictor habits,” she gasped. “Why, Tom Cameron! you must have swallowed your supper whole.”
“I didn’t swallow as much as I expected,” returned the young man, smiling. But he grew serious again. “How long was Chess going to stay out in his boat?” he asked.
“You don’t suppose that I saw him go?” asked Helen, with surprise.
“Do you know that it is after eleven o’clock?” said her brother. “If they went no further than that crazy man’s island, what do you suppose is keeping them?”
“Mercy’s sake! is that the time, Tommy-boy? Why, the crazy man himself must be keeping them! Do you suppose the King of the Pipes has captured Ruth and Chess?”
“Don’t try to be funny,” advised Tom. “It may be no laughing matter.”
“Well, I like that!”
“I don’t think that Chess would keep her out so late if everything was all right. Sure they were not going to Copley Island?”
“Sure. The girls have gone away. There’s no fun going on there.”
“Well, of course the motor-boat may have broken down. Such things happen,” said Tom reflectively.
“Now you have got me stirred up,” cried Helen. “I had no idea it was so late. And Ruthie does not believe in late hours.”
“She would not stay out on the river with me half the night, that is sure,” grumbled Tom.
“Oh, Tommy-boy!” exclaimed his sister, “I don’t believe she cares so much for Chess. I really don’t.”
“Well, that is not here nor there. What’s to be done? Where’s Mr. Hammond—or Willie?”
“They haven’t got back from Chippewa Bay with theGem.”
“This clumsy oldTamarackis too big for me to handle alone. And the boys have all gone to bed by this time.”
“The canoes aren’t too big for us to handle,” Helen said.
“Us?”
“Yes. I insist on going, too, if you start out to look for theLauriette. And it will look better too. If we are simply paddling about, there being nothing the matter with Chess and Ruth, they won’t be able to laugh at us. Come on!”exclaimed Helen, picking up her sweater. “I am a loyal sister, Tom Cameron.”
“Right-o!” he agreed, more cheerfully. “I suppose there really is nothing the matter. Yet, whatever else Chess Copley is, he’s not the sort of fellow to keep a girl out till midnight on the river when there is nobody else along.”
“Humph! Do you think Ruth is a mere chit of a flapper? You are old-fashioned, Tommy-boy. The day of the chaperon is about over.”
“You know it isn’t over in our set, and never will be,” he returned. “You girls have a lot of freedom, I admit. But there are limits.”
“Baa!” was Helen’s utterly impudent remark.
They ran down to the shore and got out one of the canoes. Helen was familiar with the use of the paddle and served her brother as a good second. They drove the canoe out into the open river, but only just for a look up its expanse.
There was no motor-boat in sight or hearing—not even the distant lights of one. The current was so strong that the Cameron twins went back among the islands where the water was smoother. Besides, it was much more romantic, Helen said wickedly, among the islands, and Chess and Ruth were more likely to remain in the tortuous passages.
The two laid a pretty direct course, however, for the Kingdom of Pipes. As they spied it, anddrew nearer, Tom suddenly stopped paddling and held up his hand.
“What’s the matter?” demanded his sister, likewise raising her paddle out of the water.
“Listen,” warned Tom.
Faintly there came the noise of a motor-boat to their straining ears.
“Here they are!” shrilled Helen.
“Will you be still?” demanded her brother. “That’s not Copley’s boat. It’s a deal bigger craft. She’s on the other side of the island.”
Helen leaned forward and caught at his sleeve. “Look there!” she whispered. “There is theLauriette.”
She had been the first to see the outline of the Copley launch moored close to the shore of the island at its upper end.
“They’ve gone ashore,” said Tom. “Where can they be? If that other boat is approaching this island——”
“Oh, Tom! The pirates!”
“Oh, fudge!”
“The smugglers, then. Chess said he believed there were smugglers here.”
“What do they smuggle?” demanded Tom with some scorn.
“I don’t know. He did not seem very clear about it.”
“Just the same,” Tom observed, sinking hispaddle again in the water, “there may be trouble in the air.”
“Trouble on the river, I guess you mean,” giggled Helen.
But she giggled because she was excited and nervous. She was quite as alarmed as Tom was over the possibility that Chess and Ruth had got into some difficulty on the King of the Pipes’ island.
CHAPTER XXIIITROUBLE ENOUGH
Returning to Ruth Fielding in the cavern: Although her heart beat rapidly and she really was fearful, she showed little perturbation in her countenance and manner after she had talked with Charley Pond, if that was the real name of the King of the Pipes.
Just how mentally disturbed the old man was it was difficult for the girl to judge. But she feared that he had, after all his claims, absolutely no influence with the Chinamen.
She believed that the leader of the Orientals was the heavy-set Chinaman who had struck Chessleigh Copley down with the club. The others—some smoking the little brass pipes, and others not smoking—were probably men who were endeavoring to get into the States without the knowledge of the emigration authorities. Indeed, they were already in New York. This island was south of the American line. But from the Kingdom of Pipes to any city where the Chinamenwould be safe from apprehension was a pretty big jump.
As for the opium—the smoke of which Ruth smelled now for the first time—she had no idea how that commodity might be handled or disposed of. She knew that it was valuable, even when imported for medicinal purposes. There was a heavy tariff on it, as well as restrictions upon the trading in it.
If those boxes—each as heavy as a man could lift and which she and Chess had seen brought ashore on this island—contained opium, there might be many thousand of dollars’ worth of the drug, in its paste form, here now. Perhaps it was hidden somewhere in this cave.
Ruth had seated herself upon the end of one of the low tables. She knew that all the furniture in the cavern, including the rugs, must be of Chinese manufacture. There could be no doubt that the place was fitted up for the convenience of the Orientals.
She looked about, trying to penetrate the obscurity of the place. Were there passages besides the one by which she and Chess had been dragged in? Were there other apartments in the cavern, shut off by some of the hanging rugs which she saw?
Her principal thought, however, was of the possibility of escape. And she wished heartilythat she and Copley could get out of the cave before the arrival of the “others” of whom the King of the Pipes had spoken. Whoever they might be—or whether Horatio Bilby was one of them—Ruth did not want to meet the smugglers and Chinese runners.
She feared very much for her safety, and for that of her companion. The law-breakers would know immediately that their safety was threatened. They must know that if they allowed Ruth and Chess to depart from the cave, their presence here and what they were doing would be reported to the police. And men like Bilby, who would stoop to anything for money, were not likely to give over such a profitable business as the smuggling of opium without a fight.
Just how much did Bilby and his companions care for the law? It was a question that created no little anxiety in Ruth’s mind. And she wondered, too, what Chess thought about it.
The young fellow lay upon the floor of the cavern, silent and immovable. She was quite sure, by the exceedingly knowing wink that he had given her, that he was neither panic-stricken nor seriously hurt. He was merely waiting to see what would turn up.
And what would happen when the new chance did turn up? Already Chess was in opposition to at least seven Chinamen, if he attempted anything.And if those the old man had spoken of, likewise appeared, what could Copley do against such numbers?
There was nothing Ruth, herself, could do. She sat quietly on the end of the low table and looked sadly about the dimly lighted place. This was certainly a situation from which her usually ingenious mind could invent no means of escape.
Suddenly the old man who called himself the monarch of this island came from the corner where he had been standing, watching Ruth, and made his way swiftly to the entrance to the cave. The big Chinaman got up and looked at him. The King of the Pipes waved his hand and pointed through the passage.
It seemed to be sufficiently clear—that gesture—for the Chinaman began to gabble to his friends. They scrambled to their feet—all but two who had fallen into a sluggish state after their indulgence in the use of the drug. They looked toward the cavern entrance. The King of the Pipes disappeared through the passage.
Ruth stole a stealthy glance at Chess. She saw that he had moved. He was lying with his right hand covered by his body. There seemed an alertness about him—in posture and in gleaming, half-closed eyes—that startled Ruth. What had the young fellow in his mind to do. For what was he waiting?
In a minute she heard the ring of quick steps upon the rock-floor of the tunnel.
Ruth shrank away from the table and stood at her companion’s head. What would the newcomers—Bilby, perhaps—do to Copley and to her?
And it was Bilby! The little, red-faced, greenish-eyed man, projected himself into the cavern as though he had been shot out of a gun.
“What’s the matter here? What’s going on, I want to know? That crazy-head is trying to tell me something—Ye gods! A girl?”
He saw Ruth vaguely. Then he glanced down at the prostrate Copley.
“Who knocked him out?” demanded Bilby.
The burly Chinaman was the one he addressed, who answered in a form of English:
“Allee same me. I get um, Mist’ Blibly.”
“For mercy’s sake!” whined Bilby, wringing his fat hands. “These people aren’t police. They are some of the summer visitors. Now wearein a mess!”
“Allee same look-see,” growled the Chinaman. He kicked Chessleigh, and not gently. “Number one sneakee—him! She——”
He nodded violently toward Ruth, thus drawing Bilby’s attention to the girl. Bilby strained his fat neck forward to see the girl more closely.There were other sounds coming from the passage.
“What’s doing, Mr Bilby?” asked a gruff voice.
The fat little man was panting. He pointed waveringly at Ruth.
“Here’s a pretty mess,” he gasped. “What between these Chinks and that crazy old duffer, they have got me in a nice mess. I know this girl. She belongs to that moving picture outfit. Now what are we going to do?”
“Knock her in the head,” was the advice of the growling voice.
The advice probably was not intended to be followed. It was said perhaps to scare Ruth. But it excited somebody else besides the girl of the Red Mill.
Before Bilby could reply or anybody else could speak, Copley came to his feet with all the suddenness of a jumping-jack. Bilby squealed and started back, falling against the gruff man who had followed him into the cave and who was evidently the boatman.
“What’s this?” ejaculated this man.
But that was all he said. The Chinamen squealed in unison, and that was all from them. Bilby himself faintly groaned.
“Put your hands up—all of you!” commanded Copley, and one of the most amazing things aboutthe whole wild extravaganza was that the young fellow’s voice was perfectly unshaken.
Lads that have been in the army are apt to consider circumstances like these as meat and drink to them. Chessleigh had not served Uncle Sam in vain. He was as cool as the proverbial cucumber!
“Put your hands up—all of you! There are ten shots in this magazine and every one of them will get its man. Quick! Up with ’em!”
In all probability only one of the Chinamen understood this strictly American form of expression. But when the burly Chinaman elevated his yellow hands, his fellow countrymen did the same.
As for Bilby and the boatman, they reached toward the roof of the cavern hastily. There was no hesitation on their part. Although Copley was alone, his unwavering attitude and the threat of the automatic pistol, played hob with such shreds of courage as the malefactors possessed.
CHAPTER XXIVA LETTER COMES
Nobody had come through the passage into the cave save Bilby and the boatman. Chess stood where he could keep half an eye, at least, upon the opening, and although the passage was filled with shadow he was quite sure there was nobody lurking there who was friendly to the law-breakers.
“Just step around behind those two men and see if they are armed, Miss Ruth, will you?” went on Copley. “Take ’em from behind. Don’t get in line with my pistol. For if I begin to shoot, somebody is bound to get hit. Keep your hands up, you fellows!” and he gestured toward the Chinamen.
Even the two of their number who had been half-overcome with the fumes of opium had come to attention when Chess produced his pistol. The Chinamen huddled together at one side. The boatman and Bilby were opposite the doorway of the tunnel. Ruth promptly obeyed Chess andwent around behind the last-named two of the enemy.
Ruth hesitated a moment in the dusk there at the opening of the passage. She hated to touch either Bilby or the other man. But probably both of them were armed, and for the sake of safety their weapons must be taken from them.
While she hesitated she heard a faint rustle in the passage. Then came the softest possible whisper:
“Ss-st!”
Ruth jumped and glanced over her shoulder. Was it friend or enemy who evidently tried to attract her attention by this sibilant sound?
A figure moved in the gloom. Before she could cry any warning to Copley an arm was put firmly about her and Ruth was almost lifted to one side. She saw the gleam of a weapon in the other hand of her neighbor, and the point of this weapon was dug suddenly into the broad back of the gruff boatman who was Bilby’s companion.
“Don’t get nervous, ’Lasses,” came in Tom Cameron’s voice. “We’re all friends here. Ah! A nice automatic pistol from our friend, Mr. Bilby. Just so. Here, Nell!”
But it was Ruth’s hand that took the captured weapon, although Helen stood at her side squeezing her other hand and whispering:
“My goodness, Ruthie, what a perfectly glorious experience! Are those the real smugglers?”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” replied her friend. Then she accepted the revolver extracted from the hip pocket of the boatman by Tom Cameron. “Where is the King of the Pipes?”
“Taking the air. We heard the talk below here through the hollow tree. Do you know,” whispered Helen, “that old beech is a regular chimney. And we saw the boat come here. Then we grabbed the King of the Pipes outside.”
“Tom did not hurt him, I hope?” murmured Ruth.
“Not a bit of it. In fact, the queer old fellow said he was willing to abdicate in Tom’s favor, and now, I suppose, Tommy-boy is King of the Pipes,” and Helen, the irrepressible, grinned.
The two ex-army men, however, took the matter quite seriously. Tom disarmed the Chinamen as well as the white men. And to search and disarm a squirming Oriental, they found not easy work.
“But I disarmed enough Fritzies in Europe to learn my job pretty well. How’s the weather, Sergeant?”
“All right here, Captain Cameron,” said Copley seriously.
“Then I’ll back out with this bunch of junk.Here’s a pair of brass knuckles in the bunch. I’ll use ’em on any of these fellows who try to run. We’ll keep ’em hived up here till the police come. One fellow can hold ’em. Unless they try to climb up that hollow beech tree.”
“No fear,” said Copley. “Get the girls out first.”
Tom had already loaded both Ruth and Helen down with the loot from the malefactors’ pockets. He motioned to the girls to leave the cavern.
“Hold on! Hold on!” Bilby cried. “I beg of you, don’t leave me with these men. I only happen to be here by chance—”
“A bad chance for you, then,” said Chess Copley. “Don’t listen to him, Captain Cameron.”
“No, don’t listen to him,” said Ruth severely. “I know he is worse than the others. Why, Tom! he is the man who has made us all that trouble about Wonota and my picture.”
“Sure,” agreed Tom. “I know the snake. Go ahead, girls. Chess and I will follow you. And one of us will be right in this passage all the time,” he added, addressing the two white men. “Don’t make any mistake. We’ll shoot if you try to come out until you are told to.”
The girls were already feeling their way through the darkness of the tunnel. At the turn Ruth kicked something, and, stooping, securedChess’ electric torch. She pressed the switch and the illumination allowed the two young men to overtake them with more certainty, Chess backing out with his pistol trained on the opening into the cavern.
When once the four friends were around the turn and out of hearing of the prisoners, Tom Cameron began to chuckle.
“This is no laughing matter!” exclaimed his sister. “I am so excited I don’t know what to do.”
“Keep right on,” said Ruth. “I want to get home just as soon as I can. I don’t believe I shall care hereafter to leave the island until we are through with the picture and can go back to the Red Mill. What are you laughing about, Tom Cameron?”
“I don’t know how ’Lasses is fixed,” said the amused Tom. “But my pistol isn’t loaded. It is my old service automatic and needs repairing, anyway.”
“Don’t fret, Cameron. Mine is loaded all right,” said Chess grimly.
“Then you stay and guard the cave,” said Tom.
“You bet you! You couldn’t get me away from here until you have sent for the sheriff and he comes for the gang. I believe we have done a good night’s work.”
“Oh, you were wonderful!” Helen burst out. “And Ruth says they knocked you down and hurt you.”
“I shall get over that all right,” returned Chess quietly.
But when they were out of the passage and on the open shore Helen insisted upon fussing around Chessleigh, bathing the lump on his head, and otherwise “mothering” him in a way that secretly delighted Ruth. Tom looked at his sister in some amazement.
“What do you know about that?” he whispered to Ruth. “She was as sore at him as she could be an hour ago.”
“You don’t know your own sister very well, Tom,” retorted Ruth.
“Humph!” ejaculated Tom Cameron. “Perhaps we fellows don’t understand any girl very well.”
But Ruth was not to be led into any discussion of that topic then. It was agreed that she and Helen and Tom should hurry back to the motion picture camp at once.
“The King of the Pipes won’t bite you,” Tom said to Chess. “Only don’t let him go back into the cave. Those fellows might do him some harm. And the sheriff will want him for a witness against the gang. He is not so crazy as he makes out to be.”
The night’s adventures were by no means completed, for Ruth and Helen could not go to bed after they reached the bungalow until they knew how it all turned out. Mr. Hammond had returned before them, and Willie and Tom started at once for Chippewa Bay in theGem.
The capture of Bilby in connection with the smugglers and Chinese runners delighted the motion picture producer.
“That will settle the controversy, I believe,” Mr. Hammond said to the two girls. “Bilby’s attempt to annoy us must fall through now. We will get Totantora and Wonota back from Canada and finish the picture properly. But, believe me! I have had all the experience I want with freak stars. The expense and trouble I have been put to regarding Wonota has taught me a lesson. I’d sell my contract with Wonota to-morrow—or after the picture is done—for a song.”
Ruth looked at him steadily for a moment.
“Do you mean that, Mr. Hammond?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, I do.”
Helen laughed. “I guess Ruth is thinking of singing that song. Ruth believes in Wonota.”
“If I could carry the tune,” her chum said, more lightly. “We’ll talk of that later, Mr. Hammond.”
“Oh, I would give you first chance, Miss Ruth,” said the producer. “By the way,” and he turned to his desk. “I brought mail from the town. Here are several letters for you, Miss Ruth, and one for Miss Cameron.”
The girls began to open their letters as soon as they reached their room. But it was Helen’s single epistle that created the most excitement.
“It’s from Carrie Perrin,” she said to Ruth. Then, in a moment, she uttered a cry that drew Ruth’s full attention. “Listen to this! What do you know about this, Ruth?”
“What is it, my dear?” asked her chum, in her usual composed manner.
“Just think of that!” cried Helen, in tears. “And I have treated him so hatefully. He’ll never forgive me in this world, I suppose. It is about Chess,” she sobbed, and handed her chum the letter.
CHAPTER XXVTHE HEART’S DESIRE
“And what do you think of this, Nell? I’ve wormed out of Bill Kenmore the truth about that mean joke the boys played on us last spring when we were all at Jennie Stone’s. Excuse! I suppose I should say Madame Marchand’s. To think of Heavy Stone being an old married woman now!
“Well, Bill Kenmore always did have a crazy streak—and he wasn’t shell-shocked in France, either. You remember the time you went away down town in answer to a telegram, thinking it was somebody who needed you very much, and you walked into that place and found the boys all dressed up and ready to give you the ‘ha, ha!’?
“I know it got you awfully mad—and I don’t blame you. Chess was there, I know. But he didn’t even know what the row was all about. Bill engineered the whole thing, and he thinks still that it was an awfully good joke. His ideas of humor must have originated in the Stone Age.
“I made him tell me all about it, he thinking I would be amused. Then I turned him right out of our parlor and told him not to call again. I hear that he thinks I am a regular cat!
“But who wouldn’t be cattish with a fellow who has no more sense? Anyhow, we know the truth now. Perhaps Chess Copley is not very sharp, but I couldn’t think of his doing anything really mean. So now you know. If Chess is up there at the Thousand Islands you can tell him from me, at least, that ‘all is forgiven.’ Sounds like a newspaper personal, doesn’t it?”
Ruth stopped reading there, and looked brightly at her chum.
“What do you think of that?” asked the latter, wiping her eyes.
“Well, my dear, I shouldn’t cry about it,” said Ruth. “I think it is an occasion to be joyful.”
“But, Chess—”
“Is of a forgiving nature, I think,” Ruth said. “At any rate, I would not let the matter stand between me and a nice boy friend any longer. I could never suspect Chess of doing an unkind thing.”
“But I have wronged him!” cried Helen, who was, after all, tender-hearted.
“Do you know,” said her friend, “I believe youcan make it up to him very nicely, if you want to, Helen?”
TheGemreturned to the island just at daybreak. The girls ran down to the dock to meet the returned young men and Willie. Chess Copley had come to get his own motor-boat, and the report they made of the end of the smuggling affair was very satisfactory.
The sheriff and his posse in a big motor-boat had gone to the Kingdom of Pipes and relieved Chess of his duty as guardian of the cave. The Chinamen, who were hiding there until they could be shipped into the States dressed in feminine garments, were all handcuffed, together with the owner of the launch and Horatio Bilby, and loaded into the sheriff’s launch.
“And you should have heard Bilby squeal,” said Tom. “There is one bad egg who is likely to pay a considerable penalty for his crimes. He’ll not get out of the mess very easy.”
“What of the King of the Pipes?” asked Ruth.
“Poor old Charley-Horse Pond,” Willie, the boatman, said, “will be detained as a witness. Already he has got a new name for himself. He isn’t ‘King of the Pipes’ any longer.”
“What do you mean?” Ruth inquired, for she was interested in the queer old man and his fate.
“He told me that he was Major André,” chuckled Willie. “He is a Number One spy.The sheriff knows him well and knows there isn’t a mite of harm in him.”
Later it came out that the old man had been living on the island for some time, having found the cave there. The smugglers of opium and the Chinese found him there and made use of him. But when the court proceedings came on, Pond was merely used by the prosecution as a witness. His harmlessness was too apparent for the court to doubt him.
That particular day had to be a day of rest for Ruth and her friends, for they had had no sleep the night before. But while they slept Mr. Hammond’s representative went in search of Totantora and Wonota and the two Osage Indians were brought back to the moving picture camp before night.
The work of making the last scenes of “The Long Lane’s Turning” was taken up at once, and until the last scene was taken Ruth and her associates were very busy indeed. The Cameron twins spent most of the ensuing time with the Copleys and the other summer visitors. And it was noticeable that Helen was attended by Chess Copley almost everywhere she went.
Tom saw this with some wonder; but he found very little opportunity to talk to Ruth about it. And when he tried to question Helen regardingher change toward Chess, she quite ignored the subject.
“Looks to me,” Tom said to himself, “as though I was shut out in the cold. I wish I hadn’t come up here. I might as well be slaving in that old office. Gee, I’m an unlucky dog!”
For Tom, no more than Helen, could not see that Ruth’s attitude toward the matter of strenuous occupation for a wealthy young man was a fair one. Tom certainly had none of Uncle Jabez Potter’s blood in his veins.
The big scene at the end of the picture—the throne room of the French king—was as carefully made as the other parts of the picture had been. And because of Ruth’s coaching Wonota did her part so well that Mr. Hooley was enthusiastic—and to raise enthusiasm in the bosom of a case-hardened director is no small matter.
“The Boss is rather sore on the whole business,” Hooley said to Ruth. “It has been an expensive picture, I admit. We have gone away over the studio estimate.
“But that is not my fault, nor your fault, nor the Indian girl’s fault. Mr. Hammond is not to be blamed either, I suppose, for feeling worried. The motion picture business is getting to that stage now where lavish expenditure must be curtailed. I fancy Mr. Hammond will make only five-reel program pictures for some time. Andwhere will your big feature pictures come in, Miss Fielding?”
“The program pictures are sure-fire, I suppose,” the girl admitted. “But it doesn’t take much of a story to make those. Nor does it give the stars as good a chance.”
“Well, lean years may be coming. We shall all have to draw in our horns. Remember me, Miss Fielding, if you decide to produce with some other firm. I like to work with you, and I have a more or less elastic contract with the Alectrion Corporation.”
Ruth actually did have an idea for the future. It was in embryo as yet. But, as will be seen in the next volume of this series, entitled, “Ruth Fielding Treasure Hunting; Or, A Moving Picture that Became Real,” it led the girl of the Red Mill into new fields and drew her and her friends into new adventures.
The last scene being completed, Ruth and Helen packed their trunks. But Helen was to ship hers to the Copley’s island up the river, where she would stay for a week or so before returning to Cheslow. Ruth was going back to the Red Mill, and after that she was not sure of her movements.
Tom would accompany her home. She was glad of this, for she knew that, once at home, he must of necessity take up his work again withhis father. Tom Cameron, however, confessed that he “hated” the dry goods business.
Chess Copley showed his appreciation of Ruth’s kindness and friendship in a very pretty way indeed. He came to her secretly with a jeweler’s box in his hand.
“You know, Ruth, you have been just like a sister to me since you have been up here. I think as much of you as I do of Sara and Jean—I declare I do! And I know Helen—or—or anybody, won’t mind if you wear this little trinket. When you wear it remember you’ve got a good friend whose initials are engraved on the inside.”
Ruth accepted the present frankly, for she liked Chess. But she did not know how beautiful the bracelet was until after Copley had disappeared in hisLauriette. It was more costly than Ruth thought a present from that source should be.
So, rather doubtful, she said nothing to Tom Cameron about the bracelet, although she wore it. She knew that she would have refused such a present from Tom himself. But, then—there was a difference!
She did not intend to be rushed into any agreement with Tom Cameron that would at all interfere with her freedom. She still had her career in mind.
They got back to Cheslow early in July. And how glad Aunt Alvirah was to see her pretty. Asfor Uncle Jabez, his interest was in the commercial end of the picture Ruth had made.
Was it going to make money when it was distributed? How much money had Ruth already drawn in advance royalties? And a multitude of other questions of that character came from the old miller’s lips.
“And when do you begin on another of them pictures, Niece Ruth?” he added. “You ain’t going to stop now, when there is so much to be made in ’em?”
“I do not know exactly what I shall do next,” she told him, shaking her head. “But I think I shall try to make my next picture under different circumstances. But as I don’t really know, how can I tell you?”
“Never mind, my pretty,” put in Aunt Alvirah, “you are here with us now, and that means a lot. You certainly deserve a rest,” and the old woman placed an affectionate hand on Ruth’s shoulder.
At this the girl of the Red Mill smiled.
“Maybe I do,” she replied, “after all those strenuous happenings on the St. Lawrence.”
THE END
THE END
THE RUTH FIELDING SERIESBy ALICE B. EMERSON12mo.Illustrated.Price per volume,65cents, postpaid
THE RUTH FIELDING SERIES
By ALICE B. EMERSON
12mo.Illustrated.Price per volume,65cents, postpaid
RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILLor Jasper Parole’s SecretRUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOODHALLor Solving the Campus MysteryRUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMPor Lost in the BackwoodsRUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINTor Nita, the Girl CastawayRUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCHor Schoolgirls Among the CowboysRUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLANDor The Old Hunter’s Treasure BoxRUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARMor What Became of the Raby OrphansRUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIESor The Missing Pearl NecklaceRUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURESor Helping the Dormitory FundRUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIEor Great Days in the Land of CottonRUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGEor The Missing Examination PapersRUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLEor College Girls in the Land of GoldRUTH FIELDING IN THE RED CROSSor Doing Her Bit for Uncle SamRUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONTor The Hunt for a Lost SoldierRUTH FIELDING HOMEWARD BOUNDor A Red Cross Worker’s Ocean PerilsRUTH FIELDING DOWN EASTor The Hermit of Beach Plum PointRUTH FIELDING IN THE GREAT NORTHWESTor The Indian Girl Star of the MoviesRUTH FIELDING ON THE ST. LAWRENCEor The Queer Old Man of the Thousand IslandsRUTH FIELDING TREASURE HUNTINGor A Moving Picture that Became RealRUTH FIELDING IN THE FAR NORTHor The Lost Motion Picture CompanyRUTH FIELDING AT GOLDEN PASSor The Perils of an Artificial Avalanche
RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL
or Jasper Parole’s Secret
RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOODHALL
or Solving the Campus Mystery
RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP
or Lost in the Backwoods
RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT
or Nita, the Girl Castaway
RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH
or Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys
RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND
or The Old Hunter’s Treasure Box
RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM
or What Became of the Raby Orphans
RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES
or The Missing Pearl Necklace
RUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURES
or Helping the Dormitory Fund
RUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIE
or Great Days in the Land of Cotton
RUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGE
or The Missing Examination Papers
RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE
or College Girls in the Land of Gold
RUTH FIELDING IN THE RED CROSS
or Doing Her Bit for Uncle Sam
RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT
or The Hunt for a Lost Soldier
RUTH FIELDING HOMEWARD BOUND
or A Red Cross Worker’s Ocean Perils
RUTH FIELDING DOWN EAST
or The Hermit of Beach Plum Point
RUTH FIELDING IN THE GREAT NORTHWEST
or The Indian Girl Star of the Movies
RUTH FIELDING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE
or The Queer Old Man of the Thousand Islands
RUTH FIELDING TREASURE HUNTING
or A Moving Picture that Became Real
RUTH FIELDING IN THE FAR NORTH
or The Lost Motion Picture Company
RUTH FIELDING AT GOLDEN PASS
or The Perils of an Artificial Avalanche
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York
THE BETTY GORDON SERIESBy ALICE B. EMERSONAuthor of the Famous “Ruth Fielding” Series12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colorsPrice per volume, 65 cents, postpaid
THE BETTY GORDON SERIES
By ALICE B. EMERSON
Author of the Famous “Ruth Fielding” Series
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors
Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid