IX
Ruth tried to control her perturbation and meet her guest with an unruffled countenance, but there was something about the bland smug countenance of Lieutenant Wainwright that irritated her. To have her first pleasant visit with Cameron suddenly broken up in this mysterious fashion, and Wainwright substituted for Cameron was somehow like taking a bite of some pleasant fruit and having it turn out plain potato in one’s mouth. It was so sudden, like that. She could not seem to get her equilibrium. Her mind was in a whirl of question and she could not focus it on her present caller nor think of anything suitable to say to him. She was not even sure but that he was noticing that she was distraught.
To have John Cameron leave in that precipitate manner at the sight of Harry Wainwright! It was all too evident that he had seen him through the window. But they were fellow townsmen, and had gone to school together! Surely he knew him! Of course, Harry was a superior officer, but Cameronwould not be the kind of man to mind that. She could not understand it. There had been a look in his face—a set look! There must be something behind it all. Some reason why he did not want to be seen by Wainwright. Surely Cameron had nothing of which to be ashamed! The thought brought a sudden dismay. What did she know about Cameron after all? A look, a smile, a bit of boyish gallantry. He might be anything but fine in his private life, of course, and Harry might be cognizant of the fact. Yet he did not look like that. Even while the thought forced itself into her mind she resented it and resisted it. Then turning to her guest who was giving an elaborate account of how he had saved a woman’s life in an automobile accident, she interrupted him:
“Harry, what do you know about John Cameron?” she asked impulsively.
Wainwright’s face darkened with an ugly frown.
“More than I want to know,” he answered gruffly. “He’s rotten! That’s all! Why?” He eyed her suspiciously.
There was something in his tone that put her on the defensive at once:
“Oh, I saw him to-day, and I was wondering,” she answered evasively.
“It’s one of the annoyances of army life that we have to be herded up with all sorts of cattle!” said Wainwright with a disdainful curl of his baby mustache. “But I didn’t come here to talk about John Cameron. I came to tell you that I’m going to be married, Ruth. I’m going to be married before I go to France!”
“Delightful!” said Ruth pleasantly. “Do I know the lady?”
“Indeed you do,” he said watching her with satisfaction. “You’ve known, for several years that you were the only one for me, and I’ve come to tell you that I won’t stand any more dallying. I mean business now!”
He crossed his fat leather puttees creakily and swelled out, trying to look firm. He had decided that he must impress her with the seriousness of the occasion.
But Ruth only laughed merrily. He had been proposing to her ever since he got out of short trousers, and she had always laughed him out of it. The first time she told him that she was only a kidand he wasn’t much more himself, and she didn’t want to hear any more such talk. Of late he had grown less troublesome, and she had been inclined to settle down to the old neighborly playmate relation, so she was not greatly disturbed by the turn of the conversation. In fact, she was too much upset and annoyed by the sudden departure of Cameron to realize the determined note in Wainwright’s voice.
“I mean it!” he said in an offended tone, flattening his double chin and rolling out his fat lips importantly. “I’m not to be played with any longer.”
Ruth’s face sobered:
“I certainly never had an idea of playing with you, Harry. I think I’ve always been quite frank with you.”
Wainwright felt that he wasn’t getting on quite as well as he had planned. He frowned and sat up:
“Now see here, Ruth! Let’s talk this thing over!” he said, drawing the big leather chair in which he was sitting nearer to hers.
But Ruth’s glance had wandered out of the window. “Why, there comes Bobbie Wetherill!” sheexclaimed eagerly and slipped out of her chair to the door just as one of Wainwright’s smooth fat hands reached out to take hold of the arm of her rocker. “I’ll open the door for him. Mary is in the kitchen and may not hear the bell right away.”
There was nothing for Wainwright to do but make the best of the situation, although he greeted Wetherill with no very good grace, and his large lips pouted out sulkily as he relaxed into his chair again to await the departure of the intruder.
Lieutenant Wetherill was quite overwhelmed with the warmth of the greeting he received from Ruth and settled down to enjoy it while it lasted. With a wicked glance of triumph at his rival he laid himself out to make his account of camp life as entertaining as possible. He produced a gorgeous box of bonbons and arranged himself comfortably for the afternoon, while Wainwright’s brow grew darker and his lips pouted out farther and farther under his petted little moustache. It was all a great bore to Ruth just now with her mind full of the annoyance about Cameron. At least she would have preferred to have had her talk with him and found out what he was with her own judgment. Butanything was better than, atête-à-têtewith Wainwright just now; so she ate bonbons and asked questions, and kept the conversation going, ignoring Wainwright’s increasing grouch.
It was a great relief, however, when about half-past four the maid appeared at the door:
“A long distance telephone call for you, Miss Ruth.”
As Ruth was going up the stairs to her own private ’phone she paused to fasten the tie of her low shoe that had come undone and was threatening to trip her, and she heard Harry Wainwright’s voice in an angry snarl:
“What business did you have coming here to-day, you darned chump! You knew what I came for, and you did it on purpose! If you don’t get out the minute she gets back I’ll put her wise to you and the kind of girls you go with in no time. And you needn’t think you can turn the tables on me, either, for I’ll fix you so you won’t dare open your fool mouth!”
The sentence finished with an oath and Ruth hurried into her room and shut the door with a sickkind of feeling that her whole little world was turning black about her.
It was good to hear the voice of her cousin, Captain La Rue, over the ’phone, even though it was but a message that he could not come as he had promised that evening. It reassured her that there were good men in the world. Of course, he was older, but she was sure he had never been what people called “wild,” although he had plenty of courage and spirit. She had often heard that good men were few, but it had never seemed to apply to her world but vaguely. Now here of a sudden a slur had been thrown at three of her young world. John Cameron, it is true, was a comparative stranger, and, of course, she had no means of judging except by the look in his eyes. She understood in a general way that “rotten” as applied to a young man’s character implied uncleanness. John Cameron’s eyes were steady and clear. They did not look that way. But then, how could she tell? And here, this very minute she had been hearing that Bobbie Wetherill’s life was not all that it should be and Wainwright had tacitly accepted the possibility of the same weakness in himself.These were boys with whom she had been brought up. Selfish and conceited she had often thought them on occasion, but it had not occurred to her that there might be anything worse. She pressed her hands to her eyes and tried to force a calm steadiness into her soul. Somehow she had an utter distaste for going back into that library and hearing their boastful chatter. Yet she must go. She had been hoping all the afternoon for her cousin’s arrival to send the other two away. Now that was out of the question and she must use her own tact to get pleasantly rid of them. With a sigh she opened her door and started down stairs again.
It was Wainwright’s blatant voice again that broke through the Sabbath afternoon stillness of the house as she approached the library door:
“Yes, I’ve got John Cameron all right now!” he laughed. “He won’t hold his head so high after he’s spent a few days in the guard-house. And that’s what they’re all going to get that are late coming back this time. I found out before I left camp that his pass only reads till eleven o’clock and the five o’clock train is the last one he can leave Chester on to get him to camp by eleven. So I hired a fellowthat was coming up to buddy-up to Cam and fix it that he is to get a friend of his to take them over to Chester in time for the train. The fellow don’t have to get back himself to-night at all, but he isn’t going to let on, you know, so Cam will think they’re in the same boat. Then they’re going to have a little bit of tire trouble, down in that lonely bit of rough road, that short cut between here and Chester, where there aren’t any cars passing to help them out, and they’ll miss the train at Chester. See? And then the man will offer to take them on to camp in his car and they’ll get stuck again down beyond Wilmington, lose the road, and switch off toward Singleton—you know, where we took those girls to that little out-of-the-way tavern that time—and you see Cam getting back to camp in time, don’t you?”
Ruth had paused with her hand on the heavy portiere, wide-eyed.
“But Cameron’ll find a way out. He’s too sharp. He’ll start to walk, or he’ll get some passing car to take him,” said Wetherill with conviction.
“No, he won’t. The fellows are all primed. They’re going to catch him in spots where cars don’t go, where the road is bad, you know, and nobodybut a fool would go with a car. He won’t be noticing before they break down because this fellow told him his man could drive a car over the moon and never break down. Besides, I know my men. They’ll get away with the job. There’s too much money in it for them to run any risk of losing out. It’s all going to happen so quick he won’t be ready for anything.”
“Well, you’ll have your trouble for your pains. Cam’ll explain everything to the officers and he’ll get by. He always does.”
“Not this time. They’ve just made a rule that no excuses go. There’ve been a lot of fellows coming back late drunk. And you see that’s how we mean to wind up. They are going to get him drunk, and then we’ll see if little Johnnie will go around with his nose in the air any longer! I’m going to run down to the tavern late this evening to see the fun my self!”
“You can’t do it! Cam won’t drink! It’s been tried again and again. He’d rather die!”
But the girl at the door had fled to her room on velvet shod feet and closed her door, her face white with horror, her lips set with purpose, herheart beating wildly. She must put a stop somehow to this diabolical plot against him. Whether he was worthy or not they should not do this thing to him! She rang for the maid and began putting on her hat and coat and flinging a few things into a small bag. She glanced at her watch. It was a quarter to five. Could she make it? If she only knew which way he had gone! Would his mother have a telephone? Her eyes scanned the C column hurriedly. Yes, there it was. She might have known he would not allow her to be alone without a telephone.
The maid appeared at the door.
“Mary,” she said, trying to speak calmly, “tell Thomas to have the gray car ready at once. He needn’t bring it to the house, I will come out the back way. Please take this bag and two long coats out, and when I am gone go to the library and ask the two gentlemen there to excuse me. Say that I am suddenly called away to a friend in trouble. If Aunt Rhoda returns soon tell her I will call her up later and let her know my plans. That is all. I will be down in two or three minutes and I wish to start without delay!”
Mary departed on her errand and Ruth went to the telephone and called up the Cameron number.
The sadness of the answering voice struck her even in her haste. Her own tone was eager, intimate, as she hastened to convey her message.
“Mrs. Cameron, this is Ruth Macdonald. Has your son left yet? I was wondering if he would care to be taken to the train in our car?”
“Oh! he hasjust gone!” came a pitiful little gasp that had a sob at the end of it. “He went in somebody’s car and they were late coming. I’m afraid he is going to miss his train and he has got to get it or he will be in trouble! That is the last train that connects with Wilmington.”
Ruth’s heart leaped to her opportunity.
“Suppose we try to catch him then,” proposed Ruth gleefully. “My car can go pretty fast, and if he has missed the train perhaps we can carry him on to Wilmington. Would you like to try?”
“Oh, could we?” the voice throbbed with eagerness.
“Hurry up then. My car is all ready. I’ll be down there in three minutes. We’ve no time to waste. Put on something warm!”
She hung up the receiver without waiting for further reply, and hurried softly out of the room and down the back stairs.
Thomas was well trained. The cars were always in order. He was used to Ruth’s hurry calls, and when she reached the garage she found the car standing in the back street waiting for her. In a moment more she was rushing on her way toward the village without having aroused the suspicion of the two men who so impatiently awaited her return. Mrs. Cameron was ready, eager as a child, standing on the sidewalk with a great blanket shawl over her arm and looking up the street for her.
It was not until they had swept through the village, over the bridge, and were out on the broad highway toward Chester that Ruth began to realize what a wild goose chase she had undertaken. Just where did she expect to find them, anyway? It was now three minutes to five by the little clock in the car and it was a full fifteen minutes’ drive to Chester. The plan had been to delay him on the way to the train, and there had been mention of a short cut. Could that be the rough stony road that turned down sharply just beyond the stone quarry?It seemed hardly possible that anybody would attempt to run a car over that road. Surely John Cameron knew the roads about here well enough to advise against it. Still, Ruth knew the locality like a book and that was the only short cut thereabout. If they had gone down there they might emerge at the other end just in time to miss the train, and then start on toward Wilmington. Or they might turn back and take the longer way if they found the short road utterly impassable. Which should she take? Should she dare that rocky way? If only there might be some tracks to guide her. But the road was hard and dusty and told no tales of recent travelers. They skimmed down the grade past the stone quarry, and the short cut flashed into view, rough and hilly, turning sharply away behind a group of spruce trees. It was thick woods beyond. If she went that way and got into any trouble with her machine the chances were few that anyone would some along to help. She had but a moment to decide, and something told her that the long way was the safe one and shorter in the end. She swept on, her engine throbbing with that pleasant purr of expensive well-groomed machinery, the car leapingforward as if it delighted in the high speed. The little woman by her side sat breathless and eager, with shining eyes, looking ahead for her boy.
They passed car after car, and Ruth scanned the occupants keenly. Some were filled with soldiers, but John Cameron was not among them. She began to be afraid that perhaps she ought after all to have gone down that hilly way and made sure they were not there. She was not quite sure where that short road came out. If she knew she might run up a little way from this further end.
The two women sat almost silent, straining their eyes ahead. They had said hardly a word since the first greeting. Each seemed to understand the thought of the other without words. For the present they had but one common object, to find John Cameron.
Suddenly, as far ahead as they could see, a car darted out of the wooded roadside, swung into their road and plunged ahead at a tremendous rate. They had a glimpse of khaki uniforms, but it was much too far away to distinguish faces or forms. Nevertheless, both women fastened their eyes upon it with but one thought. Ruth put on more speed andforged ahead, thankful that she was not within city lines yet, and that there was no one about to remind her of the speed limit. Something told her that the man she was seeking was in that car ahead.
It was a thrilling race. Ruth said no word, but she knew that her companion was aware that she was chasing that car. Mrs. Cameron sat straight and tense as if it had been a race of life and death, her cheeks glowing and her eyes shining. Ruth was grateful that she did not talk. Some women would have talked incessantly.
The other car did not go in to Chester proper at all, but veered away into a branch road and Ruth followed, leaping over the road as if it had been a gray velvet ribbon. She did not seem to be gaining on the car; but it was encouraging that they could keep it still in sight. Then there came a sharp turn of the road and it was gone. They were pulsing along now at a tremendous rate. The girl had cast caution to the winds. She was hearing the complacent sneer of Harry Wainwright as he boasted how they would get John Cameron into trouble, and all the force of her strong young will was enlisted to frustrate his plans.
It was growing dusk, and lights leaped out on the munition factories all about them. Along the river other lights flashed and flickered in the white mist that rose like a wreath. But Ruth saw nothing of it all. She was straining her eyes for the little black speck of a car which she had been following and which now seemed to be swallowed up by the evening. She had not relaxed her speed, and the miles were whirling by, and she had a growing consciousness that she might be passing the object of her chase at any minute without knowing it. Presently they came to a junction of three roads, and she paused. On ahead the road was broad and empty save for a car coming towards them. Off to the right was a desolate way leading to a little cemetery. Down to the left a smooth wooded road wound into the darkness. There were sign boards up. Ruth leaned out and flashed a pocket torch on the board. “To Pine Tree Inn, 7 Miles” it read. Did she fancy it or was it really true that she could hear the distant sound of a car among the pines?
“I’m going down this way!” she said decidedly to her companion, as if her action needed an explanation,and she turned her car into the new road.
“But it’s too late now,” said Mrs. Cameron wistfully. “The train will be gone, of course, even from Wilmington. And you ought to be going home. I’m very wrong to have let you come so far; and it’s getting dark. Your folks will be worrying about you. That man will likely do his best to get him to camp in time.”
“No,” said Ruth decidedly, “there’s no one at home to worry just now, and I often go about alone rather late. Besides, aren’t we having a good time? We’re going a little further anyway before we give up.”
She began to wonder in her heart if she ought not to have told somebody else and taken Thomas along to help. It was rather a questionable thing for her to do, in the dusk of the evening—to women all alone. But then, she had Mrs. Cameron along and that made it perfectly respectable. But if she failed now, what else could she do? Her blood boiled hotly at the thought of letting Harry Wainwright succeed in his miserable plot. Oh, for cousin La Rue! He would have thought a way out of this. If everything else failed she would tell the wholestory to Captain La Rue and beg him to exonerate John Cameron. But that, of course, she knew would be hard to do, there was so much red tape in the army, and there were so many unwritten laws that could not be set aside just for private individuals. Still, there must be a way if she had to go herself to someone and tell what she had overheard. She set her pretty lips firmly and rode on at a brisk pace down the dark road, switching on her head lights to seem the way here in the woods. And then suddenly, just in time she jerked on the brake and came to a jarring stop, for ahead of her a big car was sprawled across the road, and there, rising hurriedly from a kneeling posture before the engine, in the full blaze of her headlights, blinking and frowning with anxiety, stood John Cameron!
X
The end of her chase came so unexpectedly that her wits were completely scattered. Now that she was face to face with the tall soldier she had nothing to say for her presence there. What would he think of her? How could she explain her coming? She had undertaken the whole thing in such haste that she had not planned ahead. Now she knew that from the start she had understood that she must not explain how she came to be possessed of any information concerning him. She felt a kind of responsible shame for her old playmate Harry Wainright, and a certain loyalty toward her own social set that prevented her from that, the only possible explanation that could make her coming justifiable. So, now in the brief interval before he had recognized them she must stage the next act, and she found herself unable to speak, her throat dry, her lips for the instant paralyzed. It was the jubilant little mother that stepped into the crisis and did the most natural thing in the world:
“John! Oh John! It’s really you! We’vecaught you!” she cried, and the troubled young soldier peering into the dusk to discover if here was a vehicle he might presume to commandeer to help him out of his predicament lifted startled eyes to the two faces in the car and strode forward, abandoning with a clang the wrench with which he had been working on the car.
“Mother!” he said, a shade of deep anxiety in his voice. “What is the matter? How came you to be here?”
“Why, I came after you,” she said laughing like a girl. “We’re going to see that you get to camp in time. We’ve made pretty good time so far. Jump in quick and we’ll tell you the rest on the way. We mustn’t waste time.”
Cameron’s startled gaze turned on Ruth now, and a great wonder and delight sprang up in his eyes. It was like the day when he went away on the train, only more so, and it brought a rich flush into Ruth’s cheeks. As she felt the hot waves she was glad that she was sitting behind the light.
“What! You?” he breathed wonderingly. “But this is too much! And after the way I treated you!”
His mother looked wonderingly from one to the other:
“Get in, John, quick. We mustn’t lose a minute. Something might delay us later.” It was plain she was deeply impressed with the necessity for the soldier not to be found wanting.
“Yes, please get in quickly, and let us start. Then we can talk!” said Ruth, casting an anxious glance toward the other car.
His hand went out to the door to open it, the wonder still shining in his face, when a low murmur like a growl went up behind him.
Ruth looked up, and there in the full glare of the lights stood two burly civilians and a big soldier:
“Oh, I say!” drawled the soldier in no very pleasant tone, “you’re not going to desert us that way! Not after Pass came out of his way for us! I didn’t think you had a yellow streak!”
Cameron paused and a troubled look came into his face. He glanced at the empty back seat with a repression of his disappointment in the necessity.
“There’s another fellow here that has to get back at the same time I do,” he said looking at Ruth hesitatingly.
“Certainly. Ask him, of course.” Ruth’s voice was hearty and put the whole car at his disposal.
“There’s room for you, too, Chalmers,” he said with relief. “And Passmore will be glad to get rid of us I suspect. He’ll be able to get home soon. There isn’t much the matter with that engine. If you do what I told you to that carburetor you’ll find it will go all right. Come on, Chalmers. We ought to hurry!”
“No thanks! I stick to my friends!” said the soldier shortly.
“As you please!” said Cameron stepping on the running board.
“Not asyouplease!” said a gruff voice, “I’m running this party and we all go together? See?” A heavy hand came down upon Cameron’s shoulder with a mighty grip.
Cameron landed a smashing blow under the man’s chin which sent him reeling and sprang inside as Ruth threw in the clutch and sent her car leaping forward. The two men in front were taken by surprise and barely got out of the way in time, but instantly recovered their senses and sprang after the car, the one nearest her reaching for the wheel.Cameron, leaning forward, sent him rolling down the gully, and Ruth turned the car sharply to avoid the other car which was occupying as much of the road as possible, and left the third man scrambling to his knees behind her. It was taking a big chance to dash past that car in the narrow space over rough ground, but Ruth was not conscious of anything but the necessity of getting away. In an instant they were back in the road and flashing along through the dark.
“Mother, you better let me help you back here,” said her son leaning forward and almost lifting his mother into the back seat, then stepping over to take her place beside Ruth.
“Better turn out your back lights!” he said in a quiet, steady voice. “They might follow, you know. They’re in an ugly mood. They’ve been drinking.”
“Then the car isn’t really out of commission?”
“Not seriously.”
“We’re not on the right road, did you know? This road goes to The Pine Tree Inn and Singleton!”
Cameron gave a low exclamation:
“Then they’re headed for more liquor. I thought something was up.”
“Is there a cross road back to the Pike?”
“I’m not sure. Probably. I know there is about three miles farther on, almost to the Inn. This is an awful mess to have got you into! I’d rather have been in the guard house than have this happen to you!”
“Please don’t!” said Ruth earnestly. “It’s an adventure! I’m enjoying it. I’m not a doll to be kept in cotton wool!”
“I should say not!” said Cameron with deep admiration in his tone. “You haven’t shown yourself much of a doll to-night. Some doll, to run a car the way you did in the face of all that. I’ll tell you better what I think when we get out of this!”
“They are coming, I believe!” said Ruth glancing back. “Don’t you see a light? Look!”
Mrs. Cameron was looking, too, through the little back window. Now she spoke quietly:
“Wouldn’t it be better to get out and slip up in the woods till they have gone by?”
“No, mother!” said Cameron quickly, “just you sit quiet where you are and trust us.”
“Something awful might happen, John!”
“No, mother! Don’t you worry!” he said in his gentle, manly tone. Then to Ruth: “There’s a big barn ahead there on your left. Keep your eye out for a road around behind it. If we could disappear it’s too dark for them to know where we are. Would you care to turn out all the lights and let me run the car? I don’t want to boast but there isn’t much of anything I can’t do with a car when I have to.”
Instantly Ruth switched out every light and with a relieved “Please!” gave up the wheel to him. They made the change swiftly and silently, and Ruth took the post of lookout.
“Yes, I can see two lights. It might be someone else, mightn’t it?”
“Not likely, on this road. But we’re not taking any chances,” and with that the car bumped down across a gully and lurched up to a grassy approach to a big stone barn that loomed above them, then slid down another bank and passed close to a great haystack, whose clutching straw fingers reached out to brush their faces, and so swept softly around to the rear of the barn and stopped.Cameron shut off the engine instantly and they sat in utter silence listening to the oncoming car.
“It’s they, all right!” whispered Cameron softly. “That’s Passmore’s voice. He converses almost wholly in choice profanity.”
His mother’s hand stole out to touch his shoulder and he reached around and held it close.
“Don’t tremble, mother, we’re all safe!” he whispered in a tone so tender that Ruth felt a shiver of pleasure pass over her for the mother who had such a son. Also there was the instant thought that a man could not be wholly “rotten” when he could speak to his mother in that tone.
There was a breathless space when the car paused on the road not far away and their pursuers stood up and looked around, shouting to one another. There was no mistaking their identity now. Ruth shivered visibly. One of them got out of the car and came toward the barn. They could hear him stepping over the stony roadside. Cameron laid a quiet hand of reassuring protection on her arm that steadied her and made her feel wonderfully safe once more, and strange to say she found herself lifting up another queer little kind of aprayer. It had never been her habit to pray much except in form. Her heart had seldom needed anything that money could not supply.
The man had stumbled across the gully and up toward the barn. They could hear him swearing at the unevenness of the ground, and Ruth held her breath and prayed again. A moment more and he was fumbling about for the barn door and calling for a flash light. Then, like the distant sound of a mighty angel of deliverance came the rumble of a car in the distance. The men heard it and took it for their quarry on ahead. They climbed into their car again and were gone like a flash.
John Cameron did not wait for them to get far away. He set the car in motion as soon as they were out of sight, and its expensive mechanism obeyed his direction almost silently as he guided it around the barn, behind the haystack and back again into the road over which they had just come.
“Now!” he said as he put the car to its best speed and switched on its headlights again. “Now we can beat them to it, I guess, if they come back this way, which I don’t think they will.”
The car dashed over the ground and the threesat silent while they passed into the woods and over the place where they had first met Cameron. Ruth felt herself trembling again, and her teeth beginning to chatter from the strain. Cameron seemed to realize her feeling and turned toward her:
“You’ve been wonderful!” he said flashing a warm look at her, “and you, too, mother!” lifting his voice a little and turning his head toward the back seat. “I don’t believe any other two women in Bryne Haven could have gone through a scene like that and kept absolutely still. You were great!” There was that in his voice that lifted Ruth’s heart more than any praise she had ever received for anything. She wanted to make some acknowledgment, but she found to her surprise that tears were choking her throat so that she could not speak. It was the excitement, of course, she told herself, and struggled to get control of her emotion.
They emerged from the woods and in sight of the Pike at last, and Cameron drew a long breath of relief.
“There, I guess we can hold our own with anyone, now,” he said settling back in his seat, but relaxing none of his vigilance toward the car whichsped along the highway like a winged thing. “But it’s time I heard how you came to be here. I haven’t been able to explain it, during the intervals when I’ve had any chance at all to think about it.”
“Oh, I just called up your mother to know if it would help you any to be taken to your train,” said Ruth quickly, “and she mentioned that she was worried lest you would miss it; so I suggested that we try to catch you and take you on to Wilmington or Baltimore or wherever you have to go. I do hope this delay hasn’t spoiled it all. How long does it take to go from Baltimore to camp. I’ve taken the Baltimore trip myself in five hours. It’s only quarter past six yet, do you think we can make it?”
“But you can’t go all the way to Baltimore!” he exclaimed. “What would you and mother do at that time of night alone after I go to camp? You see, it isn’t as if I could stay and come back with you.”
“Oh, we’ll just go to a hotel in Baltimore, won’t we, Mrs. Cameron? We’ll be all right if we only get you safe to camp. Do you think we can do it?”
“Oh, yes, we can do it all right with this car. But I’m quite sure I ought not to let you do it just for me. What will your people think?”
“I’ve left word that I’ve gone to a friend in trouble,” twinkled Ruth. “I’ll call them up when I get to Baltimore, and make it all right with Auntie. She will trust me.”
Cameron turned and looked at her wonderingly, reverently.
“It’s wonderful that you should do this for me,” he said in a low tone, quite low, so that the watching wistful mother could not even guess what he was saying.
“It’s not in the least wonderful,” said Ruth brightly. “Remember the hedge and Chuck Woodcock!” She was beginning to get her self possession again.
“You are paying that old score back in compound interest,” said Cameron.
That was a wonderful ride rushing along beneath the stars, going back to childhood’s days and getting acquainted again where they left off. Ruth forgot all about the cause of her wild chase, and the two young men she had left disconsolate in her library at home; forgot her own world in this new beautiful one, wherein her spirit really communed with another spirit; forgot utterly what Wainwrighthad said about Cameron as more and more through their talk she came to see the fineness of his character.
They flashed on from one little village to another, leaving one clustering glimmer of lights in the distance only to pass to other clustering groups. It was in their favor that there were not many other travellers to dispute their way, and they were hindered very little. Cameron had made the trip many times and knew the roads well. They did not have to hesitate and enquire the way. They made good time. The clocks were striking ten when they reached the outskirts of Baltimore.
“Now,” said Ruth in a sweetly imperious tone, consulting her timepiece to be sure she had counted the clock strokes correctly, “do you know what you are going to do, Mr. Corporal? You are going to land your mother and me at the nearest hotel, and take the car with you back to camp. You said one of the fellows had his car down there, so I’m sure you’ll be able to find a place to put it over night. If you find a way to send the car back to us in the morning, well and good. If not your mother and I will go home by train and the chauffeur can comedown to-morrow and bring back the car; or, better still, you can drive yourself up the next time you get leave off.”
There was much argument about the matter within a brief space of time, but in the end (which came in five minutes) Ruth had her way, and the young soldier departed for his camp in the gray car with ample time to make the short trip, leaving his mother and Ruth at a Baltimore hotel; after having promised to call up in the morning and let them know what he could do about the car.
Ruth selected a large double room and went at once to the telephone to call up her aunt. She found to her relief that that good lady had not yet returned from her day with a friend in the city, so that no explanations would be necessary that night. She left word with the servant that she was in Baltimore with a friend and would probably be at home the next day sometime. Then she turned to find to her dismay that her companion was sitting in a low-armed chair with tears running down her cheeks.
“Oh, my dear!” she exclaimed rushing over to her, “you are all worn out!”
“Not a bit of it!” sobbed the mother with asmile like sunshine through her tears. “I was so happy I couldn’t keep from crying. Don’t you ever get that way? I’ve just been watching you and thinking what a dear beautiful child you are and how wonderful God has been to send you to help my boy. Oh, it was so dreadful to me to think of him going down to camp with those men! My dear, I smelt liquor on their breath when they came for him, and I was just crying and praying about it when you called me up. Of course, I knew my boy wouldn’t drink, but so many accidents can happen with automobiles when the driver is drunk! My dear, I never can thank you enough!”
They were both too excited to sleep soon, but long after the mother was asleep Ruth lay awake going over the whole day and wondering. There were so many things about the incident of the afternoon and evening, now that they were over, that were utterly out of accord with her whole life heretofore. She felt intuitively that her aunt would never understand if she were to explain the whole proceeding. There were so many laws of her little world of conventionalities that she had transgressed, and so many qualms of a belated conscience aboutwhether she ought to have done it at all. What would Cameron think of her, anyway? Her cheeks burned hot in the dark over that question. Strange she had not thought of it at all either beforehand or while she sat beside him during that wonderful ride! And now the thing that Wainwright had said shouted itself out to her ears: “Rotten! Rotten! Rotten!” like a dirge. Suppose he were? Itcouldn’tbe true. Itjust couldn’t, but suppose he were? Well, suppose he were! How was she hurt by doing a kind act? Having taken that stand against all her former ideas Ruth had instant peace and drifted into dreams of what she had been enjoying, the way suddenly lit by a sleepy remembrance of Wetherill’s declaration: “He won’t drink! You can’t make him! It’s been tried again and again!” There was evidence in his favor. Why hadn’t she remembered that before? And his mother! She had been so sure of him!
The telephone bell wakened her with a message from camp. His voice greeted her pleasantly with the word that it was all right, he had reached camp in plenty of time, found a good place for the car, and it would be at the hotel at nine o’clock.Ruth turned from the phone with a vague disappointment. He had not said a word of thanks or good-bye or anything, only that he must hurry. Not even a word to his mother. But then, of course, men did not think of those little things, perhaps, as women did, and maybe it was just as well for him to take it all as a matter of course. It made it less embarrassing for her.
But when they went down to the car, behold he was in it!
“I got leave off for the morning,” he explained smiling. “I told my captain all about how you got me back in time when I’d missed the train and he told me to see you as far as Wilmington and catch the noon train back from there. He’s a peach of a captain. If my lieutenant had been there I wouldn’t have got a chance to ask him. I was afraid of that last night. But for good luck the lieutenant has a two days’ leave this time. He’s a mess!”
Ruth looked at him musingly. Was Harry Wainwright the lieutenant?
They had a golden morning together, and talked of many things that welded a friendship already well begun.
“Weren’t you at all frightened last night?” asked Cameron once, looking at the delicate beauty of the face beside him and noting the strength and sweetness of it.
Mrs. Cameron was dozing in the back seat and they felt quite alone and free. Ruth looked up at him frankly:
“Why, yes, I think I was for a minute or two while we were behind that barn, but——Did you ever pray when you were in a trying situation?”
He looked down earnestly into her face, half startled at her words:
“Why, I don’t know that I ever did. I’m not quite sure if it was praying.”
“Well, I don’t know that I ever did before,” she went on thoughtfully, “but last night when those men got out of their car in front of the barn so near us again, I found myself praying.” She dropped her eyes half embarrassed: “Just as if I were a frightened little child I found myself saying: ‘God help us! God help us!’ And right away we heard that other car coming and the men went away. It somehow seemed—well, strange! I wondered if anybody else ever had an experience like that.”
“I’ve heard of them,” said Cameron gravely. “I’ve wondered sometimes myself. Do you believe in God?”
“Oh, yes!” said Ruth quite firmly. “Of course. What use would there be in anything if there wasn’t a God?”
“But do you believe we humans can ever really—well,findHim? On this earth, I mean.”
“Why, I don’t know that I ever thought about it,” she answered bewildered. “Find Him? In what way do you mean?”
“Why, get in touch with Him? Get to know Him, perhaps. Be on such terms with Him that one could call out in a time like last night, you know; or—well, say in a battle! I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately—naturally.”
“Oh!” gasped Ruth softly, “of course. I hadn’t thought about that much, either. We’ve been so thoughtless—and—and sort of happy you know, just like butterflies, we girls! I haven’t realized that men were going out to faceDeath!”
“It isn’t that I’m afraid to die,” said Cameron proudly lifting his chin as if dying were a small matter, “not just the dying part. I reckon I’vebeen through worse than that a dozen times. That wouldn’t last long. It’s—the other part. I have a feeling there’ll be a little something more expected of me than just to have tried to get the most fun out of life. I’ve been thinking if there is a God He’d expect us to find it out and make things straight between us somehow. I suppose I don’t make myself very plain. I don’t believe I know myself just what I mean.”
“I think I understand just a little,” said Ruth, “I have never thought about it before, but I’m going to now. It’s something we ought to think about, I guess. In a sense it’s something that each one of us has to think, whether we are going into battle or not, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is, only we never realize it when things are going along all right,” said Cameron. “It seems queer that everybody that’s ever lived on this earth has had this question to face sooner or later and most of them haven’t done much about it. The few people who profess to have found a way to meet it we call cranks, or else pick flaws in the way they live; although it does seem to me that if I really found God so I was sure He was there andcared about me, I’d manage to live a little decenter life than some do.”
They drifted into other topics and all too soon they reached Wilmington and had to say good-bye. But the thought stayed with Ruth more or less during the days that followed, and crept into her letters when she wrote to Corporal Cameron, as she did quite often in these days; and still no solution had come to the great question which was so like the one of old, “What shall I do to be saved?” It came and went during the days that followed, and now and again the fact that it had originated in a talk with Cameron clashed badly in her mind with that word “Rotten” that Wainwright had used about him. So that at last she resolved to talk to her cousin, Captain La Rue, the next time he came up.
“Cousin Captain,” she said, “do you know a boy at your camp from Bryne Haven named John Cameron?”
“Indeed I do!” said the captain.
“What kind of a man is he?”
“The best young man I know in every way,” answered the captain promptly. “If the world were made up of men like him it would be a prettygood place in which to live. Do you know him?”
“A little,” said Ruth evasively, with a satisfied smile on her lips. “His mother is in our Red Cross now. She thinks he’s about right, of course, but mothers usually do, I guess. I’ll have to tell her what you said. It will please her. He used to be in school with me years ago. I haven’t seen much of him since.”
“Well, all I have to say is, improve your acquaintance if you get the chance. He’s worth ten to one of your society youths that loll around here almost every time I come.”
“Now, Cousin Captain!” chided Ruth. But she went off smiling and she kept all his words in her heart.