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Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill

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<h3>CHAPTER XI</h3> <h4>UNCLE JABEZ IS EXCITED</h4> So rapidly had all this taken place that the girls had remained in the mill. But now Ruth, crying: "Aunt Alvirah will be frightened to death, Helen!" led the way down the long passage and through the shed into the kitchen porch. The water on this side of the building had swept up the road and actually into the yard; but the automobile stood in a puddle only and was not injured. Aunt Alviry was sitting in her rocker by the window. The old woman was very pale and wan. She had her Bible open on her knees and her lips trembled in a smile of welcome when the girls burst into the room. "Oh, my dears! my dears!" she cried. "I am so thankful to see you both safe!" She started to rise, and the old phrase came to her lips: "Oh, my back and oh, my bones!" Then she rose and hobbled across the room. Her bright little, birdlike eyes, that had never yet known spectacles, had seen something up the Cheslow road. "Who's this a-coming? For the land's sake, what recklessness! Is that Jabez and his mules, Ruthie? Bless us and save us! what's he going to try and do?" The two girls ran to the door. Down the hill thundered a farm wagon drawn by a pair of mules, said mules being on the dead run while their driver stood in the wagon and snapped his long, blacksnake whip over their ears. Such a descent of the hill was reckless enough in any case; but now, at the foot, rolled the deep water. It had washed away a little bridge that spanned what was usually a rill, but the banks of this stream being overflowed for yards on either side, the channel was at least ten feet deep. It was Jabez Potter driving so recklessly down the hill from Cheslow. "Oh, oh!" screamed the old lady. "Jabez will be killed! Oh, my back and oh, my bones! Oh, deary, deary me!" She had crossed the porch and was hobbling down the steps. Her rheumatic twinges evidently caused her excruciating pain, but the fear she felt for the miller's safety spurred her to get as far as the fence. And there Ruth and Helen kept her from splashing into the muddy water that covered the road. "You can do no good, Aunt Alvirah!" cried Ruth. "The mules are not running away with him, Mrs. Boggs," urged Helen. "They'll kill him! He's crazy! It's his moneythe poor, poor man!" It was evident that Aunt Alvirah read the miller's excitement aright. Ruth remembered the cash-box and wondered if it had been left in the mill while her uncle went to Cheslow? However that might be, her attentionindeed, the attention of everybody about the millwas held by the reckless actions of Mr. Potter. It was not fifteen minutes after the wave had hit the mill and torn away a part of the outer office wall and the loading platform, or wharf, when the racing mules came down to the turbulent stream that lay between the Cheslow road and the Red Mill. The frightened animals would have balked at the stream, but the miller, still standing in the wagon, coiled the whip around his head and then lashed out with it, laying it, like a tongue of living fire, across the mules' backs. They were young animals and they had been unused, until this day, to the touch of the blacksnake. They leaped forward with almost force enough to break out of their harness, but landing in the deep water with the wagon behind them. So far out did they leap that they went completely under and the wagon dipped until the body was full of water. But there stood the miller, upright and silent, plying the whip when they came to the surface, and urging them on. Ruth had noticed before this that Uncle Jabez was not cruel to his team, or to his other animals; but this was actual brutality. However, the mules won through the flood. The turgid stream was not wide and it was not a long fight. But there was the peril of mules, wagon and man being swept out into the main stream of the flood and carried over the dam. "He is awful! awful!" murmured Helen, in Ruth's ear, as they clung together and watched the miller and his outfit come through and the mules scramble out upon solid ground. The miller had brought his half-mad team to the mill and pulled the mules down right beside the Cameron's automobile. Already the young fellow who worked for him had flown out of the mill to Jabez's assistance. He seized the frightened mules by their bits. "How much has gone, boy?" cried Jabez, in a strained, hoarse voice. "Not much, boss. Only a part of the office an'" The miller was already in at the door. In a moment, it seemed, he was back again, having seen the damage done by the flood to his building. But that damage was comparatively slight. It should not have caused the old man to display such profound despair. He wrung his hands, tore off his hat and stamped upon it on the walk, and behaved in such a manner that it was little wonder Helen Cameron was vastly frightened. He seemed beside himself with rage and despair. Ruth, herself torn by conflicting emotions, could not bear to see the old man so convulsed with what seemed to be anguish of spirit, without offering her sympathy. During this week that she had been at the Red Mill it could not be said that she had gained Uncle Jabez's confidencethat she had drawn close to him at all. But it was not for a will on her part to do so. The girl now left Aunt Alvirah and Helen on the porch and walked straight down to the old man. She was beside him, with a hand upon his arm, before he was aware of her coming. He stared at her so angrilywith such an expression of rage and hopelessness upon his facethat she was held speechless for a moment. "What do you know about it, girl?" he demanded, hoarsely. "About what, Uncle?" she returned. "The boxthe cash-boxmy money!" he cried, in a low voice. "Do you know anything about it? Was it saved?" "Oh, Uncle! We only got here in the automobile just in time to escape the flood. The office was wrecked at that very moment. Was the box there?" "Gone! Gone!" he murmured, shaking his head; and turning on his heel, he strode into the mill. The boy had taken the mules around to the stable. Ruth hesitated, then followed the old man into the mill. There Jabez confronted Tom Cameron, sitting on a sack of meal and watching the turbid waters falling over the dam. "Ha! Young Cameron," muttered Uncle Jabez. "You didn't see the cash-box, of course?" "Where was it?" asked Tom, quietly. "In that officeon a shelf, with an old coat thrown over it. I believed it to be as safe there as in the house with nobody but an old woman to guard it." "Better put your money in the bank, sir," said Tom, coolly. "And have some sleek and oily scoundrel steal it, eh?" snarled Uncle Jabez. "Well, the water stole it, I reckon," Tom said. "I'm sorry for you if there was much money in the box. But I know nothing about it. Jasper Parloe might have saved the box had he known about it; he was over there by the office when the water tore away the wall." "Jasper Parloe!" ejaculated Uncle Jabez, starting. "Was he here?" "He wasn't here long," chuckled Tom. "He thought the mill was going and he lit out in a hurry." Uncle Jabez made another despairing gesture and walked away. Ruth followed him and her hands closed upon the toil-hardened fist clenched at his side. "I'm sorry, Uncle," she whispered. He suddenly stared down at her. "There! I believe you be, child. But your being sorry can't help it none. The money's gonehard it come and it's hard to part with in this way." "Was it a large sum, Uncle?" "All the ready cash I had in the world. Every cent I owned. That boy said, put it in a bank. I lost money when the Cheslow Bank failed forty year ago. I don't get caught twice in the same trapno, sir! I've lost more this time; but no dishonest blackleg will have the benefit of it, that's sure. The river's got it, and nobody will ever be a cent the better off for it. All! All gone!" He jerked his hand away from Ruth's sympathetic pressure and walked moodily away. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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