<h3>CHAPTER XIV</h3>
<h4>JUST A MATTER OF A DRESS</h4>
<p>"Well, I really believe, Tommy Cameron!" cried his sister Helen, when he
overtook the girls and Reno, swinging the basket recklessly, "that you are
developing a love for low company. I don't see how you can bear to talk with
that Jasper Parloe."
</p>
<p>"I don't see how I can, either," muttered Tom, and he was rather silent—for
him—until they were well off the road and the incident at the bridge was
some minutes behind them.
</p>
<p>But the day was such a glorious one, and the fields and woods were so beautiful,
that no healthy boy could long be gloomy. Besides, Tom Cameron had assured
his sister that he thought Ruth Fielding "just immense," and he was determined
to give the girl of the Red Mill as pleasant a time as possible.
</p>
<p>He worked like a Trojan to gather buttercups, and after they had eaten the
luncheon old Babette had put up for them (and it was the very nicest and
daintiest luncheon that Ruth Fielding had ever tasted) he told the girls
to remain seated on the flat stone he had found for them and weave the foundation
for the pillow while he picked bushels upon bushels of buttercups.
</p>
<p>"You'll need a two-horse load, anyway to have enough for a pillow of the
size Nell has planned," he said, grinning. "And perhaps she'll finish it
if you help her, Ruth. She's always trying to do some big thing and 'falling
down' on it."
</p>
<p>"That's not so, Master Sauce-box!" cried his sister.
</p>
<p>Tom went off laughing, and the two girls set to work on the great mass of
buttercups they had already picked. They grew so large, and were so dewey
and golden, that a more brilliant bed of color one could scarce imagine than
the pillow, as it began to grow under the dexterous hands of Helen and Ruth.
And, being alone together now, they began to grow confidential.
</p>
<p>"And how does the Ogre treat you?" asked Helen. "I thought, when I came this
morning, that you had been feeling badly."
</p>
<p>"I am not very happy," admitted Ruth.
</p>
<p>"It's that horrid Ogre!" cried Helen.
</p>
<p>"It isn't right to call Uncle Jabez names," said Ruth, quietly. "He is greatly
to be pitied, I do believe. And just now, particularly so."
</p>
<p>"You mean because of the loss of that cash-box?"
</p>
<p>"Yes."
</p>
<p>"Do you suppose there was much in it?"
</p>
<p>"He told me that it contained every cent he had saved in all these years."
</p>
<p>"My!" cried Helen. "Then he must have lost a fortune! He has been a miser
for forty years, so they say."
</p>
<p>"I do not know about that," Ruth pursued. "He is harsh and—and he seems
to be very selfish. He—he says I can go to school, though."
</p>
<p>"Well, I should hope so!" cried Helen.
</p>
<p>"But I don't know that I <i>can</i> go," Ruth continued, shaking her head.
</p>
<p>"For pity's sake I why not?" asked her friend.
</p>
<p>Then, out came the story of the lost trunk. Nor could Ruth keep back the
tears as she told her friend about Uncle Jabez's cruelty.
</p>
<p>"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Helen, almost weeping herself. "The mean, mean thing!
No, I won't call him Ogre again; he isn't as good as an Ogre. I—I don't
know what to call him!"
</p>
<p>"Calling him names won't bring back my trunk, Helen," sobbed Ruth.
</p>
<p>"That's so. I—I'd make him pay for it! I'd make him get me dresses for those
that were lost."
</p>
<p>"Uncle is giving me a home; I suppose he will give me to wear all that he
thinks I need. But I shall have to wear <i>this </i> dress to school, and
it will soon not be fit to wear anywhere else."
</p>
<p>"It's just too mean for anything, Ruth! I just wish—"
</p>
<p>What Miss Cameron wished she did not proceed to explain. She stopped and
bit her lip, looking at her friend all the time and nodding. Ruth was busily
wiping her eyes and did not notice the very wise expression on Helen's face.
</p>
<p>"Look out! here comes Tom," whispered Helen, suddenly, and Ruth made a last
dab at her eyes and put away her handkerchief in a hurry.
</p>
<p>"Say! ain't you ever going to get that thing done?" demanded Tom. "Seems
to me you haven't done anything at all since I was here last."
</p>
<p>The girls became very busy then and worked swiftly until the pillow was
completed. By that time it was late afternoon and they started homeward.
Ruth separated from Helen and Tom at the main road and walked alone toward
the Red Mill. She came to the bridge, which was at the corner of her uncle's
farm, and climbed the stile, intending to follow the path up through the
orchard to the rear of the house—the same path by which she and her friends
had started on their little jaunt in the morning.
</p>
<p>The brook which ran into the river, and bounded this lower end of Mr. Potter's
place, was screened by clumps of willows. Just beyond the first group of
saplings Ruth heard a rough voice say:
</p>
<p>"And I tell you to git out! Go on the other side of the crick, Jasper Parloe,
if ye wanter fish. That ain't my land, but this is."
</p>
<p>"Ain't ye mighty brash, Jabe?" demanded the snarling voice of Parloe, and
Ruth knew the first speaker to be her uncle. "Who are yeou ter drive me away?"
</p>
<p>"The last time ye was at the mill I lost something—I lost more than I kin
afford to lose again," continued Uncle Jabez. "I don't say ye took it. They
tell me the flood took it. But I'm going to know the right of it some time,
and if you know more about it than you ought—"
</p>
<p>"What air ye talkin' about, Jabe Potter?" shrilled Parloe. "I've lost money
by you; ye ain't never paid me for the last month I worked for ye."
</p>
<p>"Ye paid yerself—ye paid yerself," said Jabe, tartly. "And if ye stole once
ye would again—"
</p>
<p>"Now stop right there, Jabe Potter!" cried Parloe, and Ruth knew that he
had stepped closer to Mr. Potter, and was speaking in a trembling rage. "Don't
ye intermate an' insinerate; for if ye do, I kin fling out some insinerations
likewise. Yeou jest open yer mouth about <i>me</i> stealin' an' I'll put
a flea in old man Cameron's ear. Ha! Ye know what I mean. Better hev a care,
Jabe Potter—better hev a care!"
</p>
<p>There was silence. Her uncle made no reply, and Ruth, fearing she would be
seen, and not wishing to be thought an eavesdropper (although the conversation
had so surprised and terrified her that she had not thought what she did,
before) the girl ran lightly up the hill, leaving the two old men to their
wrangle. When Uncle Jabez came in to supper that evening his scowl was heavier
than usual, if that were possible, and he did not speak to either Ruth or
Aunt Alvirah all the evening.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.