Ruth Fielding Down in Dixie Part 9

"A police launch followed the New Union S.S. _Pocahontas_ yesterday afternoon as far as the Narrows, and plain-clothes men James Morrisy, B. Phelps, Schwartz and Rockheimer, boarded her to search for a boy from up-state who has created a stir in the vicinity of Lumberton.

"It is reported that Henry Smith, fifteen years old, tall for his age, curly, chestnut hair, small features, especially girlish face, is accused of helping a pair of tramps rob the Lumberton railroad station. The tramps escaped on a hand-car with their booty. The local police went after Henry, who lives with his grandmother, Mrs.

Sadoc Smith, his only relative, an eminently respectable woman.

Henry locked himself in his room, and while his grandmother was urging him to come out and give himself up to the police, he slid out of the window and over the shed roof, dropping to the ground-the old path to the circus grounds and the bright and early Independence Day celebration.

"Henry Smith left home with some money and a new pair of boots. The boots and his other male attire he seems to have exchanged for female garb at a hotel in Albany. Henry masquerades as a girl very effectively, it is said.

"The Albany police were just too late in reaching the hotel, but later had reason to know that Henry had come on to New York by train. Detective Morrisy and his squad missed the fugitive at the Grand Central Terminal. Through the good offices of a taxicab driver, Henry was traced to the New Union pier, where he was supposed to have boarded the _Pocahontas_.

"The detectives, however, did not find Henry Smith thereon, neither in female garb nor in his proper habiliments. The police at Old Point Comfort and Norfolk have been notified to watch for the boy.

His grandmother, Mrs. Sadoc Smith, declares she will disinherit her grandson."

CHAPTER VI-ALL IN THE RAIN

Ruth Fielding was so much disturbed over the story of Curly Smith's escapade that she had to run and show the paper to Helen before she did anything else. And then the chums had to talk it all over, and exclaim over the boy's boldness, and the odd fact that _they_ should have seen him in his girl's apparel, and not have known him.

"After seeing him dressed up in Ann's old dress that time, too," sighed Helen. "The foolish boy!"

"But only think of his dropping off that shed roof. Do you know, Helen, it is twenty feet from the ground?"

"That reporter writes as though he thought it were a joke," Helen said.

"Mean thing!"

"He never saw that shed," said Ruth.

"It is fortunate poor Curly didn't break his neck."

"And his grandmother says she will disinherit him. That's really cruel!

I dare not tell her what I think when I write," Ruth said. "But I will tell her how Curly is being hounded by the police, and that he jumped overboard."

"Sure he did! He's an awfully brave boy," Helen declared.

"I'm not sure that he's to be praised for that kind of bravery. It was a perilous chance he took. I wonder where he will go-what he will do?

Goodness! what a boy!"

"He's all right," urged Helen, with admiration. "I don't believe the police will ever catch him."

"But what will become of him?"

"If we come across him again, we'll help him," said Helen, with confidence.

"That's not likely. I can't even tell Mrs. Smith where he has gone. We don't know."

"Let's go out and make sure that he wasn't taken by the police here, or at Norfolk."

"How will you find out?"

"At the dock. Somebody will know."

"You go. I'll write to Mrs. Smith. Don't get lost," said Ruth, drawing paper and envelopes toward her and preparing to write the missive.

It was growing dark before Ruth finished the letter-and that should not have been, for it was not yet noon! She looked up and then ran to the window. A storm cloud was sweeping down the bay and off across Hampton Roads. Over in Norfolk it was raining-a sharp shower. But it did not look as though it would hit the Point.

While Ruth was looking out Helen came running into the writing room, greatly excited. "Oh, come on, Ruthie!" she cried. "I've got a man who will take us for a drive all around the Point and around the fortress."

"In what?" asked Ruth, doubtfully.

"Well, I'd call it a barouche. It's an old thing; but he's such a nice, old darkey, and--"

"How much have you already paid him, my dear?" asked Ruth, interrupting.

"Well-I--Oh! don't be so inquisitive!"

"And I thought you went to inquire whether they had arrested that boy?"

"Oh! didn't I tell you?" said Helen. "They didn't get him. Neither here nor at Norfolk. I asked the man on the dock. Then this nice, old colored man in _such_ a funny livery, asked me to ride with him. He's been driving white folks around here, he says, ever since the war."

"What war? The War with Spain?" asked Ruth, tartly. "I begin to believe that there must be some sign on you, my dear, which tells these fellows that you have money and can be easily parted from it."

"Now, Ruthie--"

"That is true. Well! we'll get our hats--"

"Don't need anything of the kind. Or wraps, either. It's lovely out."

"But that black cloud?"

"What do you mean, Ruthie? My hack driver?" giggled Helen.

"Nonsense, you naughty child! That thunder storm."

"The driver says it won't come over here. Let's go."

"All right," Ruth finally said. "I know you have already paid him and we must get some return for your money."

"What a terribly saving creature you are," scoffed Helen. "I begin to believe that you have caught Uncle Jabez's disease, living with him there in the Red Mill. There! Oh, Ruth! I didn't mean that. I wouldn't hurt your feelings for anything."

But she had effectually closed Ruth's lips upon the subject of the waste of money. Her chum's countenance was rather serious as they went out upon the great veranda, which had a sweep wider than the face of the Capitol at Was.h.i.+ngton. Below them was a decrepit old carriage, drawn by a horse, the harness of which was repaired in more than one place with rope. The smart equipages made this ramshackle old vehicle look older than Noah's Ark at Briarwood Hall.

Helen was enormously amused by the looks of the old rattletrap and the funny appearance of the driver. The latter was an aged negro with a gray poll and gaps in his teeth when he grinned. He wore a tall hat such as the White House coachman is pictured as wearing in Lincoln's day. The long-tailed coat he wore had once been blue, but was now faded to a distinct maroon shade, saving a patch on the small of his back which had retained much of its original color by being sheltered against the seat-back.

The vest and trousers this nondescript wore were coa.r.s.e white duck, but starched and ironed, and as white as the snow. The least said about his shoes the better, and a glimpse Ruth had of one brown shank, as the old man got creakingly down to politely open the barouche door for them, a.s.sured her that he wore no hose at all.

"Do get in," giggled Helen. "Did you ever see such a funny old thing?"