Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies Part 22

Once she whispered to him: "I can swim, Roberto."

"Good! But I will carry you," and he suddenly stooped, slung her across his shoulder as though she had been a feather-weight, and marched on through the water.

It was plain that the Gypsy boy knew this ford better than the drivers of the vans, for he found no spot that he could not wade through and carry Ruth, as well. It was nearly an hour before they reached the land.

The rain beat upon them and the wind soughed in the trees. It seemed to get darker and darker, yet Roberto never hesitated for direction, and setting Ruth down upon her own feet, helped her on till they came to a well-traveled road.

Not far ahead was a light. Ruth knew at once that it was a lamp s.h.i.+ning through the windows of some farmhouse kitchen.

"There they will take you in," Roberto said. "They are kind people. I am sorry I could not bring away your own clothes and your bag. But it could not be, Missy."

"Oh! you have been so good to me, Roberto!" she cried, seizing both of his hands. "However can I thank you--or repay you?"

"Don't be too hard on Gypsy--on my old grandmother. She is old and she is a miser. She thought she could make your friends pay her money. But now we will all leave here in the morning and you shall never be troubled by us again."

"I will do nothing to punish her, Roberto," promised Ruth. "But I hope I shall see you at the Red Mill some time."

"Perhaps--who knows?" returned the youth, with a smile that she could see in the dark, his teeth were so white. "Now run to the door and knock. When I see it opened and you go in, I will return."

Ruth Fielding did as she was bidden. She entered the gate, mounted the porch, and rapped upon the kitchen door. The moment she looked into the motherly face of the woman who answered her knock, the girl knew that her troubles were over.

CHAPTER XVII

OFF FOR SCHOOL AGAIN

There was much bustle about the old Red Mill. The first tang of frost was in the air, and September was lavishly painting the trees and bushes along the banks of the Lumano with crimson and yellow.

A week had elapsed since Ruth and Helen had been prisoners in the Gypsies' encampment, up in the hills. That week had been crowded with excitement and adventure for the chums and Tom Cameron. They would all three have much to talk about regarding the Gypsies and their ways, for weeks to come.

Uncle Ike Cameron had roused up the County Sheriff and all his minions, before Ruth appeared at Severn Corners, driven by the kindly farmer to whose door Roberto had brought her through the darkness and rain.

Constable Peck, having searched the Gypsy camp, believed that Ruth must have escaped from the Romany people at the same time as Helen.

Therefore, it was not until Ruth's complete story was told, that actual pursuit of the Gypsies by the county authorities was begun.

Then Queen Zelaya and her band were not only out of the county, but out of the state, as well. They had hurried across the border, and it was understood that the tribe had gone south--as they usually did in the winter--and would be seen no more in New York State--at least not until the next spring.

The three friends had much to tell wherever they went during this intervening week. They had had a fine time at "Uncle Ike's," but every adventure they had was tame in comparison to those they had experienced on the road overlooking Long Lake.

They wondered what had become of Roberto--if he had returned to his people and risked being accused of letting Ruth escape. Ruth discussed this point with her friends; but one thing she had never mentioned to either Helen, or her brother Tom.

She did not speak to them of the wonderful pearl necklace she had seen in the old Gypsy queen's possession. There was a mystery about that; she believed Zelaya must have stolen it. The man with the wicked face had intimated that it was part of some plunder the Gypsies had secured.

Now, Ruth and Helen--and Tom as well--were ready to start for school again. This was the last morning for some time to come, that Ruth would look out of her little bedroom window at the Red Mill.

She always left the beautiful place with regret. She had come to love old Aunt Alvirah so much, and have such a deep affection and pity for the miserly miller, that the joy of going back to Briarwood was well tempered with remorse.

The night before, Uncle Jabez had come to Ruth, when she was alone, and thrust a roll of coin in her hand. "Ye'll want some ter fritter away as us'al, Niece Ruth," he had said in his most snarling tone.

When she looked at it, her heart beat high. There were five ten-dollar gold pieces!

It was given in an ungrateful way, yet the girl of the Red Mill believed her uncle meant to be kind after all. The very thought of giving up possession of so much money made him cranky. Perhaps he was determined to give her these fifty dollars on the very day they had been wrecked on the Lumano. No wonder he had been so cross all this time!

It was Uncle Jabez's way. As Aunt Alvirah said, he could not help it. At least, he had never learned to make any effort to cure this unfortunate n.i.g.g.ardliness that made him seem so unkind.

"I do wish I had a lot of money," she told Aunt Alvirah, with a sigh. "I would never have to ask him to pay out a cent again. I could refuse to take this that he has given me and then I----"

"Tut, tut, my pretty! don't say that," said the little old woman, soothingly. "It does him good to put his hand in his pocket--it does, indeed. If it is a sad wrench for him ter git it out ag'in--all the better!" and she chuckled a little as she lowered herself into her rocker. "Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!"

"Ye don't understand yer uncle's nater like I do, Ruthie. You bein' his charge has been the salvation of him--yes, it has! Don't worry when he gives ye money; it's all thet keeps his old heart from freezin' right up solid."

Now the Cameron automobile was at the gate, and Helen and Tom were calling to Ruth to hurry. Ben had taken her trunk to the Cheslow station the day before. Ruth appeared with her new handbag (the Gypsies had the old one), flung her arms about Aunt Alvirah's neck as she sat on the porch, and then ran swiftly to the door of the mill.

"Uncle! I'm going!" she called into the brown dusk of the place.

He came slowly to the door. His gray, grim face was unlighted by even an attempt at a smile, as he shook hands with her.

"I know ye'll be a good gal," he said, sourly. "Ye allus be. But be savin' with--with all thet money I gave ye. It's enough to be the ruination of a young gal to hev so much."

He repented of his gift, she knew. Yet she remembered what Aunt Alvirah had said, and refrained from handing it back to him. She determined, however, if she could, to never touch the five gold pieces, and some time, when she was self-supporting, she would hand the very same coins back to him!

This was in her thought as she moved away. So, on this occasion, Ruth Fielding did not leave the Red Mill with a very happy feeling at her heart.

The automobile sped away along the shady road into Cheslow. At the station Mercy Curtis, the lame girl, was awaiting them, although it was still some time before the train was due that would bear them away to Lake Osago.

When it _did_ steam into view and come to a slow stop beside the platform, there was Heavy Stone and The Fox with their hands out of the windows, shouting to them. They had secured two seats facing each other, and Ruth and Mercy joined them, while Tom and Helen took the seat behind.

Such a chattering as there was! The fleshy girl and Mary c.o.x had not seen Ruth and Helen and Mercy since they had all returned from the Steeles' summer home at Sunrise Farm, and you may believe there was plenty to talk about.

"Who else is here?" demanded Ruth, standing up to search the length of the car for familiar faces.

"Look out, Miss!" cried Heavy, producing her first joke of the fall term. "Remember Lot's wife!"

"Why so?" asked Helen.

"Goodness me! how ignorant you are--and you took chemistry last year, too," declared Jennie Stone.

"I--don't--just--see," admitted Helen.

"You mean to say you don't know what two-fold chemical change Lot's wife underwent?"

"Give it up!"

"Why," giggled Heavy, "first she turned to rubber, and then she turned to salt!"