Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill; Or, Jasper Parloe's Secret Read online

  Produced by Jim Weiler, xooqi.com.

  Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill

  or

  Jasper Parloe's Secret

  by Alice B. Emerson, 1913

  CHAPTER I

  THE RED FLAME IN THE NIGHT

  The sound of the drumming wheels! It had roared in the ears of RuthFielding for hours as she sat on the comfortably upholstered seat inthe last car of the afternoon Limited, the train whirling her from theWest to the East, through the fertile valleys of Upper New York State.

  This had been a very long journey for the girl, but Ruth knew that itwould soon come to an end. Cheslow was not many miles ahead now; shehad searched it out upon the railroad timetable, and upon the mapprinted on the back of the sheet; and as the stations flew by, she hadspelled their names out with her quick eyes, until dusk had fallen andshe could no longer see more than the signal lamps and switch targetsas the train whirled her on.

  But she still stared through the window. This last car of the trainwas fairly well filled, but she had been fortunate in having a seatall to herself; she was glad this was so, for a person in the seatwith her might have discovered how hard it was for her to keep backthe tears.

  For Ruth Fielding was by no means one of the "crying kind," and shehad forbidden herself the luxury of tears on this occasion.

  "We had all that out weeks ago, you know we did!" she whispered,apostrophizing that inner self that really wanted to break the bravecompact. "When we knew we had to leave dear old Darrowtown, and MissTrue Pettis, and Patsy Hope, and--and 'all other perspiring friends,'to quote Amoskeag Lanfell's letter that she wrote home fromConference.

  "No, Ruth Fielding! Uncle Jabez Potter may be the very nicest kind ofan old dear. And to live in a mill--and one painted red, too! Thatought to make up for a good many disappointments--"

  Her soliloquy was interrupted by a light tap upon her shoulder. Ruthglanced around and up quickly. She saw standing beside her the tallold gentleman who had been sitting two seats behind on the other sideof the aisle ever since the train left Buffalo.

  He was a spare old gentleman, with a gaunt, eagle-beaked face, cleanlyshaven but for a sweeping iron-gray mustache, his iron-gray hair wavedover the collar of his black coat--a regular mane of hair whichflowed out from under the brim of his well-brushed, soft-crowned hat.His face would have been very stern in its expression had it not beenfor the little twinkle in his bright, dark eyes.

  "Why don't you do it?" he asked Ruth, softly.

  "Why don't I do what, sir?" she responded, not without a little gulp,for that lump would rise in her throat.

  "Why don't you cry?" questioned the strange old gentleman, stillspeaking softly and with that little twinkle in his eye.

  "Because I am determined not to cry, sir," and now Ruth could call upa little smile, though perhaps the corners of her mouth trembled abit.

  The gentleman sat down beside her, although she had not invited him todo so. She was not at all afraid of him and, after all, perhaps shewas glad to have him do it.

  "Tell me all about it," he suggested, with such an air of confidenceand interest that Ruth warmed more and more toward him.

  But it was a little hard to begin. When he told her, however, that hewas going to Cheslow, too--indeed, that that was his home--it waseasier by far.

  "I am Doctor Davison, my dear," he said. "If you are going to live inCheslow you will hear all about Doctor Davison, and you would betterknow him at first-hand, to avoid mistakes," and his eyes twinkled morethan ever, though his stern mouth never relaxed.

  "I expect that my new home is some little way outside of Cheslow,"Ruth said, timidly. "They call it the Red Mill."

  The humorous light faded out of the dark, bright eyes of thegentleman. Yet even then his countenance did not impress her as beingunkindly.

  "Jabez Potter's mill," he said, thoughtfully.

  "Yes, sir. That is my uncle's name."

  "Your uncle?"

  "My great uncle, to be exact," said Ruth. "He was mother's uncle."

  "Then you," he said, speaking even more gently than before, "arelittle Mary Potter's daughter?"

  "Mother was Mary Potter before she married papa," said Ruth, moreeasily now. "She died four years ago."

  He nodded, looking away from her out of the window at thefast-darkening landscape which hurried by them.

  "And poor papa died last winter. I had no claim upon the kind friendswho helped me when he died," pursued Ruth, bravely. "They wrote toUncle Jabez and he--he said I could come and live with him and AuntAlvirah Boggs."

  In a flash the twinkle came back into his eyes, and he nodded again.

  "Ah, yes! Aunt Alviry," he said, giving the name its old-fashioned,homely pronunciation. "I had forgotten Aunt Alviry," and he seemedquite pleased to remember her.

  "She keeps house for Uncle Jabez, I understand," Ruth continued. "Butshe isn't my aunt."

  "She is everybody's Aunt Alviry, I think," said Doctor Davison,encouragingly.

  For some reason this made Ruth feel better. He spoke as though shewould love Aunt Alviry, and Ruth had left so many kind friends behindher in Darrowtown that she was glad to be assured that somebody in thenew home where she was going would be kind, too.

  Miss True Pettis had not shown her Uncle Jabez's letter and she hadfeared that perhaps her mother's uncle (whom she had never seen norknown much about) might not have written as kindly for his niece tocome to the Red Mill as Miss True could have wished. But Miss True waspoor; most of the Darrowtown friends had been poor people. Ruth hadfelt that she could not remain a burden on them.

  Somehow she did not have to explain all this to Doctor Davison. Heseemed to understand it when he nodded and his eyes twinkled soglowingly.

  "Cheslow is a pleasant town. You will like it," he said, cheerfully."The Red Mill is five miles out on the Lake Osago Road. It is a prettycountry. It will be dark when you ride over it to-night; but you willlike it when you see it by daylight."

  He took it for granted that Uncle Jabez would come to the station tomeet her with a carriage, and that comforted Ruth not a little.

  "You will pass my house on that road," continued Doctor Davison. "Butwhen you come to town you must not pass it."

  "Sir?" she asked him, surprised.

  "Not without stopping to see me," he explained, his eyes twinklingmore than ever. And then he left her and went back to his seat.

  But Ruth found, when he had gone, that the choke came back into herthroat again and the sting of unshed tears to her eyes. But she wouldnot let those same tears fall!

  She stared out of the plate-glass window and saw that it was now quitedark. The whistle of the fast-flying locomotive shrieked itslong-drawn warning, and a group of signal lights flashed past. Thenshe heard the loud ringing of a gong at a grade crossing. They must benearing Cheslow now.

  And then she saw that they were on a curve quite a sharp curve, forshe saw the lights of the locomotive and the mail car far ahead uponthe gleaming rails. They began to slow down, too, and the wheelswailed under the pressure of the brakes.

  She could see the signal lights along the tracks ahead and then--witha start, for she knew what it meant--a sharp red flame appeared outof the darkness beyond the rushing engine pilot.

  Danger! That is what that red light meant. The brakes clamped downupon the wheels again so suddenly that the easily-riding coach jarredthrough all its parts. The red eye was winked out instantly; but thelong and heavy train came to an abrupt stop.

  CHAPTER II

  RENO

  But the Limited had stopped so that Ruth could see along the length ofthe train. Lantern
s winked and blinked in the dark as the trainmencarried them forward. Something had happened up front of moreimportance than an ordinary halt for permission to run in on the nextblock. Besides, the afternoon Limited was a train of the first-classand was supposed to have the right of way over all other trains. Nosignal should have stopped it here.

  "How far are we from Cheslow, please?" she asked of the rear brakeman(whom she knew was called the flagman) as he came down the car withhis lantern.

  "Not above a mile, Miss," he replied.

  His smile, and his way of speaking, encouraged her to ask:

  "Can you tell me why we have stopped?"

  "Something on the track, Miss. I have set out my signal lamp and amgoing forward to inquire."

  Three or four of the male passengers followed him out of the car. Ruthsaw that