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

quite a number had disembarked from the cars ahead, that agoodly company was moving forward, and that there were ladies amongthe curious crowd. If it was perfectly safe for them to satisfy theircuriosity, why not she? She arose and hurried out of the car,following the swinging lamp of the brakeman as he strode on.

  Ruth ran a little, seeing well enough to pick her way over the ends ofthe ties, and arrived to find at least half a hundred people groupedon the track ahead of the locomotive pilot. The great, unblinking,white eye of the huge machine revealed the group clearly--and theobject around which the curious passengers, as well as the train crew,had gathered.

  It was a dog--a great, handsome, fawn-colored mastiff, sleek of coatand well fed, but muddied now along his flanks, evidently having wadedthrough the mire of the wet meadow beside the tracks. He had comeunder, or through, a barbed wire fence, too, for there was a longscratch upon his shoulder and another raw cut upon his muzzle.

  To his broad collar was fastened a red lamp. Nobody had taken it off,for both the train men and the passengers were excitedly discussingwhat his presence here might mean; and some of them seemed afraid ofthe great fellow.

  But Ruth had been used to dogs, and this noble looking fellow had noterrors for her. He seemed so woebegone, his great brown eyes pleadedso earnestly, that she could only pity and fondle him.

  "Look out, Miss; maybe he bites," warned the anxious conductor. "Iwager this is some boy's trick to stop the train. And yet--"

  Ruth bent down, still patting the dog's head, and turned the greatsilver plate on his collar so that she could read, in the light of thelanterns, that which was engraved upon it. She read the words aloud:

  "'This is Reno, Tom Cameron's Dog.'"

  "Cameron?" repeated some man behind her. "That Tom Cameron lives justoutside of Cheslow. His father is the rich dry-goods merchant, MacyCameron. What's his dog doing here?"

  "And with a red light tied to his collar?" propounded somebody else.

  "It's some boy's trick, I tell you," stormed the conductor. "I'll haveto report this at headquarters."

  Just then Ruth made a discovery. Wound about the collar was a bit oftwisted cloth--a strip of linen--part of a white handkerchief. Hernimble fingers unwound it quickly and she spread out the soiled rag.

  "Oh, see here!" she cried, in amazement as well as fear. "See! Whatcan it mean? See what's drawn on this cloth--"

  It was a single word--a word smeared across the rag in shaking,uneven letters:

  "HELP!"

  "By George!" exclaimed one of the brakemen. "The little girl's right.That spells 'Help!' plain enough."

  "It--it is written in something red, sir," cried Ruth, her voicetrembling. "See! It is blood!"

  "I tell you we've wasted a lot of time here," declared the conductor."I am sorry if anybody is hurt, but we cannot stop for him. Get backto the cars, please, gentlemen. Do you belong aboard?" he added, toRuth. "Get aboard, if you do."

  "Oh, sir! You will not leave the poor dog here?" Ruth asked.

  "Not with that red lamp on his collar--no!" exclaimed the conductor."He will be fooling some other engineer--"

  He reached to disentangle the wire from the dog's collar; but Renouttered a low growl.

  "Plague take the dog!" ejaculated the conductor, stepping backhastily. "Whoever it is that's hurt, or wherever he is, we cannot sendhim help from here. We'll report the circumstance at the CheslowStation. Put the dog in the baggage car. He can find the place wherehis master is hurt, from Cheslow as well as from here, it's likely."

  "You try to make him follow you, Miss," added the conductor to Ruth."He doesn't like me, it's plain."

  "Come here, Reno!" Ruth commanded. "Come here, old fellow."

  The big dog hesitated, stepped a yard or two after her, stopped,looked around and across the track toward the swamp meadow, andwhined.

  Ruth went back to him and put both arms about the noble fellow's neck."Come, Reno," she said "Come with me. We will go to find your masterby and by."

  She started for the cars again, with one hand on the dog's neck. Hetrotted meekly beside her with head hanging. At the open baggage-cardoor one of the brakemen lifted her in.

  "Come, Reno! Come up, sir!" she said, and the great mastiff, crouchingfor an instant, sprang into the car.

  Even before they were fairly aboard, the train started. They were lateenough, indeed! But the engineer dared not speed up much for that lastmile of the lap to Cheslow. There might be something ahead on thetrack.

  "You get out at Cheslow; don't you Miss?" asked the conductor.

  "Yes, sir," returned Ruth, sitting down with an air of possession uponher old-fashioned cowhide trunk that had already been put out by thedoor ready for discharging at the next station.

  "And you were sitting in the last car. Have you a bag there?"

  "Yes, sir, a small bag. That is all."

  "I'll send it forward to you," he said, not unkindly, and bustledaway.

  And so Ruth Fielding was sitting on her own trunk, with her bag in herlap, and the great mastiff lying on the floor of the baggage carbeside her, when the train slowed down and stopped beside the Cheslowplatform. She had not expected to arrive just in this way at herjourney's end.

  CHAPTER III

  WHAT HAS HAPPENED?

  The baggage-car door was wheeled wide open again and the lamps on theplatform shone in. There was the forward brakeman to "jump" her downfrom the high doorway, and Reno, with the little red light still hungto his collar, bounded after her.

  The conductor bustled away to tell the station master about the dogwith the red light, and of the word scrawled on the cloth which Ruthhad found wound around his collar. Indeed, Ruth herself was veryanxious and very much excited regarding this mystery; but she wasanxious, too, about herself. Was Uncle Jabez here to meet her? Or hadhe sent somebody to take her to the Red Mill? He had been informed byMiss True Pettis the week before on which train to expect his niece.

  Carrying her bag and followed dejectedly by the huge mastiff, Ruthstarted down the long platform. The conductor ran out of the station,signalled the train crew with his hand, and lanterns waved the lengthof the train. Panting, with its huge springs squeaking, the locomotivestarted the string of cars. Faster and faster the train moved, andbefore Ruth reached the pent-house roof of the little brick station,the tail-lights of the last car had passed her.

  A short, bullet-headed old man, with close-cropped, whitish-yellowhair, atop of which was a boy's baseball cap, his face smoothly shavenand deeply lined, and the stain of tobacco at either corner of hismouth, was standing on the platform. He was not a nice looking old manat all, he was dressed in shabby and patched garments, and his littleeyes seemed so sly that they were even trying to hide from each otheron either side of a hawksbill nose.

  He began to eye Ruth curiously as the girl approached, and she, seeingthat he was the only person who gave her any attention, jumped to theconclusion that this was Uncle Jabez. The thought shocked her. Sheinstinctively feared and disliked this queer looking old man. The lumpin her throat that would not be swallowed almost choked her again, andshe winked her eyes fast to keep from crying.

  She would, in her fear and disappointment, have passed the old man bywithout speaking had he not stepped in front of her.

  "Where d'ye wanter go, Miss?" he whined, looking at her still moresharply out of his narrow eyes. "Yeou be a stranger here, eh?"

  "Yes, sir," admitted Ruth.

  "Where are you goin'?" asked the man again, and Ruth had enough Yankeeblood in her to answer the query by asking:

  "Are you Mr. Jabez Potter?"

  "Me Jabez Potter? Why, ef I was Jabe Potter I'd be owing myself money,that's what I'd be doin'. You warn't never lookin' for Jabe Potter?"

  Much relieved, Ruth admitted the fact frankly. "He is my uncle, sir,"she said. "I am going to live at the Red Mill."

  The strange old man puckered up his lips into a whistle, and shook hishead, eyeing her all the time so slily that Ruth was more and morethankful that he h
ad not proven to be Uncle Jabez.

  "Do you know Mr. Potter?" she asked, undecided what to do.

  "Do I know Jabe Potter?" repeated the man. "Well, I don't know muchgood of him, I assure ye! I worked for him onct, I did. And I tell yehe owes me money yet. You ax him if he don't owe Jasper Parloe money--you jest ax him!"

  He began to get excited and did not seem at all inclined to step outof Ruth's path. But just then somebody spoke to her and she turned tosee the station master and two or three other men with him.

  "This is the girl Mr. Mason spoke to me about, isn't it?"