Ruth Fielding In the Saddle; Or, College Girls in the Land of Gold Read online

  CHAPTER II--EAVESDROPPING

  Helen tiptoed to the window and peered out suddenly. She expected tocatch the eavesdropper, but----

  "Why, there's nobody here, Ruth," she complained.

  "No-o?"

  "Not a soul. The ledge is bare away to the end. You--you must have beenmistaken, dear."

  Ruth looked out again and Jennie Stone crowded in between them, likewiseeager to see.

  "I know there was a girl there," whispered Ruth. "She lay right underthis window."

  "But what for? Trying to scare us?" asked Helen.

  "Trying to break her own neck, I should think," sniffed Jennie. "Who'drisk climbing along this ledge?"

  "_I_ have," confessed Helen. "It's not such a stunt. Other girls have."

  "But _why?_" demanded the plump freshman. "What was she here for?"

  "Listening, I tell you," Helen said.

  "To what? We weren't discussing buried treasure--or even any personalscandal," laughed Jennie. "What do you think, Ruth?"

  "That is strange," murmured the girl of the Red Mill reflectively.

  "The strangest thing is where she could have gone so quickly," saidHelen.

  "Pshaw! around the corner--the nearest corner, of course," observedJennie with conviction.

  "Oh! I didn't think of that," cried Ruth, and went to the other window,for the study shared during their freshman year by her and Helen Cameronwas a corner room with windows looking both west and south.

  When the trio of puzzled girls looked out of the other open window,however, the wide ledge of sandstone which ran all around Dare Hall justbeneath the second story windows was deserted.

  "Who lives along that way?" asked Jennie, meaning the occupants of theseveral rooms the windows of which overlooked the ledge on the west sideof the building.

  "Why--May MacGreggor for one," said Helen. "But it wouldn't be May. She'snot snoopy."

  "I should say not! Nor is Rebecca Frayne," Ruth said. "She has the fifthroom away. And girls! I believe Rebecca would be delighted to go with usto Arizona."

  "Oh--well----Could she go?" asked Helen pointedly.

  "Perhaps. Maybe it can be arranged," Ruth said reflectively.

  She seemed to wish to lead the attention of the other two from themystery of the girl she had observed on the ledge. But Helen, who knewher so well, pinched Ruth's arm and whispered:

  "I believe you know who it was, Ruthie Fielding. You can't fool me."

  "Sh!" admonished her friend, and because Ruth's influence was verystrong with the black-eyed girl, the latter said no more about themystery just then.

  Ruth Fielding's influence over Helen had begun some years before--indeed,almost as soon as Ruth herself, a heart-sore little orphan, had arrivedat the Red Mill to live with her Uncle Jabez and his little oldhousekeeper, Aunt Alvirah, "who was nobody's relative, but everybody'saunt."

  Helen and her twin brother, Tom Cameron, were the first friends Ruthmade, and in the first volume of this series of stories, entitled, "RuthFielding of the Red Mill," is related the birth and growth of thisfriendship. Ruth and Helen go to Briarwood Hall for succeeding termsuntil they are ready for college; and their life there and theiradventures during their vacations at Snow Camp, at Lighthouse Point, atSilver Ranch, at Cliff Island, at Sunrise Farm, with the Gypsies, inMoving Pictures and Down in Dixie are related in successive volumes.

  Following this first vacation trip Ruth and Helen, with their old chumJennie Stone, entered Ardmore College, and in "Ruth Fielding at College;Or, The Missing Examination Papers," the happenings of the chums'freshman year at this institution for higher education are narrated.

  The present story, the twelfth of the series, opens during the closingdays of the college year. Ruth's plans for the summer--or for the earlyweeks of it at least--are practically made.

  The trip West, into the Hualapai Range of Arizona for the business ofmaking a moving picture of "The Forty-Niners" had already stirred theimagination of Ruth and her two closest friends. But the idea of forminga larger party to ride through the wilds from Yucca to Freezeout Campwas a novel one.

  "It will be great fun," said Helen again. "Of course, old Tom will goalong anyway----"

  "To chaperon us," giggled Jennie.

  "No. To see we don't fall out of our saddles," Ruth laughed. "Now! let'sthink about it, girls, and decide on whom we shall invite."

  "Trix and Sally," Jennie said.

  "And Ann Hicks!" cried Helen. "You write to her, Ruth."

  "I will to-night," promised her chum. "And I'm going to speak to RebeccaFrayne at once."

  "I'll see Beatrice," stated Jennie, moving toward the door.

  "And I'll run and ask Sally. She's a good old scout," said Helen.

  But as soon as the plump girl had departed, Helen flung herself uponRuth. "Who was she? Tell me, quick!" she demanded.

  "The girl under that window?"

  "Of course. You know, Ruthie."

  "I--I suspect," her chum said slowly.

  "Tell me!"

  "Edie Phelps."

  "There!" exclaimed Helen, her black eyes fairly snapping withexcitement. "I thought so."

  "You did?" asked Ruth, puzzled. "Why should she be listening to us?She's never shown any particular interest in us Briarwoods."

  "But for a week or two I've noticed her hanging around. It's somethingconcerning this vacation trip she wants to find out about, I believe."

  "Why, how odd!" Ruth said. "I can't understand it."

  "I wish we'd caught her," said Helen, sharply, for she did not like thesophomore in question. Edith Phelps had been something of a "thorn inthe flesh" to the chums during their freshman year.

  "Well, I don't know," Ruth murmured. "It would only have brought onanother quarrel with her. We'd better ignore it altogether I think."

  "Humph!" sniffed Helen. "That doesn't satisfy my curiosity; and I'mfrank to confess that I'm bitten deep by _that_ microbe."

  "Oh well, my dear," said Ruth, teasingly, "there are many things in thislife it is better you should not know. Ahem! I'm going to see Rebecca."

  Helen ran off, too, to Sarah Blanchard's room. Many of the girls' doorswere ajar and there was much visiting back and forth on this lastevening; while the odor of tea permeated every nook and cranny of DareHall.

  Rebecca's door was closed, however, as Ruth expected. Rebecca Frayne wasnot as yet socially popular at Ardmore--not even among the girls of herown class.

  In the first place she had come to college with an entirely wrong ideaof what opportunities for higher education meant for a girl. Her peoplewere very poor and very proud--a family of old New England stock thatlooked down upon those who achieved success "in trade."

  Had it not been for Ruth Fielding's very good sense, and her advice andaid, Rebecca could never have remained at Ardmore to complete herfreshman year. During this time, and especially toward the last of theschool year, she had learned some things of importance besides what wascontained within the covers of her textbooks.

  But Ruth worried over the possibility that before their sophomore yearshould open in September, the influence at home would undo all the goodRebecca Frayne had gained.

  "I've just the thing for you, Becky!" Ruth Fielding cried, carrying herfriend's study by storm. "What do you think?"

  "Something nice, I presume, Ruth Fielding. You always _are_ doingsomething uncommonly kind for me."

  "Nonsense!"

  "No nonsense about it. I was just wondering what I should ever dowithout you all this long summer."

  "That's it!" cried Ruth, laughing. "You're not going to get rid of me soeasily."

  "What do you mean?" asked Rebecca, wonderingly.

  "That you'll go with us. I need you badly, Becky. You've learned torattle the typewriter so nicely----"

  "Want me to get an office position for the summer near you?" Rebeccaasked, the flush rising in her cheek.

  "Better than that," declared Ruth, ignoring Rebecca's flush and tone ofvoice. "You know, I told you we are going
West."

  "You and Cameron? Yes."

  "And Jennie Stone, and perhaps others. But I want you particularly."

  "Oh, Ruth Fielding! I couldn't! You know just how _dirt poor_ we are.It's all Buddie can do to find the money for my soph year here. No! Itis impossible!"

  "Nothing is impossible. 'In the bright lexicon of youth,' and so forth.You can go if you will."

  "I couldn't accept such a great kindness, Ruth," Rebecca said, in herhard voice.

  "Better wait till you learn how terribly kind I am," laughed Ruth. "Ihave an axe to grind, my dear."

  "An axe!"

  "Yes, indeedy! I want you to help me. I really do."

  "To _write?_" gasped Rebecca. "You know very well, Ruth Fielding, that Ican scarcely compose a decent letter. I _hate_ that form of human follyknown as 'Lit-ra-choor.' I couldn't do it."

  "No," said Ruth, smiling demurely. "I am going to write my own scenario.But I will get a portable typewriter, and I want you to copy my stuff.Besides, there will be several copies to make, and some work after thedirector gets there. Oh, you'll have no sinecure! And if you'll go anddo it, I'll put up the money but you'll be paying all the expenses,Becky. What say?"

  Ruth knew very well that if she had offered to pay Rebecca a salary thefoolishly proud girl would never have accepted. But she had put it insuch a way that Rebecca Frayne could not but accept.

  "You dear!" she said, with her arms about Ruth's neck and displaying asshe seldom did the real love she felt for the girl of the Red Mill."I'll do it. I've an old riding habit of auntie's that I can make over.And of course, I can ride."

  "You'd better make your habit into bloomers and a divided skirt,"laughed Ruth. "That's how Jane Ann--and Helen and Jennie, too--will dress,as well as your humble servant. There _are_ women who ride sidesaddle inthe West; but they do not ride into the rough trails that we are goingto attempt. In fact, most of 'em wear trousers outright."

  "Goodness! My aunt would have a fit," murmured Rebecca Frayne.