Ruth Fielding in the Great Northwest; Or, The Indian Girl Star of the Movies Read online

  CHAPTER V

  INSPIRATION

  It was on the verge of evening, and a keen and searching wind wasblowing across the ruffled Lumano, when Helen Cameron's car and itsthree occupants came in sight of the old Red Mill. Mercy Curtis had beendropped at the Cheslow railway station, where she had the "second trick"as telegraph operator.

  For the last few miles of the journey from the Wild West Show there hadbeen a good-natured, wordy battle between Ruth and Helen as to which ofthe twain was to have Jennie Stone for the night.

  "Her trunk is at my house," Helen declared. "So now!"

  "But her toilet bag is at the farmhouse. And, anyway, I could easilylend her pajamas."

  "She could never get into a suit of yours, you know very well, RuthFielding!" exclaimed Helen.

  "I'd get one of Uncle Jabez's long flannel nightgowns for her, then,"giggled Ruth.

  "Look here! I don't seem to be in such great favor with either of you,after all," interposed the plump girl. "One would think I was a freak.And I prefer my own night apparel in any case."

  "Then you'll come home with me," Helen announced.

  "But I have things at Ruth's house, just as she says," said Jennie.

  At the moment the car wheeled around the turn in the road and Helenstopped it at the gate before the old, shingled farmhouse which wasconnected by a passage with the grist mill. A light flashed in thewindow and at once the place looked very inviting. A door opened uponthe side porch, and to the girls' nostrils was wafted a most deliciousodor of frying cakes.

  "That settles it!" ejaculated Jennie Stone, and immediately sprang outof the car. "I'm as hungry as a bear. I'll see you to-morrow, Nell, ifyou'll ride over. But don't come too near mealtime. I never couldwithstand Aunt Alvirah's cooking. M-mm! Griddle-cakes--with lashin's ofbutter and sugar on 'em, I wager."

  "Dear me!" sighed Helen, as Ruth, too, got out, laughing. "You areincurable, Jennie. Your goddess is your tummy."

  But the plump girl was not at all abashed. She ran up the walk on to theporch and warmly greeted the little old woman who stood in the doorway.

  "How-do, Jennie. Oh, my back and oh, my bones! Be careful, child! I'mkinder tottery to-day, and no mistake. Coming in, Helen Cameron?"

  "Not to-night, Aunt Alvirah," replied the girl, starting the car again."Good-night, all."

  "And here's my pretty!" crooned Aunt Alvirah, putting up her thin armsto encircle Ruth's neck as the girl came in. "It does seem good to haveyou home again. Your Uncle Jabez (who is softer-hearted than you wouldsuppose) is just as glad to have you home as I am, to be sure."

  They had a merry supper in the wide, home-like kitchen, for even themiller when he came in was cheerful. He had had a good day at the gristmill. The cash-box was heavy that night, but he did not retire to hisroom to count his receipts as early as usual. The chatter of the twogirls kept the old man interested.

  "It is a shame that the Indian agent should let a girl like Wonota signa contract with that Dakota Joe. Anybody might see, to look at him, thathe was a bad man," Jennie Stone said with vehemence at one point in thediscussion.

  "I am not much troubled over that point for the girl," said Ruth. "Shesays she has already written to the agent at the Three Rivers Station,Oklahoma, telling him how badly Fenbrook treats her. That will soon beover. She will get her release."

  "I shouldn't wonder," said Uncle Jabez, "that if a gal can fire a gunlike you say she can, there ain't much reason to worry about her. Shecan take care of herself with that showman."

  "But suppose she should be tempted to do something really desperate!"cried Ruth. "I hope nothing like that will happen. She is really asavage by instinct."

  "And a pretty one," agreed Jennie, thoughtfully.

  "Shucks! Pretty is as pretty does," said Aunt Alvirah. "I didn't s'posethere was any real wild Injuns left."

  "You'd think she was wild," chuckled Jennie, "if you'd seen her drawbead on that Dakota Joe person."

  "All that is not so much to the point," pursued Ruth. "I know that thegirl wants to earn money--not alone for her mere living. She could goback to the reservation and live very comfortably without working--much.The Osage Nation is not at all poverty stricken and it holds itsproperty ill community fashion."

  "What makes her travel around in such a foolish way, then?" Aunt Alvirahasked.

  "She wants ready cash. She wants it for a good purpose, too," explainedRuth thoughtfully. "You see, this girl's father is Chief Totantora, aleading figure in the Osage Nation. The year before Germany began thewar he was traveling with a Wild West Show in Europe. The show was inthe interior of Germany when war came and the frontiers were closed.

  "Once only did Wonota hear from her father. He was then in a detentioncamp, for, being a good American, he refused to bow down to Hun gods--"

  "I should say he had a right to call himself an American, if anybodyhas," said Jennie quickly.

  "And he is not the only Indian who proved his loyalty to a Governmentthat, perhaps, has not always treated the original Americans justly,"Ruth remarked.

  "I dunno," grumbled Uncle Jabez. "Injuns is Injuns. You say yourselfthis gal is pretty wild."

  "She is independent, at any rate. She wishes to earn enough money to setafoot a private inquiry for Chief Totantora. For she does not believe heis dead."

  "Well, the poor dear," Aunt Alvirah said, "she'd ought to be helped, Ihaven't a doubt."

  "Now, now!" exclaimed the miller, suspiciously. "Charity begins at home.I hope you ain't figgerin' on any foolish waste of money, Niece Ruth."

  The latter laughed. "I don't think Wonota would accept charity," shesaid. "And I have no intention of offering it to her in any case. But Ishould like to help the girl find her father--indeed I should."

  "You'd oughtn't to think you have to help everybody you come 'cross inthe world, gal," advised Uncle Jabez, finally picking up the cash-box toretire to his room. "Every tub ought to stand on its own bottom, as I'veallus told ye."

  When he was gone Aunt Alvirah shook her head sadly.

  "Ain't much brotherhood of man in Jabez Potter's idees of life," shesaid. "He says nobody ever helped him get up in the world, so why shouldhe help others?"

  "Of all things!" exclaimed Ruth, with some warmth. "I wonder what hewould have done all these years without you to make a home for himhere!"

  "Tut, tut!" objected the old woman. "'Tain't me that's done for him. Iwas a poor lone creeter in the poorhouse when Jabez Potter came and tookme out. I know that deep down in his old heart there's a flame ofcharity. Who should know it better?"

  "Oh, dear!" cried Ruth. "He keeps it wonderfully well hidden--thatflame. He certainly does."

  Jennie laughed. "Well, why shouldn't he be cautious? See how many timesyou have been charitable, Ruth, and seen no gratitude in return."

  "Well!" gasped the girl of the Red Mill, in disgust, "is _that_ what weare to be charitable for? For shame!"

  "Right you are, my pretty," said Aunt Alvirah. "Doin' one's duty forduty's sake is the way the good Lord intended. And if Jabez Potter ischaritable without knowin' it--and he _is_--all the better. It's chargedup to his credit in heaven, I have no doubt."

  The girls were tired after their long ride in the keen evening air andthey were ready for bed at a comparatively early hour. But after Ruthhad got into bed she could not sleep.

  Thoughts rioted in her brain. For a week she had felt the inspiration ofcreative work milling in her mind--that is what she called it. She hadpromised the president of the Alectrion Film Corporation to think upsome unusual story--preferably an outdoor plot--for their next picture.And thus far nothing had formed in her mind that suggested the thingdesired.

  Outdoor stories had the call on the screen. They had but lately made oneon the coast of Maine, the details of which are given in "Ruth FieldingDown East." Earlier in her career as a screen writer the girl of the RedMill had made a success of a subject which was photographed in themining country of the West. "Ruth Fielding in the Saddle" tells thestory of this v
enture.

  There spun through her half-drowsing brain scenes of the Wild West Showthey had attended this day. That was surely "outdoor stuff." Was thereanything in what she had seen to-day to suggest a novel scheme for amoving picture?

  She turned and tossed. Her eyes would not remain closed. The program ofDakota Joe's Wild West and Frontier Round-Up marched in sequence throughher memory. She did not want anything like that in her picture. It wasall "old stuff," and the crying need of the film producer is "somethingnew under the sun."

  Yet there was color and action in much of the afternoon's performance.Even Dakota Joe himself--as the figure of a villain, for instance--wasnot to be scorned. And Princess Wonota herself--

  If the story was up to date, showing the modern, full-blooded Indianprincess in love and action! Ruth suddenly bounded out of bed. Shegrabbed a warm robe, wrapped herself in it and ran across to Jennie'sroom.

  "Jennie! Jennie! I've got it!" Ruth cried in a loud whisper.

  Jennie's only answer was a prolonged and pronounced snore! She was lyingon her back.

  "Jennie Stone!" exclaimed Ruth, shaking the plump girl by the shoulder.

  "Wo--wow--ough! Is it fire?" gasped Jennie, finally aroused.

  "No, no! I've got it!" repeated Ruth.

  "Well--ell--I hope it isn't catching," said the other rather crossly."You've spoiled--ow!--my beauty sleep, Ruthie Fielding."

  "Listen!" commanded her friend. "I've the greatest idea for a picture. Iknow Mr. Hammond will be delighted. I am going to get Wonota on contractwhen she breaks with Dakota Joe. I'll make her the central figure of abig picture. She shall be the leading lady."

  "Why, Ruthie Fielding! that's something you have never yet done for me,and I have been your friend for years and years."

  "Never mind. When it seems that the time is ripe to screen a story abouta pretty, plump girl, you shall have an important part in theproduction," promised Ruth. "But listen to me--do! I am going to makePrincess Wonota an Indian star--"

  "I believe you," drawled the plump girl. "I suppose you might call her a'shooting star'?"