Kitabı oku: «Ruth Fielding at Briarwood Hall: or, Solving the Campus Mystery», sayfa 9

CHAPTER XXI
ON THE ICE

If Ruth Fielding's eyes were a bit red when the wagonette finally came to the landing, nobody would have suspected her of crying. Least of all Tom Cameron, for she jumped down with a glad cry when she saw him, and dropped her skates and shook both his hands in a most cordial greeting.

"Helen hinted that you might be here, Tom, but I could hardly believe it," she said.

"We want to hurry and catch up with them," he said. Some of the girls were already on the ice. "We'd better go."

But the other girls had alighted, and following them came Miss Reynolds. Now, Ruth liked Miss Reynolds very much, but the teacher came towards them, looking rather grave.

"This is Helen Cameron's brother Tom, Miss Reynolds," said Ruth. "He attends the Seven Oaks Military Academy."

"I see," said the teacher, quietly. "And where is Miss Cameron?"

"She has gone on with Bob Steele and his sister," explained Tom, seeing instantly that all was not right. "You see, some of us fellows got permission to come over here to Triton Lake to-day. Mr. Hargreaves, one of our tutors, is with us."

"I know Mr. Hargreaves," said Miss Reynolds. "But I had no warning – nor had Mrs. Tellingham, I believe – that any of the young gentlemen from Major Parradel's school were to be here."

"Well, it will make it all the nicer, I am sure," Tom suggested, with his winning smile. "We'll all – all us fellows, I mean – try to behave our prettiest, Miss Reynolds."

"Undoubtedly you will be on your good behavior," said the teacher, drily.

But Tom and Ruth could not hurry on ahead now. Miss Reynolds walked sedately with them down to the landing. By that time Mary Cox and most of the Upedes were on the ice – and they were joined by all the boys but Tom. The Fox had laid her plans well.

Mr. Hargreaves skated back to shake hands with Miss Reynolds. "This is a surprise," he said. "I am sure I did not expect to find you and your young ladies here, Miss Reynolds."

"Are you sure that the meeting is quite unexpected by both parties?" she returned, with a grave smile. "If we are surprised, Mr. Hargreaves, I fancy that our young charges may have been rather better informed in advance than we were."

The gentleman shrugged his shoulders. "I give that up!" he said. "It may be. I see you have your hands full here. Shall I take my – er – my remaining young man away with me?" he asked, looking aside at Tom, who was already fastening Ruth's skates.

"Oh, no," said Miss Reynolds, grimly. "I'll make use of him!"

And she most certainly did. Tom was anxious to get Ruth away at once so that they could catch up with the foremost skaters; but he could not refuse to aid her teacher. And then there were others of the girls to help. They were all on the ice before Master Tom could get his own skates on.

Then there was a basket to carry, and of course Tom could not see the teacher or one of the girls carry it. He took it manfully. Then Miss Reynolds gave Ruth her hand and skated with her, and Master Tom was fain to skate upon Ruth's other hand. And so they went on slowly, while the lively crowd ahead drew farther and farther away. It was not an unpleasant journey out across the smooth lake, however, and perhaps the party who had but one boy for escort had just as pleasant a time in many respects as those in advance.

Ruth made her friend acquainted with all the Sweetbriars who were present and whispered to him how he had really named the new Briarwood society. That vastly tickled Tom and he made himself just as agreeable to the girls as he knew how. Miss Reynolds was no wet blanket on the fun, either, and she was as good a skater as Tom himself. Ruth had improved greatly, and before they reached the frost-bound Minnetonka the teacher relieved Tom of his basket and told him to give the girl from the Red Mill a lesson in skating with a partner – practice which she sorely needed.

It was spirited indeed to fly over the ice, guided by Tom's sure foot and hand. They described a great curve and came back to Miss Reynolds and the other girls, who progressed more sedately. Then Tom gave his hands to two of the older girls and with their arms stretched at full length the trio went careening over the ice on the "long roll" in a way that made Ruth, looking on with shining eyes, fairly hold her breath.

"It's wonderful!" she cried, when the three came back, glowing with the exercise. "Do you suppose I can ever learn that, Tom?"

"Why, Ruthie, you're so sure of yourself on the skates that I believe I could teach you to roll very easily. If Miss Reynolds will allow me?"

"Go on, Master Tom," the teacher said, laughing. "But don't go too far away. We are nearing the boat now."

The first party that had struck out from the shore had all arrived at the ice-bound Minnetonka now, and many of them were skating in couples thereabout. At the stern of the steamboat was an open place in the ice, for Ruth and Tom could see the water sparkling. There was little wind, but it was keen; the sun was quite warm and the exercise kept the skaters from feeling the cold.

"Hullo!" exclaimed Tom to Ruth, as they began to get into good stroke – for the girl was an apt pupil – "who is that old Bobbins has got under his wing?"

"Who is Bobbins?" asked Ruth, with a laugh.

"My bunkie – that's what we call our chums at Seven Oaks. Bob Steele."

"Madge Steele's brother?"

"Yes. And no end of a good fellow," declared Tom. "But, my aunt! don't his sister rig him, though? Asked old Bobbins if he had the croup?" and Tom went off into a burst of laughter.

"Do you mean the tall, light-haired boy?" Ruth queried.

"Yes. They're skating back toward the steamboat now – see, towards the stern."

"That is Mary Cox with your friend," said Ruth, a little gravely.

"Hullo!" ejaculated Tom, again.

He started ahead at full clip, bearing Ruth on with him. Something had happened to the couple Tom and Ruth had noticed. They swerved to one side and suddenly Bob Steele went down.

"His skate's broke!" erred Tom. "Hope old Bobbins isn't hurt. Great Scott! the girl's with him!"

Mary Cox had indeed fallen. For a moment the two figures, flung by the momentum of their pace, slid over the ice. There came a wild shout from those nearer the boat – then a splash!

"They're in the water!" cried Ruth, in horror.

She retarded Tom very little, but dashed forward, keeping in stroke with him. She heard Tom whisper:

"Poor old Bobbins! he'll be drowned!"

"No, no, Tom! We can get to them," gasped Ruth.

Indeed, she and her escort were the nearest to the open place in the lake into which Bob Steele and Mary Cox had fallen. If anybody in sight could help the victims of the accident Tom and Ruth could!

CHAPTER XXII
THE HARPIST ONCE MORE

Over all, Ruth wore a woolen sweater – one of those stretchy, clinging coats with great pearl buttons that was just the thing for a skating frolic. It had been her one reckless purchase since being at Briarwood, she and Helen having gone down into Lumberton on Saturday and purchased coats. While Ruth and Tom were yet some yards from the open water the girl began to unbutton this.

"Careful, Tom!" she gasped. "Not too near – wait!"

"It's thick 'way to the edge," he returned, pantingly.

"No, it isn't. That's why Mary Cox went in. I saw the ice break under her when she tried to turn and escape."

Thus warned, Tom dug the heel of his right skate into the ice as a brake, and they slowed down.

Ruth let go of his hand and wriggled out of her coat in a moment. Then she dropped to her knees and slid along the ice, while Tom flung himself forward and traveled just as though he were sliding down hill.

"Take this, Tom!" cried Ruth, and tossed the coat to him. "We'll make a chain – I'll hold your feet. Not too near!"

"Hold on, Bobbins!" yelled young Cameron. "We'll have you out in a minute!"

Mary Cox had screamed very loudly at first; and she struggled with her fellow victim, too. Bob Steele was trying to hold her up, but finally he was obliged to let her go, and she went under water with a gurgling cry.

"Grab her again, Bobbins!" called Tom, flinging Ruth's coat ahead of him, but holding firmly to it himself by the two sleeves.

"I've got her!" gasped Bob Steele, his teeth chattering, and up The Fox came again, her hair all dripping, and her face very pale.

"Good!" said Tom. "She's swallowed enough water to keep her still for a while – what? Come on, now, old boy! Don't wait! Catch hold!"

As Ruth had warned him, the edge of the ice was fragile. He dared not push himself out too far with the sharp toes of his skates. He dug them into the ice now hard, and made another cast with the coat.

His chum caught it. Tom drew them slowly toward the edge of the ice. Ruth pulled back as hard as she could, and together they managed to work their bodies at least two yards farther from the open water. The ice stopped cracking under Tom's breast.

There was the ring of skates and shouting of voices in their ears, and Ruth, raising herself slightly, looked around and screamed to the crowd to keep back. Indeed, the first of Tom's school friends would have skated right down upon them had they not thus been warned.

"Keep back!" Ruth cried. "We can get them out. Don't come nearer!"

Tom seconded her warning, too. But mainly he gave himself up to the work of aiding the two in the water. Bob Steele lifted the girl up – he was a strong swimmer even in that icy bath – and did it with one hand, too, for he clung to Ruth's coat with the other.

Mary Cox began to struggle again. Fortunately Bob had her half upon the ice. Tom reached forward and seized her shoulder. He dragged back with all his strength. The ice crashed in again; but Mary did not fall back, for Tom jerked her heavily forward.

"Now we've got her!" called Tom.

And they really had. Mary Cox was drawn completely out of the water. Mr. Hargreaves, meanwhile, had flown to the rescue with two of the bigger boys. They got down on the ice, forming a second living chain, and hitching forward, the tutor seized the half-conscious girl's hand. The others drew back and dragged Mr. Hargreaves, with the girl, to firm ice.

Meanwhile Tom, with Ruth to help him, struggled manfully to get Bob Steele out. That youngster was by no means helpless, and they accomplished the rescue smartly.

"And that's thanks to you, Ruthie!" declared Tom, when the tutor and Miss Reynolds had hurried the half-drowned girl and young Steele off to the Minnetonka. "I'd never have gotten him but for you – and look at your coat!"

"It will dry," laughed the girl from the Red Mill. "Let's hurry after them, Tom. You're wet a good deal, too – and I shall miss my coat, being so heated. Come on!"

But she could not escape the congratulations of the girls and boys when they reached the steamboat. Even Mary Cox's closest friends gathered around Ruth to thank her. Nobody could gainsay the fact that Ruth had been of great help in the recovery of Mary and Bob from the lake.

But Helen! had the other girls – and Miss Reynolds – not been in the little cabin of the boat which had been given up to the feminine members of the party, she would have broken down and cried on Ruth's shoulder. To think that she had been guilty of neglecting her chum!

"I believe I have been bewitched, Ruthie," she whispered. "Tom, I know, is on the verge of scolding me. What did you say to him?"

"Nothing that need trouble you in the least, you may be sure, Helen," said Ruth. "But, my dear, if it has taken such a thing as this– which is not a thing to go into heroics over – to remind you that I might possibly be hurt by your treatment, I am very sorry indeed."

"Why, Ruth!" Helen gasped. "You don't forgive me?"

"I am not at all sure, Helen, that you either need or want my forgiveness," returned Ruth. "You have done nothing yourself for which you need to ask it – er, at least, very little; but your friends have insulted and been unkind to me. I do not think that I could have called girls my friends who had treated you so, Helen."

Miss Cox had retired to a small stateroom belonging to one of the officers of the boat, while her clothing was dried by the colored stewardess. Bob Steele, however, borrowed some old clothes of some of the crew, and appeared when the lunch was ready in those nondescript garments, greatly adding to the enjoyment of the occasion.

"Well, sonny, your croup will bother you sure enough, after that dip," declared his sister. "Come! let sister tuck your bib in like a nice boy. And don't gobble!"

Bob was such a big fellow – his face was so pink, and his hair so yellow – that Madge's way of talking to him made him seem highly comic. The fellows from Seven Oaks shouted with laughter, and the girls giggled. Mr. Hargreaves and Miss Reynolds, both relieved beyond expression by the happy conclusion of what might have been a very serious accident, did not quell the fun; and fifty or sixty young people never had such a good time before in the saloon of the lake steamer, Minnetonka.

Suddenly music began somewhere about the boat and the young folk began to get restive. Some ran for their skates again, for the idea was to remain near the steamer for a while and listen to the music before going back to shore. The music was a piano, guitar, violin, and harp, and when Ruth heard it and recognized the latter instrument she was suddenly reminded of Miss Picolet and the strange harpist who (she firmly believed) had caused the startling sound at the fountain.

"Let's go and see who's playing," she whispered to Helen, who had clung close to her ever since they had come aboard the steamboat. And as Tom was on the other side of his sister, he went with them into the forward part of the boat.

"Well, what do you know about that?" demanded Tom, almost before the girls were in the forward cabin. "Isn't that the big man with the red waistcoat that frightened that little woman on the Lanawaxa? You know, you pointed them out to me on the dock at Portageton, Helen? Isn't that him at the harp?"

"Oh! it is, indeed!" ejaculated his sister. "What a horrid man he is! Let's come away."

But Ruth was deeply interested in the harpist. She wondered what knowledge of, or what connection he had with, the little French teacher, Miss Picolet. And she wondered, too, if her suspicions regarding the mystery of the campus – the sounding of the harpstring in the dead of night – were borne out by the facts?

Had this coarse fellow, with his pudgy hands, his corpulency, his drooping black mustache, some hold upon Miss Picolet? Had he followed her to Briarwood Hall, and had he made her meet him behind the fountain just at that hour when the Upedes were engaged in hazing Helen and herself? These thoughts arose in her mind again as Ruth gazed apprehensively at the ugly-looking harpist.

Helen pulled her sleeve and Ruth was turning away when she saw that the little, piglike eyes of the harpist were turned upon them. He smiled in his sly way and actually nodded at them.

"Sh! he remembers us," whispered Helen. "Oh, do come away, Ruth!"

"He isn't any handsome object, that's a fact," muttered Tom. "And the cheek of him – nodding to you two girls!"

After the excitement of the accident on the lake our friends did not feel much like skating until it came time to go back to the landing. Mr. Hargreaves was out on the ice with those students of the two schools who preferred to skate; but Miss Reynolds remained in the cabin. Mary Cox had had her lunch in the little stateroom, wrapped in blankets and in the company of an oil-stove, for heat's sake. Now she came out, re-dressed in her own clothes, which were somewhat mussed and shrunken in appearance.

Helen ran to her at once to congratulate Mary on her escape. "And wasn't it lucky Tom and Ruth were so near you?" she cried. "And dear old Ruthie! she's quite a heroine; isn't she? And you must meet Tom."

"I shall be glad to meet and thank your brother, Helen," said The Fox, rather crossly. "But I don't see what need there is to make a fuss over Fielding. Your brother and Mr. Hargreaves pulled Mr. Steele and me out or the lake."

Helen stepped back and her pretty face flushed. She had begun to see Mary Cox in her true light. Certainly she was in no mood just then to hear her chum disparaged. She looked around for Tom and Ruth; the former was talking quietly with Miss Reynolds, but Ruth had slipped away when The Fox came into the cabin.

Mary Cox walked unperturbed to the teacher and Tom and put out her hand to the youth, thanking him very nicely for what he had done.

"Oh, you mustn't thank me more than the rest of them," urged Tom. "At least, I did no more than Ruthie. By the way, where is Ruthie?"

But Ruth Fielding had disappeared, and they did not see her again until the call was given for the start home. Then she appeared from the forward part of the boat, very pale and silent, and all the way to the shore, skating between Tom and Helen, she had scarcely a word to say.

CHAPTER XXIII
THE SECRET

For there was the burden of a secret on Ruth Fielding's mind and heart. She had slipped away when she saw The Fox appear in the outer cabin and, walking forward, had been stopped suddenly in a cross gallery by a firm touch upon her arm.

"Sh! Mademoiselle!"

Before she looked into the shadowy place she realized that it was the harpist. His very presence so near her made Ruth shrink and tremble for an instant. But then she recovered her self-possession and asked, unshakenly:

"What do you want of me?"

"Ah, Mademoiselle! Kind Mademoiselle!" purred the great creature – and Ruth knew well what his villainous smile must look like, although she could not see it. "May the unfortunate vagabond musician speak a single word into Mademoiselle's ear?"

"You have spoken several words into it already, sir," said Ruth, sharply. "What do you want?"

"Ah! the Mademoiselle is so practical," murmured the harpist again.

"Be quick," commanded Ruth, for although she had a strong repugnance for the fellow there was no reason why she should fear him, with so many people within call. "State your reason for stopping me, sir."

"The Mademoiselle is from the school – the institute where learning is taught the lo-fe-ly Misses?"

He thus made three syllables of "lovely" and Ruth knew that he leered like a Billiken in the dark.

"I am at Briarwood Hall – yes," she said.

"I have seen the kind Mademoiselle before," said the man. "On the boat on that other so-beeg lake – Osago, is it?"

"On the Lanawaxa– yes," admitted Ruth.

"Ah! I am proud. The Mademoiselle remember me," he exclaimed, bowing in the dark alley.

"Go on," urged Ruth, impatiently.

"It is of the leetle lady – Mademoiselle Picolet – I would speak," he said, more quickly.

"Our French teacher – yes."

"Then, knowing her, will the Mademoiselle take a small note from the poor musician to the good Picolet? 'Tis a small matter – no?"

"You want me to do this without telling anybody about it?" questioned Ruth, bluntly.

"Oui, oui, Mademoiselle! You have the discernment beyond your years. Indeed!"

"I knew it must be something underhanded you wanted," declared Ruth, boldly.

He laughed and Ruth saw a small envelope thrust toward her in the dusk of the passage. "You will take it?" he said.

"I will take it – providing you do not come there again," exclaimed Ruth.

"Come where?" he demanded.

"To the school. To the campus where the fountain is."

"Ha! you know that, my pretty bird?" he returned. "Well! this will perhaps relieve the good Picolet of my presence – who knows?"

"Then I will take it," Ruth said, hastily, her hand closing on the billet.

"Comme il faut," he said, and went away down the passage, humming in his bassoon voice.

And so, as she sped shoreward between her two friends, Ruth had the little letter tucked away in the bosom of her frock. The secret troubled her. She was really glad to say good bye to Tom at the landing, and all the way back in the wagonette, although Helen sat close to her and tried to show her how sorry she was for her past neglect, Ruth was very silent.

For she was much disturbed by this secret. She feared she was doing wrong in carrying the note to Miss Picolet. Yet, under different circumstances, she might have thought little of it. But after her talk with Mrs. Tellingham about the mystery of the campus, she was troubled to think that she was taking any part in the French teacher's private affairs.

Helen was so filled with the excitement of the day, and of her long talk with her twin brother, that she did not observe Ruth's distraught manner.

"And we'll have such fun!" Ruth finally awoke to hear her chum declare in a whisper. "Father's always promised to get a place in the woods, and Snow Camp is a delightful spot."

"What are you talking about, Helen?" demanded Ruth, suddenly.

"I don't believe you've heard a thing I've been saying," cried her chum.

"I haven't heard everything," admitted Ruth. "But tell me now; I'll listen."

"It's about the Christmas Holidays. You shall go with us. We're going 'way up in the woods – to a hunting camp that father has bought. We were there for a week-end once when Mr. Parrish owned it. Snow Camp is the most delightful place."

"I am sure you will have a fine time," Ruth said, generously.

"And so you will, too," declared Helen, "for you're going."

"My dear! I am going home to the Red Mill at Christmas."

"And we'll go home for Christmas, too; but there are three weeks' holidays, and two of them we will spend at Snow Camp. Oh, yes we will!" Helen cried. "I'd cry my eyes out if you didn't go, Ruth."

"But Uncle Jabez – "

"We'll just tease him until he lets you go. He'll not object much, I'm sure. I should just cry my eyes out if you didn't go with us, Ruthie," she repeated.

The plan for the winter holidays sank into insignificance in Ruth's mind, however, when they left the carriages and ran over to the West Dormitory just as evening was falling. Mercy waved a white hand to them from her window as they crossed the campus; but Ruth allowed Helen to run ahead while she halted in the lower corridor and asked Miss Scrimp if the French teacher was in her room.

"Oh, yes, Miss Ruthie," said the matron. "Miss Picolet is in. You can knock."

As Ruth asked this question and received its answer she saw Mary Cox come in alone at the hall door. The Fox had not spoken to Ruth since the accident on the ice. Now she cast no pleasant glance in Ruth's direction. Yet, seeing the younger girl approaching Miss Picolet's door, Mary smiled one of her very queerest smiles, nodded her head with secret satisfaction, and marched on upstairs to her own study.

"Enter!" said Miss Picolet's soft voice in answer to Ruth's timid rap on the panel of the door.

The girl entered and found the little French teacher sewing by the window. Miss Picolet looked up, saw who it was, and welcomed Ruth with a smile.

"I hope you have had a joyful day, Miss Ruth," she said. "Come to the radiator – you are cold."

"I am going to run upstairs in a moment, Mademoiselle," said Ruth, hesitatingly. "But I have a message for you."

"A message for me?" said the lady, in surprise.

"Yes, ma'am."

"From the Preceptress, Ruth?"

"No, Miss Picolet. It – it is a letter that has been given me to be handed to you – secretly."

The little teacher's withered cheek flushed and her bright little eyes clouded. By the way one of her hands fluttered over her heart, too, Ruth knew that Miss Picolet was easily frightened.

"A letter for me?" she whispered.

Ruth was unbuttoning her coat and frock to get at the letter. She said:

"There was an orchestra on that boat that was frozen into the ice, Miss Picolet. One of the musicians spoke to me. He knew you – or said he did – "

The girl hated to go on, Miss Picolet turned so pale and looked so frightened. But it had to be done, and Ruth pursued her story:

"I had seen the man before – the day we came to school here, Helen and I. He played the harp on the Lanawaxa."

"Ah!" gasped the French woman, holding out her hand. "No more, my dear! I understand. Let me have it."

But now Ruth hesitated and stammered, and felt in the bosom of her dress with growing fear. She looked at Miss Picolet, her own face paling.

"Oh, Miss Picolet!" she suddenly burst out. "What will you think? What can I say?"

"What – what is the matter?" gasped the French teacher.

"I – I haven't got it – it is gone!"

"What do you mean, Ruth Fielding?" cried Miss Picolet, springing to her feet.

"It's gone – I've lost it! Oh, my dear Miss Picolet! I didn't mean to. I tried to be so careful. But I have lost the letter he gave me addressed to you!"