CHAPTER XIX
COUNTERCLAIMS
"I declare, Ruth! that was a ridiculous thing to do," exclaimed Helen,when they were on their way back to the Point. "But it certainly broughtthe sewing circle women all up standing."
"I've been wondering all day what Ruth was up to," said Tom, who wassteering the big car. "I was in on it without understanding her game."
"Well, it was just what the directer needed," chuckled Jennie. "Oh, ittakes our Ruth to do things."
"I wonder?" sighed the girl of the Red Mill, in no responsive mood.
She had something very unpleasant before her that she felt she must do,and nothing could raise her spirits. She did not speak to anybody aboutthe hermit's scenario. She waited for Mr. Hammond to express his opinionof it.
At the camp she found a letter for her from the doctor's wife who hadpromised to keep her informed regarding Arabella Montague FitzmauricePike. That young person was doing well and getting fat at the Perkins'farm. But Mrs. Holmes was quite sure that she had not heard from herfather.
"You've got another half-orphan on your hands, Ruth," said Helen. She madeit a point always to object to Ruth's charities. "I don't believe that manwill ever show up again. If he went away with a medicine show----"
"No, no," said Ruth firmly. "No child would ever respect and love herfather as Bella does if he was not good to her. He will turn up."
Just then Tom called from outside the door of the girls' shack.
"What say to a moonlight dip off the Point?" he asked. "The tide is notvery low. And I missed my splash this morning."
"We're with you, Tommy," responded his sister. "Wait till we get intobathing suits."
Even Ruth was enthusiastic--to a degree--over this. In twenty minutes theywere running up the beach with Tom and Henri toward the end of the Point.
"Let's go over and get the surf," suggested Jennie. "I do love surfbathing. All you have to do is to bob up and down in one place."
"Heavy is lazy even in her sport," scoffed Helen. "But I'm game for therough stuff."
They crossed the neck of land near the hermit's hut. There was a hardbeach almost in front of the hut, and up this the breakers rolled andfoamed delightfully. The so-called hermit, hearing their voices, came outand sat on a rock to watch them. But he did not offer to speak until Ruthwent over to him.
"Mr. Hammond let me read your script, John," she said coldly.
"Indeed?" he rejoined without emotion.
"Where did you get the idea for that scenario?"
He tapped his head with a long forefinger. "Right inside of that skull. Ido my own thinking," he said.
"You did not have any help about it? You originated the idea of 'PlainMary?'"
He nodded. "You ain't the only person who can write a picture," heobserved. "And I think that this one they are filming for you is silly."
Ruth stared down at him, but said nothing more. She was ready to go backto camp as soon as the others would, and she remained very silent. Mr.Hammond had been asking for her, Miss Loder said. When Ruth had got intosomething more presentable than a wet bathing suit, she went to hisoffice.
"What do you know about this?" he demanded in plain amazement. "This storythe old man gave me to read is a wonder! It is one of the best ideas Iever saw for the screen. Of course, it needs fixing up a bit, but it'sgreat! What did you think of it, Miss Ruth?"
"I am glad you like it, Mr. Hammond," she said, steadying her voice withdifficulty.
"I do like it, I assure you."
"It is _my_ story, Mr. Hammond!" she exclaimed. "It is the very scenariothat was stolen from me at home. He's just changed the names of thecharacters and given it a different title, and spoiled some of the scenes.But a large part of it is copied word for word from my manuscript!"
"Miss Fielding!" gasped the president of the Alectrion Film Corporation.
"I am telling you the truth," Ruth cried, rather wildly, it must beconfessed, and then she broke down and wept.
"My goodness! It can't be possible! You--you've let your mind dwell uponyour loss so much----"
"Do you think I am crazy?" she demanded, flaring up at him, her angerdrying her tears.
"Certainly not," he returned gently; yet he looked at her oddly. "Butmistakes have been made----"
"Mistakes, indeed! It is no mistake when I recognize my own work."
"But--but how could this old man have stolen your work--and away backthere at the Red Mill? I believe he has lived here on the Point foryears. At least, every summer."
"Then somebody else stole it and he got the script from them. I tell youit is mine!" cried Ruth.
"Miss Fielding! Let us be calm----"
"You would not be calm if you discovered somebody trying to make use ofsomething you had originated, and calling it theirs--no you wouldn't, Mr.Hammond!"
"But it seems impossible," he said weakly.
"That old man is an actor--an old-school actor. You can see that easilyenough," she declared. "There was such a person about the Red Mill the daymy script was lost. Oh, it's plain enough."
"Not so plain, Miss Ruth," said Mr. Hammond firmly. "And you must not makewild accusations. That will do no good--and may do harm in the end. Itdoes not seem probable to me that this old hermit could have actuallystolen your story. A longshore character like him----"
"He's not!" cried Ruth. "Don't you see that he is playing a part? He is nofisherman. No longshore character, as you call him, would be as afraid ofthe sea as he is. He is playing a part--and he plays it just as well asthe parts Mr. Hooley gives him to play."
"Jove! There may be something in that," murmured the manager.
"He got my script some way, I tell you!" declared Ruth. "I am not going tolet anybody maul my story and put it over as his own. No, sir!"
"But--but, Miss Ruth!" exclaimed Mr. Hammond. "How are you going to provewhat you say is true?"
"Prove it?"
"Yes. You see, the burden of proof must be on you."
"But--but don't you believe me?" she murmured.
"Does it matter what I believe?" he asked her gently. "Remember, this manhas entrusted me with a manuscript that he says is original. At least itis written in his own hand. I cannot go back of that unless you have somemeans of proof that his story is your story. Who did you tell about yourplot, and how you worked it out? Did you read the finished manuscript--orany part of it--to any person who can corroborate your statements?"
"Oh, Mr. Hammond!" she cried, with sudden anguish in her voice. "Not asoul! Never to a single, solitary person. The girls, nor Aunt Alvirah, norTom----"
She broke down again and he could not soothe her. She wept with abandon,and Mr. Hammond was really anxious for her. He went to the door, whistledfor one of the boys, and sent for Mrs. Paisley.
But Ruth recovered her composure--to a degree, at least--before themotherly old actress came.
"Don't tell anybody! Don't tell anybody!" she sobbed to Mr. Hammond. "Theywill think I am crazy! I haven't a word of proof. Only my word----"
"Against his," said the manager gravely. "I would accept your word, MissRuth, against the world! But we must have some proof before wedeliberately accuse this old man of robbing you."
"Yes, yes. I see. I will be patient--if I can."
"The thing to do is to find out who this hermit really is," said Mr.Hammond. "Through discovering his private history we may put our finger onthe thing that will aid you with proof. Good-night, my dear. Try to getcalm again."