Read Ruth Fielding in Moving Pictures; Or, Helping the Dormitory Fund Page 8


  CHAPTER VIII

  A NEW STAR

  Ruth had actually been trying her "prentice hand," as Mr. Hammond hadcalled it, at the production of a moving picture scenario. It was thefirst literary work she had ever achieved, although her taste in thatdirection had been noted by Mrs. Tellingham and the under-instructors ofthe school.

  Oh! she would not have had any of them know what she had done in secretsince arriving at the Hall at the beginning of this term. She would notlet even Helen know about it.

  "If it is a success--if Mr. Hammond produces it--_then_ I'll tell them,"Ruth said to herself. "But if he tells me it is no good, then nobody shallever know that I was so foolish as to attempt such a thing."

  Even after she had it all ready she hesitated some hours as to whether ornot she should send it to the address Mr. Hammond had given her. Thepamphlet he had promised to send her had not arrived, and Ruth had littleidea as to how a scenario should be prepared She had written much moreexplanatory matter than was necessary; but she had achieved one thing atleast--she had been direct in the composition of her scenario and she hadthe faculty of saying just what she meant, and that briefly. This concisestyle was of immense value to her, as Ruth was later to learn.

  Ruth managed to slip the big envelope addressed to Mr. Hammond into themailbag in the hall without spurring Helen's curiosity again. She had tochuckle to herself over it, for it really was a good joke on her chum.

  Unconsciously, Helen had given her the idea for this little allegoricalcomedy which she had written. And how her friend would laugh if thepicture of "Curiosity" should be produced and they should see it on thescreen.

  The girls crowded into the big dining room in an orderly manner, but withsome suppressed whispering and laughter on the part of the more gigglingkind. There were always some of the girls so full of spirits that theycould not be entirely repressed.

  The long tables quickly filled up. There were few beginners at this timeof year, for most of the new scholars came to Briarwood Hall at thecommencement of the autumn semester.

  There was one new girl at the table where Ruth and her particular friendssat, over which Miss Picolet the little teacher of French, had nominalcharge. Nowadays, Miss Picolet's life was an easy one. She had littletrouble with even the more boisterous girls of the West Dormitory, thanksto the Sweetbriars.

  The new pupil beside the French teacher was Amy Gregg. She was acolorless, flaxen-haired girl, with such light eyebrows and lashes thatHelen said her face looked like a blank wall.

  She was a nervous girl, too; she pouted a good deal and seemeddissatisfied. Of course, being a stranger, she was lonely as yet; butunder the rules of the Sweetbriars she was not hazed. The S.B.'s word hadbecome law in all such matters at Briarwood Hall.

  After they were seated, Heavy Stone whispered to Ruth: "Isn't that Gregggirl the most discontented looking thing you ever saw? Her face would sourcream right now! I hope she doesn't overlook my supper and give meindigestion."

  "Behave!" was Ruth's only comment.

  There was supposed to be silence until all were served and the teachersbegan eating. The waitresses bustled about, light-footed and demure. Mrs.Tellingham, who was present on this evening, overlooked all from the smallguest table, as it was called, placed at the head of the room on aslightly raised platform.

  Mrs. Tellingham, Ruth thought, was the loveliest lady in the world. Thegirl of the Red Mill had never lost the first impression the preceptresshad made upon her childish mind and heart when she had come to BriarwoodHall.

  At last--just in time to save Heavy's life, it would seem--Miss Picoletlifted her fork and the girls began to eat. A pleasant interchange ofconversation broke out:

  "Did you hear what that funny little Pease girl said to Miss Brokaw inphysiology class yesterday?" asked Lluella Fairfax, who was across thetable from Ruth.

  "No. What has the child said now? She's a queer little thing," Helen said,before her chum could answer.

  "She's rather dense, don't you know," put in Lluella's chum, BelleTingley.

  "I'm not so sure of _that_," laughed Lluella. "Miss Brokaw becameimpatient with little Pease and said:

  "'It seems you are never able to answer a question, Mary; why is it?'

  "'If I knew all the things you ask me, Miss Brokaw,' said Pease, 'mymother wouldn't take the trouble to send me here.'"

  "I'm sure _that_ doesn't prove the poor little kiddie a dunce," laughedRuth.

  "Say! we have a dense one at this very table," hissed Heavy, a hand besideher mouth so that the sound of her whisper would not travel to the headof the table where Miss Picolet and the sullen looking new girl sat.

  "What do you mean?" asked Belle, curiously.

  "_Whom_ do you mean?" added Helen.

  "That infant yonder," hissed the fleshy girl.

  "What about her?" Ruth asked. "I'm rather sorry for that little Gregg. Shedoesn't look happy."

  "Say!" chuckled Heavy. "She tried for an hour yesterday to coaxelectricity into the bulb over her table, and then went to Miss Scrimp andasked for a candle. She got the candle, and burned it until one of theother girls looked in (you know she's not 'chummed' with anybody yet) andshowed her where the push-button was in the wall. And at that," finishedHeavy, grinning broadly, "I'm not sure that she understood how the 'juice'was turned on. She must have come from the backwoods."

  "Hush!" begged Ruth. "Don't let her think we're laughing at her."

  "Miss Scrimp's very strict about candles and oil lamps," said Nettie. "Weuse them a lot in the South."

  "That old house of yours in 'So'th Ca'lina' must be a funny old place,Nettie," said Heavy.

  "It isn't ours," Nettie said. "The cotton plantation belongs to AuntRachel. She was born on it--the Merredith Place. We usually go there forthe early summer, and then either come No'th, or into the mountains ofVirginia until cool weather. My own dear old Louisiana home isn'tconsidered healthy for us during the extreme hot weather. It is too dampand marshy."

  "'Way down Souf in de land ob cotton-- Cinnamon seed an' sandy bottom!'"

  hummed Heavy. "Oh! I wish I was in Dixie--right now."

  "Wait till my Aunt Rachel comes up here," Nettie promised. "I'm going tobeg an invitation for you girls to visit Merredith."

  "But it will be hot weather, then," said Heavy; "and I don't want to missLight-house Point."

  "And I'm just about crazy to get back to Silver Ranch," said Ann Hicks.

  "Me for Cliff Island," cried Belle Tingley. "No land of cotton for mine,this summer."

  "When is your aunt coming, Nettie?" asked Ruth.

  "To see you graduate, my dear," replied the Southern girl, smiling. "Andwait till she meets you, Ruthie Fielding! She'll near about love you todeath!"

  "Oh, everybody loves Ruth. Why shouldn't they?" cried Belle.

  "But everybody doesn't give her a fortune, as Nettie's Aunt Rachel did,"laughed Heavy.

  Ruth wished they would not talk so much about that money; but, of course,she could not stop them. She made no rejoinder, but looked across the roomand out at the upper pane of one of the long windows. It was deep dusk nowwithout. The evening was clear, with a rising wind moaning through thetrees on the campus.

  Tony Foyle, the old gardener and general handy man, was only now lightingthe lamps along the walks.

  "There's a funny red star," Ruth said to Helen. "It can't be that Mars isrising _there_."

  "Where?" queried her chum, lazily, scarcely raising her eyes to look.Helen was not interested in astronomy.

  Nobody else was attracted by the red spark Ruth saw. Against the dusky skyit grew swiftly A new star----

  "It is fire!" gasped Ruth, softly, rising on trembling limbs. "_And it isin the West Dormitory_!"