CHAPTER II
A RIFT IN HIS LUTE
Tom Cameron, no matter how desirous he might be of saving Ruth from hurt,could not possibly have got around the table in time. With a snarling,ripping noise the heavy patch of plaster tore away from the ceiling andfell directly upon the spot where the chairs of Ruth and Chess Copley hadbeen placed!
The screams of the startled girls almost drowned the noise of theplaster's fall, but Ruth Fielding did not join in the outcry.
With one movement, it seemed, Copley had risen and kicked his own chairaway, seized Ruth about her waist as he did so, and so dragged her outfrom under the avalanche.
It was all over in a moment, and the two stood, clinging to each otherinvoluntarily, while the dust of the fallen plaster spread around them.
For a moment Ruth Fielding had been in as perilous a situation as she hadever experienced, and her life had been rather full of peril andadventure since, as a girl of twelve, and in the first volume of thisseries, we met her as "Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill."
At the time just mentioned, the orphaned Ruth had appeared at hergreat-uncle's mill on the Lumano River, near Cheslow, in one of the NewEngland States, and had been taken in by the miserly old miller ratherunder protest. But Aunt Alvirah Boggs, who was Uncle Jabez Potter'shousekeeper, had loved the child from the very beginning. And in truththe old miller loved Ruth too, only he was slow to admit it.
Ruth's first young friends at the Red Mill were the Cameron twins, andwith Helen she had spent her schools days and many of her vacations, atBriarwood Hall, in the North Woods, at the seashore, in the West, in theSouth, Down East, and in other localities, the narrated adventures ofwhich are to be found in the several volumes of the Ruth Fielding Series.
In the book just preceding this present story, "Ruth Fielding in theGreat Northwest," Helen was likewise with Ruth when she made her famousmoving picture, "Brighteyes" in connection with the Alectrion FilmCorporation, the president of which, Mr. Hammond, had first encouragedRuth to turn her entire time and talent to the writing of moving picturescenarios.
The fall before the time of this wedding party in which the girl of theRed Mill was taking part, fortune threw in Ruth's way a charming youngwoman, a full-blood Osage Indian, in whom Mr. Hammond saw possibilitiesof development for screen acting. At least, to use the trite andbombastic moving picture phrase, Wonota, the Indian princess,"photographed like a million dollars."
The Great War's abrupt conclusion brought Tom Cameron home just as eageras he had been for two years past to have Ruth agree to his plans for thefuture. As Ruth saw it (no matter what may have been her secret feelingfor Tom) to do as Tom wished would utterly spoil the career on which shehad now entered so successfully.
Tom, like most young men in love, considered that a girl's only careershould be a husband and a home. He frankly said that he was prepared,young as he was, to supply both for Ruth.
But their youth, in the first place, was an objection in the verysensible mind of Ruth. It was true, too, that a second objection was thefact that she wanted to live her own life and establish herself in thegreat career she had got into almost by chance.
And then too Tom himself, since his return from France, had shown littledetermination to settle himself at work. Being the son of a wealthymerchant and possessing, now that he was of age, a fortune in his ownright inherited from his mother's estate, Tom Cameron, it seemed to Ruth,was just playing with life.
Like many another young fellow so recently from the battlefield, itseemed as if he could not settle to anything. And his sister encouragedhim in this attitude. Ruth secretly blamed Helen for this. And thereforeher own attitude to Tom had grown more stern.
It was now June--the June following the armistice--the loveliest and mostaccepted time for a bridal. The ceremony of Jennie Stone's wedding toMajor Henri Marchand had passed off, as we have seen, very smoothly. EvenTom, as best man, had found the ring at the right moment, and nobody hadstepped on Jennie's train.
But this accident at the breakfast table--and an accident that might haveresulted fatally for Ruth Fielding--threatened to cause not onlyexcitement but to sober the whole party.
In a moment, however, in spite of the dust rising from the brokenplaster, the others saw that Ruth and Chess Copley were both safe. Thelatter was repeating, over and over and in much anxiety:
"You are all right, Ruth! I've got you. You are all right."
The girl herself was quite breathless. Copley held her in rather a closeembrace, and for a much longer time than appeared necessary--to TomCameron at least. Tom had got around the table just too late to be of anyassistance.
"We see you've got her, 'Lasses," Tom observed, rather tartly. "Theclose-up is shot. Break away."
His words started the laughter--and there was much relief expressed inthe laughter in which all about the table joined. People are apt to laughwhen serious danger is over. But it might have been observed by hisfriends at another time that Tom Cameron was not usually tart or unkindof speech.
Ruth said nothing, and Chess Copley flushed hotly. Jennie had got up withHenri in the moment of excitement, and now she quickly seized her gobletof grape-juice in which the party had previously toasted the bride andgroom, and raised the glass on high.
"Hear! Hear!" cried Ann Hicks. "The bride speaks."
"This is a good omen," declared Jennie clinging to Henri's arm. "Our Ruthwas wounded in France and has been in danger on many occasions, as we allknow. Never has she more gracefully escaped disaster, nor been aided by amore chivalrous cavalier. Drink! Drink to Ruth Fielding and to ChessleighCopley! They are two very lucky people, for that ceiling might havecracked their crowns."
They drank the toast--most of them with much laughter.
"Some orator, Jennie," commented Helen. "We are just beginning toappreciate you."
"You will all be sorry that you did not treat me better--especially as achee-ild," returned the plump bride, with mock solemnity. "Think! Thinkhow you all used to abuse my--my appetite at Briarwood Hall. It is onlyMammy Rose who is kind to me," and she pointed to the old colored woman'sgift that had a place of honor before her own plate and that of MajorMarchand's.
"Let me give a toast," cried Helen gaily. "Let us drink to Jennie'sappetite--long may it wave."
"Goodness me! Don't speak of waves and appetite in the same breath, Ibeg. Remember we are going directly aboard ship from the house and--and Inever was a good sailor. Waves! Ugh!"
The fun went on while the serving people swept up the debris and removedthose dishes that had been covered with dust.
Aside, Ruth, taking for the moment little part in the chatter andmerriment, for she had received a considerable shock, stood talking withCopley. Ruth had given him her hand again and Chess clung to it rathermore warmly--so the watchful Tom thought--than was needful. But the girlfelt that she really had a great deal to thank Copley for.
"Jennie in her fun spoke quite truly," Ruth said in a low voice. "You area friend in need."
"And I hope you consider me a friend indeed, Ruth," rejoined the youngfellow.
"I certainly do," agreed the girl of the Red Mill with her customaryfrank smile.
"I--I am afraid," Chess added, "that I am not considered in that light byall your friends, Ruth. Helen Cameron hasn't spoken to me to-day."
"No? Is it serious?"
"It is serious when a fellow gets turned down--snubbed--and not a word ofexplanation offered. And, in the words of the old song, we were'companions once, but strangers now'."
"Oh, don't mind. Helen usually gets over the mollygrubs very quickly."
Chess turned to see the other Cameron twin eyeing him with no greatfavor.
However, the throng of guests who were invited to the reception begancoming in, and for the next two hours the parlors were crowded with themany friends of the plump girl, who, as Helen had said, found this thegreatest day of her life, and there was little time for much individualchat, though, it seemed to Tom, Chess Copley kept as close as pos
sible toRuth's side.
It was after Jennie had gone to put on her traveling dress, and theimmediate wedding party, who were to accompany the bridal couple to thedock to see them embark, were hurrying out of the room to put on streetclothes that Tom, in a low voice, demanded of Chess:
"What are you trying to do--put a label on Ruth? Don't forget she belongsto all of us."
Chess Copley had not won his commission in the war and wore only asergeant's chevrons. But the war was over and he could tell his captainjust what he thought of him. And he did.
"Do you know what you are, Tom Cameron?" he drawled, smiling a hardlittle smile. "You are a regular dog in the manger, and I'm frank to tellyou so!"