CHAPTER III
RICE AND OLD SHOES
"It is the greatest day in a girl's life," declared Helen Cameron,sitting on the edge of one of the twin beds in the room she and Ruthoccupied while they were at the Stone house. She buckled her fingersaround her knee to hold one limb crossed over the other--a very mannishand independent position. "I don't know that I ever envied Heavy beforein my life. But she has got something now that we haven't, Ruth."
"Cat's foot!" exclaimed Ann Hicks from her chair. "Who'd want a Frenchmanfor a husband?"
Ruth laughed. "Not to say that Major Marchand is not a fine fellow, Iagree with Ann that I don't want a husband. Not--right--now!"
"Oh! Very well," said Helen complacently. "But if you thought you'd neverbe able to get one----"
"Shucks!" exclaimed Ann. "As though our Ruth couldn't have all she wantsif she wants them."
"I really wish you would not speak plurally of them, Ann," cried Ruth,laughing. "You will make me feel like the Queen of the Amazons. They sayshe keeps a masculine harem--like a bey, or a sultan, or something ofthat kind."
"Be serious," rejoined Helen. "I mean what I say. Jennie's great day hasarrived. And she is the first of all our old bunch that went toBriarwood--and surely of those who went to Ardmore College--to fetterherself to a man for life."
"Well, I shall never be fettered, even if I am married," observed Ann."I'd like to see myself!"
"If the right man comes riding by, Ann, even you will change your mind,"Ruth said softly.
"Then I suppose the right man has never ridden up to the Red Mill andasked for you?" demanded Helen, with a glance at her chum that was ratherpiercing.
"Perhaps he has," said Ruth composedly, "but I wasn't at home. AuntAlvirah thinks I am almost never at home. And, girls, as I told youyesterday, I am going soon on another journey."
"Oh, Ruth, I've been thinking of that!" Helen rejoined, with a suddenaccess of interest and excitement. "To the Thousand Islands! And at theloveliest time of all the year up there."
"And that is only the truth," said one of the other bridesmaids. "Wespent last summer there."
"The Copleys always go," Helen remarked quietly.
"No! Do you mean it?" cried Ruth, showing some surprise. "Well, indeed."
"So you will see a lot more of 'Lasses Copley," remarked Ann.
"I shall be glad if Chess Copley is there when and where we make thispicture, for I think he is very nice," was Ruth's composed reply.
"Oh, he's nice enough," agreed Helen, rather grumblingly however. "I'vegot nothing to say against Chess--as a general thing."
"And you don't seem to say much for him," put in the Western girlcuriously.
But Helen said nothing further on that topic. Ruth broke in, answeringone of the other girls who spoke of the forthcoming picture Ruth wasgoing to make for the Alectrion Corporation.
"Of course our famous Wonota is going to be in the picture. For she isfamous already. 'Brighteyes' appeared for two successive weeks in one ofthe big Broadway picture houses and we are making a lot of money out ofits distribution.
"But we know Wonota is a find for another very unmistakable reason," sheadded.
"What is that?" asked Helen.
"Other producers have begun to make Wonota and her father offers. ForChief Totantora has become interested in the movie business too. Mr.Hammond used Totantora in a picture he made in Oklahoma in the spring;one in which Wonota did not appear. She was off at school at the time. Weare going to make of the princess a cultivated and cultured young ladybefore we get through with her," and Ruth laughed.
"A Red Indian!" cried somebody.
"That makes no difference," said Ruth placidly. "She is amenable to whitecustoms, and is really a very smart girl. And she has a lovelydisposition."
"Especially," put in Helen, who remembered the occasion clearly, "whenshe wanted to shoot Dakota Joe Fenbrook when he treated her so unkindlyin his Wild West show. But, I wanted to shoot him myself," she added,frankly. "Especially after he tried to hurt Ruth."
"Never mind him," said her chum at that. "Joe Fenbrook is in thepenitentiary now, and he is not bothering us. But other people arebothering Mr. Hammond about Wonota."
"How?" asked Helen.
"Why, as I said, there are other picture producers who have seen'Brighteyes' and would like to get the chief and his daughter undercontract. They have told Totantora that, as the contract with hisdaughter was made while she was not of age, it can be broken. Of course,the Indian agent agreed to the contract; but after Totantora returnedfrom Europe, where he had been held a prisoner in Germany during the war,the guardianship of Wonota reverted to her father once more.
"It is rather a complicated matter," went on Ruth, "and it is giving Mr.Hammond and his lawyers some trouble. There is a man named Bilby, who hasbeen a picture producer in a small way, who seems to have some influencewith the head of the Government Bureau of Indian Affairs. He seems tohave financial backing, too, and claims to have secured a series ofstories in which Wonota might be featured to advantage. And he certainlyhas offered Totantora and the girl much more money than Mr. Hammond wouldbe willing to risk in a star who may, after all, prove merely a flash inthe pan."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Ann. "I thought she was a sure-firehit."
"No amateur screen actress--and that is all Wonota is as yet--is ever a'sure-fire hit', as you call it," said the practical Ruth. "Many aproducer has been badly bitten by tying up a new actor or actress to along-time contract. Because a girl films well and is successful in onepart, is not an assurance that she can learn to be a really great actressbefore the camera.
"In 'Brighteyes' Wonota merely played herself. I was successful infitting my story to her individuality. But she cannot always play thesame part. In this story we are about to do on the St. Lawrence, she willbe called upon to delineate a character quite different from that of theheroine of 'Brighteyes.'"
"Dear me, Ruth," sighed Helen, "what a business woman you are getting tobe. Your career has really begun--and so promisingly. While I can't do athing but play the fiddle a little, daub a little at batik, and crochet!"
"And make most delightful fudge!" cried Jennie Stone, just then cominginto the room in her traveling dress, fresh from the hands of her maidand Aunt Kate. "How do I look, girls?"
The bride's appearance drove everything else out of her friends' mindsfor the time being. It was two o'clock and the automobiles were at thedoor. The bridal couple, attended by bridesmaids, the best man, theushers, and other close friends, departed for the dock amid showers ofrice and a bombardment of old shoes which littered Madison Avenue forhalf a block and kept even the policemen on special duty for theoccasion, dodging!
They all trooped aboard the steamship where arrangements had been made tohave the passports of the bride and groom examined.
Mr. Stone had done everything well, as he always did. The bridal suitewas banked with flowers. Even the orchestra belonging to the ship hadbeen engaged specially to play. A second, though brief, reception washeld here.
The ship's siren sent a stuttering blast into the air that seemed toshake the skyscrapers opposite the dock. The young folks trooped back tothe pier. Tom did his best to escort Ruth; but to his amazement and angerChess Copley pushed in front of him and Ruth took the sergeant's arm.
Helen came along and grabbed her brother with a fierce little pinch. Hereyes sparkled while his smouldered.
"I guess we are relegated to the second row, Tommy-boy," she whispered."I do not see what has got into Ruth."
"It's not Ruth. The gall of that 'Lasses!" muttered the slangy Tom.
"So you think he is at fault?" rejoined his sister. "Oh, Tommy-boy! youdo not know 'us girls'--no indeed you do not."
It was a gay enough party on the dock that watched the big ship back outand being turned in the stream by the fussy tugs. The bride and groomshouted until they were hoarse, and waved their hands and handkerchiefsas long as they could be seen from the dock.
; If Helen and Tom Cameron were either, or both, offended by Ruth, they didnot show it to the general company. As for the girl of the Red Mill, sheenjoyed herself immensely; and she particularly liked Chess Copley'scompany.
It was not that she felt any less kindly toward Tom; but Tom haddisappointed her. He seemed to have changed greatly during this pastwinter while she had been so busy with her moving pictures.
Instead of settling down with his father in the offices of the greatdrygoods house from which Mr. Cameron's fortune had come, Tom, abetted byHelen, had become almost a social butterfly in New York.
But Chess Copley, although no sober-sides, had thrown himself heart andsoul into the real estate business and had already made a tidy sum duringthe six months that had ensued since his discharge from the army.
It was true, Chess was looking forward to taking a vacation at theThousand Islands with his family. He told Ruth so with enthusiasm, andhoped to see her again at that resort. But Chess, Ruth felt, had earnedhis vacation, while Tom remained a mere idler.
Chess accompanied the Cheslow young people to the Grand Central Terminalwhen they left the dock and there bade Ruth good-bye.
"I shall see you in a fortnight at the Thousand Islands," he assured her,and shook hands again. "I shall look forward to it, believe me!"
Tom hung about, gloomy enough, even after they boarded the train. But thegirls were gay and chattering when they entered their compartment. AnnHicks was going home with Helen for a brief visit, although she would beunable to go elsewhere with them during the early part of the summer,owing to previous engagements.
"I am determined to go to the St. Lawrence with you, Ruth," declaredHelen. "And I know Tommy-boy is aching to go."
"I thought," said Ruth rather gravely, "that he might really take tobusiness this summer. Doesn't your father need him?"
"Plenty of time for work, Tommy thinks," rejoined Tom's sister gaily.
But Ruth did not smile.