CHAPTER X
RUTH SEES SOMETHING
The mystery of the vanishing kittens cast a cloud of gloom over theminds of the younger Corner House girls. Besides, it had rained in thenight and was still raining after breakfast. It was a dull, gloomyday.
"Just a nice day for us to start cleaning the garret," Ruth said,trying to put cheer into the hearts of her sisters. "Only Mr.Howbridge, who has been away, has written me to come to his officethis forenoon. He wants to arrange about several matters, he says.I'll have to go and we'll postpone the garret rummage till I getback."
"Poor Sandy's all wet and muddy," said Dot, who could not get hertroubled mind off the cat family. "Just as though _she'd_ been out inthe rain. But I don't see how that could be. She's washing up now bythe kitchen stove."
They had brought the mother cat and Spotty into the kitchen forsafety. Uncle Rufus shook his head over the mysterious disappearanceof Petl, Almira and Bungle, too; whispering to Mrs. McCall:
"Do look for sho' as though rats had got dem kittins. Dunno whatelse."
"For goodness sake, don't tell me there are rats here, Uncle Rufus!"exclaimed the widow, anxiously. "I couldn't sleep in my bed nights."
"Dunno whar you'd sleep safer, Mis' McCall, ter git away from 'em,"chuckled the old colored man. "But I exemplifies de fac' dat I ain'tseed none ob dere tracks."
Occasionally Uncle Rufus "threw in a word" in conversation whichsounded euphonious in his own ears, but had little to do with the realmeaning of his speech.
Nobody whispered "rats" to the little girls; and Tess and Dot scarcelylet Sandy and the remaining kitten out of their sight. It was a windy,storm-stricken day, and they took the mother cat and Spotty up to AuntSarah's room to play.
Ruth put on her rain-coat, seized an umbrella, and ventured forth. Sheknew she could find her way to Mr. Howbridge's office, down town,although she had never visited it before.
The lawyer was very glad to see the oldest Corner House girl, and toldher so. "I am hearing some good reports of you, Miss Kenway," he said,smiling at her in his odd way, and with his keen eyes looking sharplyover the high bridge of his nose, as though he were gazing deep intoRuth's mind.
"Some of these Milton people think that you girls need closer watchingthan you are getting. So they say. What do you think? Do you feel theneed of a sterner guardian?"
"I think you are a very nice guardian," admitted Ruth, shyly. "And weare having awfully nice times up there at the old Corner House, Mr.Howbridge. I hope we are not spending too much money?"
He put on his eyeglasses again and scanned the totals of the storebills and other memoranda she had brought him. He shook his head andsmiled again:
"I believe you are a born housekeeper. Of course, I knew that Mrs.McCall wouldn't let you go far wrong. But I see no evidence of a lackof economy on your part. And now, we must see about your spending somemore money, Miss Kenway."
"Oh! it seems like a lot to me," said Ruth, faintly. "And--and I musttell you something perhaps you won't like. We--we have an addition tothe family."
"How's that?" he asked, in surprise.
"We--we have Uncle Rufus," explained Ruth.
"What! has that old darkey come bothering you?"
"Oh! he isn't a bother. Not at all. I thought he was too old to domuch, but he is _so_ handy--and he finds so many little things to do.And then----Why, Mr. Howbridge! it's just like home to him."
"Ha! Undoubtedly. And so he told you? Worked on your feelings? You aregoing to have the whole family on you, next. You will have more wagesto pay out than the estate will stand."
"Dear me, sir!" cried Ruth. "Don't say that. I am not paying UncleRufus a penny. I told him I couldn't--until I had seen you about it,at least. And he is willing to stay anyhow--so he says."
"I don't know about that old darkey," said Mr. Howbridge, slowly. "Ibelieve he knew more about Mr. Peter Stower's private affairs than heseemed willing to tell the time I talked to him after your UnclePeter's death. I don't know about your keeping him there."
"Do you think he may know where Uncle Peter hid his private papers,sir?" asked Ruth, eagerly.
"Yes, I do. He's an ignorant old negro. He might get the papers intohis hands, and the will might be lost forever."
"Oh, sir!" cried Ruth, earnestly, "I don't think Uncle Rufus is at alldishonest. I asked him about Uncle Peter's hiding away things. Heknows what folks say about uncle's being a miser."
"Well?" said Mr. Howbridge, questioningly.
"Uncle Rufus says he knows his old master was that way. Aunt Sarahsays Uncle Peter was just like a magpie--that he hid away thingswithout any real reason for it."
"Ha! Miss Maltby was not fond of Mr. Peter Stower. They did not getalong well together."
"No, sir. I fancy not. And of course, Aunt Sarah doesn't say much,anyway. She is real hurt to think that he did not leave her the houseand money instead of leaving it to us," and Ruth sighed.
"Oh, he left her enough in his will to keep her in comfort for theremainder of her life. She need not be envious," said the lawyer,carelessly.
"Well," sighed Ruth, "that isn't what Aunt Sarah wanted. She feels sheought to own the house. But we can't help that, can we!"
"No. Do not worry about your Aunt Sarah's fidgets," said the lawyer,smiling once more. "But about Uncle Rufus?"
Ruth had opened her bag, and now drew forth the scrap of paper UncleRufus had given her. "Who do you think wrote that, sir?" she asked Mr.Howbridge, simply.
The moment the lawyer saw it he scowled. Staring at the paper fixedlyfor some moments in silence, he finally asked:
"When did the old darkey say he was given this?"
"The day before Uncle Peter died. He said the poor old gentlemancouldn't talk, then, but he managed to write that line. _Is_ it UnclePeter's handwriting?"
"It certainly is. Shaky, but plainly Mr. Stower's own hand."
"Oh, sir! let us keep Uncle Rufus, then," begged Ruth, quickly.
"But you understand, Miss Kenway, that this request, unsigned as itis, hasn't an iota of legal weight?"
"I don't care!" said Ruth.
"Why didn't the old man show it to me?"
"He was keeping it to show to the relatives of Uncle Peter who, heexpected, would have the old Corner House."
"Ha! and he was afraid of the lawyer, I suppose?"
"You--you were not very sympathetic, were you?" said Ruth, slowly.
"Right! I wasn't. I could not be. I did not see my way clear to makingany provision for Uncle Rufus, for I knew very well that Mr. Stowerhad not mentioned the old serving man in his will."
"Well--you'll let us keep him?"
"If you like. I'll see that he has a little money every month, too.And now I must not give you much more time to-day, my dear. But I wishto put this envelope into your hand. In it you will find the amount ofmoney which I consider wise for each of you girls to spendmonthly--your allowance, I mean.
"Such dresses as you need, will be paid for separately. You will findthat a charge account has been opened for you at this store," and hepassed the surprised Ruth the business card of the largest departmentstore in town. "But buy wisely. If you spend too much, be sure youwill hear from me. The monthly allowance is pin-money. Squander it asyou please without accounting to me--only to your own consciences,"and he laughed and rose to show her out of his private office.
Ruth thanked him and slipped the bulky envelope into her bag. Shecould not open it there, or on the street, and she hurried homeward,eager to see just what Mr. Howbridge considered a proper allowance forthe Corner House Girls to "squander."
The east wind was tearing across the parade ground and the treesoverhead, as Ruth started over the big common, writhed in the clutchof it. The rain came in fitful dashes. The girl sheltered herself asbest she could with the umbrella.
Such gusts are hard to judge, however. Although she clung to theumbrella with both hands, one savage squall swept down upon RuthKenway and fairly snatched the umbrella from her grasp. It whirled
away over the wet lawn, and turned inside out!
"No use chasing _that_ thing," said Ruth, in disgust. "It's pastrepairing. I'll just have to face it."
She hurried on, her head bowed before the slanting rain. She came tothe Willow Street crossing and glanced up at the old Corner House. Notonly could she see the great, frowning front of the mansion, with itsfour huge pillars, but she could view, too, the side next to WillowStreet.
Nobody was looking out of the windows on the watch for her, that shecould see. The parlors were on this side of the main building, and thegirls did not use them. Above, on the second floor, were the sleepingroom and library in which Uncle Peter had spent the last years of hislife.
Above those blind windows was another row of windows on the thirdfloor, with the shades pulled down tightly. And then, above those, inthe peak of the roof, were several small garret windows.
"That's where that girl said the ghost came and looked out," Ruth saidaloud, stopping suddenly.
And just at that identical moment the ghost _did_ look out!
Ruth saw it. Only for a moment, but just as plain as plain could be! Awhite, fluttering figure--a sort of faceless figure with what seemedto be long garments fluttering about it.
Nobody ever has to see a ghost to know just what one looks like.People who see ghosts recognize their appearance by intuition. Thiswas the garret ghost of the old Corner House, and Ruth was the firstof the Kenway girls to see it.
She had made fun of Agnes' belief in things supernatural, but shecould not control the shaking of her own limbs now. It was visible upthere at the garret window for only half a minute; yet Ruth knew itwas no hallucination.
It disappeared with a jump. She did not wait to see if it came backagain, but scurried across the street and in at the side gate, and soto the back porch, with scarcely a breath left in her body.
Ruth was just as scared as she could be.