Ruth Fielding Down in Dixie; Or, Great Times in the Land of Cotton

by Alice B. Emerson

They went upstairs, Norma, the little maid, keeping close to them. Helen declared the negress was so scared that she was gray in the face.

They heard a group of men talking on the stairs. They were discussing the pros and cons of the situation. Nobody seemed to have any idea as to what should be done. A more helpless lot of people Ruth Fielding thought she had never seen before.

But after all, the girls from the North did not understand the situation exactly. There was nothing one could do to stop the rising flood. There were no means of transporting the people from the island to the higher land across the narrow creek. And all around the hotel, save at the back, the water was shoulder deep.

The rough current and the floating debris made venturing into the water a dangerous thing, as well. The fire next door could not be put out; so there seemed nothing to do but to wait for what might happen.

This policy of waiting for what might turn up did not suit Ruth Fielding, of course. But there was nothing she could do just then to change matters for the better. The suggestion she had made about packing the bags was more to give her friends something to do, and so take their minds off the peril they were in, than aught else.

There were other people on the second floor, and as the girls went into their rooms they heard somebody talking loudly at the other end of the hall. At the moment they paid no attention to this excited female voice.

Ruth set the example of immediately returning her few possessions to her bag and preparing to leave the room at once. Her chum was ready almost as soon; but they had to help Nettie and the maid. The former did not know what to do, and the frightened Norma was perfectly useless.

“I declare! I won’t take this useless child with me anywhere again,” said Nettie. “Goodness me!” she continued, pettishly, to the shaking maid, “have you stolen the silver spoons that your conscience troubles you so?”

But nothing could make Norma look upon the situation less seriously. When the girls came out of the door into the hall, bags in hand, Ruth was first. Immediately the high, querulous voice broke upon their ears again, and now the girls from the North recognized it.

“There! they’ve been in one of your rooms!” cried the sharp voice of Miss Miggs. “You’d better go and search ’em and see what they’ve stolen now.”