“You’re an awful-talking girl,” sighed Ruth, as the old horse jogged on. “I wish I could get him to go back to his grandmother—and go back to show the people up there that he is innocent.”
“That does all very well to talk about, Ruth Fielding!” cried Helen. “But suppose he can’t prove himself innocent? Do you want the poor boy to go to jail and stay there the rest of his life?”
CHAPTER IX—SUNSHINE AT THE GATEHOUSE
The shower was over when Unc’ Simmy stopped before the hotel veranda. The two girls were rather bedraggled in appearance; but what would Miss Miggs look like when she arrived!
“I hope we won’t see that mean thing any more,” Helen declared. “She is our Nemesis, I do believe.”
“Don’t let her worry you. She surely punished herself this time,” said Ruth, getting down. “Good-bye Unc’ Simmy. Come for us again to-morrow—only I hope it won’t rain.”
“Ya-as’m! ya-as’m! T’ankee ma’am!” responded the darkey, and when Helen had likewise alighted, he rattled away.
“Goodness!” laughed Helen. “Are you so much in love with that old outfit that you want to ride in it again, Ruthie Fielding?”
“I want to see Miss Catalpa again—don’t you?” returned her chum. “And I would not go to the gatehouse with anybody but Unc’ Simmy. It would be impudent to do so.”
“Oh—yes! that’s so,” admitted Helen. “Come on to luncheon. I have Heavy Stone’s appetite, right now!”