The thought that Charlie Reid might even at that minute be spying upon her was so distasteful to Ruth that she made some excuse to Tom and hurried below to the cabin that she was to share with Helen.
It was a comfortable stateroom, for the steamer was a large one and boasted every modern convenience and comfort, but at the moment it seemed like a prison to Ruth.
She managed to shake off the unpleasant thought and replied to Helen’s cheery greeting in kind.
That young person had kicked off her shoes and was luxuriously reclining on the bed reading a book she had purchased in Seattle. Beside her on a chair within easy reach of her groping fingers was a two-pound box of chocolates.
For just a moment Ruth thought that it would be nice to be like Helen, relieved of all responsibilities and free to enjoy herself to her heart’s content.
But even while she thought it Ruth knew that responsibility, excitement, and the thrill of outwitting an enemy and overcoming obstacles had become the breath of life to her and that she could never again be completely content without them.
“Hello, Ruth, you bold, bad adventurer,” Helen greeted her flippantly. “Come here and share my couch and candy and tell me how the world goes with you.”
“I’ll share the candy but not the couch,” Ruth laughed. “I have work to do.”
“That is the chief—I might say, only—trouble with you, Ruth Fielding,” complained her chum. “You always have so much work to do that you make me feel like the proverbial sluggard.”
“Well, that’s just what you are,” said Ruth indulgently. “But I wouldn’t have you change for the world. Why, it rests me just to look at you!”