“But it really amounts to nothing, dear,” her chum said doubtfully. “It seems a pity to waste your brain and perfectly splendid ideas for organization and the like in such a position.”
“Fiddle-de-dee!” ejaculated Ruth, quoting Uncle Jabez. “Nobody has yet appreciated my ‘perfectly splendid ideas of organization,’” and she repeated the phrase with some scorn, “so I would better put forward some of my more simple talents. I have a good head for figures, I can letter packages, I can even stick stamps on letters and do other office work. My capabilities will not be strained. And, then,” she added, “I feel that in State Headquarters I may be in a better position to ‘grab off’ something really worth while.”
“‘Johannah on the spot,’ as it were?” said Helen. “But you’ll have to go down there to live, Ruthie.”
“The Y. W. C. A. will take me in, I am sure,” declared her friend. “I am not afraid of being alone in a great city—at my age and with my experience!”
She telephoned to Robinsburg and was told to come on. Naturally, by this time, the heads of the State Red Cross, at least, knew who Ruth Fielding was.
But every girl who had raised a large sum of money for the cause was not suited to such work as was waiting for her at headquarters. She knew that she must prove her fitness.
Helen took her over in the car the next morning and was inclined to be tearful when they separated.
“Just does seem as though I couldn’t get on without you, Ruthie!” she cried.
“Why, you are worse than poor Aunt Alvirah! Every time I go away from home she acts as though I might never come back again. And as for you, Helen Cameron, you have plenty to do. You have my share of Red Cross work in Cheslow to do as well as your own. Don’t forget that.”
Headquarters was a busy place. The very things Ruth told Helen she could do, she did do—and a multitude besides. Everything was systematized, and the work went on in a businesslike manner. Everybody was working hard and unselfishly.