When they were, as he thought, out of hearing, he gave vent to several grunts, kicked a pebble across the road, and scowled ferociously. He said something about “these rubes are smarter than they used to be.” He seemed convinced that he could do nothing further in the matter he had come upon. Not at this time, it was quite plain.
He turned and climbed into the roadster. But he did not drive back toward Cheslow; instead he went up the river road, and Ruth Fielding remembered that Wonota’s father was stopping at the country inn which was only three or four miles up that road.
“But nothing can happen because of that, of course,” the girl thought, as she entered the passage that led to the farmhouse from the mill. “Wonota is perfectly safe here, and surely Totantora can take care of himself with that little fat man, or with anybody else!”
She entered the kitchen expecting to find the Indian girl at work with Aunt Alvirah in the old woman’s sunny corner of the great room. The old woman was alone, however.
“Where is Wonota?” Ruth asked.
Before Aunt Alvirah could reply an automobile siren echoed outside of the house. Aunt Alvirah was smiling and waving at somebody and Ruth hurried to the window to look out.
“Here’s Helen come for you, my pretty, in that beautiful big car of hers,” said Aunt Alvirah. “Isn’t it fine to be rich?”
“Wait till I make a few more pictures, Aunty, and we’ll have a car too. If Uncle Jabez won’t buy one, I’ve made up my mind to get a car if it’s only to take you to drive once in a while.”
“It wouldn’t hurt Jabez Potter to buy a car,” declared the old woman. “She’s coming in Ruthie. Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!” she murmured, as she got up to receive the visitor.
Helen swept into the house gaily. She always had a kiss for the little old woman who thought her, next to Ruth, the finest girl who ever lived.