But Ruth, at least, did not go to sleep at once. In her bosom she carried the letter she had received from Luke, and this she now read carefully, twice.
Luke was doing well at the summer hotel. The proprietor was sick, so he and the head clerk and a night man had their hands full. He was earning good money, and part of this he was going to spend on his education and the rest he intended to save. He was sorry he could not be with the houseboat party and hoped they would all have a good time. Then he added a page or more intended only for Ruth’s eyes. The letter made the oldest Corner House girl very happy.
Soon after breakfast the next morning they were under way again. The circus had left town in the night, and Neale did not know when he would see his uncle again. But the lad’s heart beat high with hope that he might soon find his father.
The weather was propitious, and hours of sunshine were making the Corner House girls as brown as Indians. Mr. Howbridge, too, took on a coat of tan. As for Neale, his light hair looked lighter than ever against his tanned skin. And Hank, from walking along the towpath, became almost as dark as a negro.
One morning, Ruth, coming down to the kitchen to help Mrs. MacCall with the dinner, saw two fat, chubby legs sticking out of a barrel in one corner of the cabin.
The legs were vigorously kicking, and from the depths of the barrel came muffled cries of:
“Let me out! Help me out! Pull me up!”
Ruth lost no time in doing the latter, and, after an effort, succeeded in pulling right side up her sister Tess.
“What in the world were you doing?” demanded Ruth.
“I was scraping down in the bottom of the barrel to get a little flour that was left,” Tess explained, very red in the face. “But I leaned over too far and I couldn’t get up. And I couldn’t call at first.”