Ruth Fielding at Lighthouse Point Part 14

"It's too bad about that girl," said Nita, brusquely, to Ruth. "Has she always been lame?"

Ruth warmed toward the runaway immediately when she found that Nita was touched by Mercy Curtis' affliction. She told Nita how the lame girl had once been much worse off than she was now, and all about her being operated on by the great physician.

"She's so much better off now than she was!" cried Ruth. "And so much happier!"

"But she's a great nuisance to have along," snapped Mary c.o.x, immediately behind them. "She had better stayed at home, I should think."

Ruth flushed angrily, but before she could speak, Nita said, looking coolly at The Fox:

"You're a might snappy, snarly sort of a girl; ain't you? And you think you are dreadfully smart. But somebody told you that. It ain't so. I've seen a whole lot smarter than you. You wouldn't last long among the boys where _I_ come from."

"Thank you!" replied Mary, her head in the air. "I wouldn't care to be liked by the boys. It isn't ladylike to think of the boys all the time----"

"These are grown men, I mean," said Nita, coolly. "The punchers that work for--well, just cow punchers. You call them cowboys. They know what's good and fine, jest as well as Eastern folks. And a girl that talks like you do about a cripple wouldn't go far with them."

"I suppose your friend, the half-Indian, is a critic of deportment,"

said The Fox, with a laugh.

"Well, Jib wouldn't say anything mean about a cripple," said Nita, in her slow way, and The Fox seemed to have no reply.

But this little by-play drew Ruth Fielding closer to the queer girl who had selected her "hifaluting" name because it was the name of a girl in a paper-covered novel.

Nita had lived out of doors, that was plain. Ruth believed, from what the runaway had said, that she came from the plains of the great West.

She had lived on a ranch. Perhaps her folks owned a ranch, and they might even now be searching the land over for their daughter. The thought made the girl from the Red Mill very serious, and she determined to try and gain Nita's confidence and influence her, if she could, to tell the truth about herself and to go back to her home. She knew that she could get Mr. Cameron to advance Nita's fare to the West, if the girl would return.

But up on the gallery in front of the shining lantern of the lighthouse there was no chance to talk seriously to the runaway. Heavy had to sit down when she reached this place, and she declared that she puffed like a steam engine. Then, when she had recovered her breath, she pointed out the places of interest to be seen from the tower--the smoke of Westhampton to the north; Fuller's Island, with its white sands and gleaming green lawns and clumps of wind-blown trees; the long strip of winding coast southward, like a ribbon laid down for the sea to wash, and far, far to the east, over the tumbling waves, still boisterous with the swell of last night's storm, the white riding sail of the lightship on No Man's Shoal.

They came down after an hour, wind-blown, the taste of salt on their lips, and delighted with the view. They found the ugly, hairy man sitting on the doorstep, listening with a scowl and a grin to Mercy's sharp speeches.

"I don't know what brought you back here to the light, Jack Crab, at this time of day," said Mother Purling. "You ain't wanted."

"I likes to see comp'ny, too, _I_ do," growled the man.

"Well, these girls ain't your company," returned the old woman. "Now!

get up and be off. Get out of the way."

Crab rose, surlily enough, but his sharp eyes sought Nita. He looked her all over, as though she were some strange object that he had never seen before.

"So you air the gal they brought ash.o.r.e off the lumber schooner last night?" he asked her.

"Yes, I am," she returned, flatly.

"You ain't got no folks around here; hev ye?" he continued.

"No, I haven't."

"What's your name?"

"Puddin' Tame!" retorted Mercy, breaking in, in her shrill way. "And she lives in the lane, and her number's cuc.u.mber! There now! do you know all you want to know, Hardsh.e.l.l?"

Crab growled something under his breath and went off in a hangdog way.

"That's a bad man," said Mercy, with confidence. "And he's much interested in you, Miss Nita Anonymous. Do you know why?"

"I'm sure I don't," replied Nita, laughing quite as sharply as before, but helping the lame girl to the buckboard with kindliness.

"You look out for him, then," said Mercy, warningly. "He's a hardsh.e.l.l crab, all right. And either he thinks he knows you, or he's got something in his mind that don't mean good to you."

But only Ruth heard this. The others were bidding Mother Purling good-bye.

CHAPTER XIV

THE TRAGIC INCIDENT IN A FISHING EXCURSION

The boys had returned when the party drove back to the bungalow from the lighthouse. A lighthouse might be interesting, and it was fine to see twenty-odd miles to the No Man's Shoal, and Mother Purling might be a _dear_--but the girls hadn't done anything, and the boys had. They had fished for halibut and had caught a sixty-five-pound one. Bobbins had got it on his hook; but it took all three of them, with the boatkeeper's advice, to get the big, flapping fish over the side.

They had part of that fish for supper. Heavy was enraptured, and the other girls had a salt.w.a.ter appet.i.te that made them enjoy the fish, too.

It was decided to try for blackfish off the rocks beyond Sokennet the next morning.

"We'll go over in the _Miraflame_"--(that was the name of the motor boat)--"and we'll take somebody with us to help Phineas," Heavy declared. Phineas was the boatman who had charge of Mr. Stone's little fleet. "Phin is a great cook and he'll get us up a regular fish dinner----"

"Oh, dear, Jennie Stone! how _can_ you?" broke in Helen, with her hands clasped.

"How can I _what_, Miss?" demanded the stout girl, scenting trouble.

"How can you, when we are eating such a perfect dinner as this, be contemplating any other future occasion when we possibly shall be hungry?"

The others laughed, but Heavy looked at her school friends with growing contempt. "You talk--you talk," she stammered, "well! you don't talk English--that I'm sure of! And you needn't put it all on me. You all eat with good appet.i.tes. And you'd better thank me, not quarrel with me. If I didn't think of getting nice things to eat, you'd miss a lot, now I tell you. You don't know how I went out in Mammy Laura's kitchen this very morning, before most of you had your hair out of curl-papers, and just _slaved_ to plan the meals for to-day."

"Hear! hear!" chorused the boys, drumming with their knife handles on the table. "We're for Jennie! She's all right."

"See!" flashed in Mercy, with a gesture. "Miss Stone has won the masculine portion of the community by the only unerring way--the only straight path to the heart of a boy is through his stomach."

"I guess we can all thank Jennie," said Ruth, laughing quietly, "for her attention to our appet.i.tes. But I fear if she had expected to fast herself to-day she'd still be abed!"

They were all lively at dinner, and they spent a lively evening, towards the end of which Bob Steele gravely went out of doors and brought in an old boat anchor, or kedge, weighing so many pounds that even he could scarcely carry it upstairs to the bed chamber which he shared with Tom and Isadore.

"What are you going to do with that thing, Bobby Steele?" demanded his sister.

"Going to anchor Busy Izzy to it with a rope. I bet he won't walk far in his sleep to-night," declared Bobbins.

With the fishing trip in their minds, all were astir early the next morning. Miss Kate had agreed to go with them, for Mercy believed that she could stand the trip, as the sea was again calm. She could remain in the cabin of the motor boat while the others were fishing off the rocks for tautog and rock-ba.s.s. The boys all had poles; but the girls said they would be content to cast their lines from the rock and hope for nibbles from the elusive blackfish.

The _Miraflame_ was a roomy craft and well furnished. When they started at nine o'clock the party numbered eleven, besides the boatman and his a.s.sistant. To the surprise of Ruth--and it was remarked in whispers by the other girls, too--Phineas, the boatkeeper, had chosen Jack Crab to a.s.sist him in the management of the motor boat.