Ruth Fielding Homeward Bound / A Red Cross Worker's Ocean Perils

day. This was the second visit the captain had made to see Ruth since her injury. At th

perused the letter. "Of course, as usual he has made a mountain of tr

ve been an unmixed evil. Perhaps Aunt Alvirah-and Uncle Jabez, too-very much need me at home.

were going

ve your regim

is war is finished. But I hate to th

Lots of other people will b

I should," he told her earnestly. "You cannot hel

n, do you suppos

d, grimly enough. "In fact, they are more preva

lanning to go up into the air with that Mr. Stillinger! You will b

g on a joy ride in an

do hate to give up my work here and go home. Yet this letter," and she tapped the mi

grunted und

imes for a good many years. Aunt Alvirah is getting ol

ch, Ruth," said Tom Cam

has had to close down the mill, and is making no money, he will

id Tom shortly. "He has plenty of mo

s the dollars increasing in his strong box. You know, he counts his ready ca

her friend, "I don't see how you hav

oughtfully. "Poor Uncle Jabez! Well, I am beginning to feel tha

d all us fellows. The British and the French have fought Fritz so long and at such odds that I almost believe they are half scared of

in this sector. All the 'shock' they have given us you could put in your

wank,' you know, To

of them. They think they lose fewer troops and get more of the Huns that way. But that isn't the way we Yankees have been taught

d. "But what will you be doing meanwhi

a b

, my dear! I don't want to urge you not to; but do take care, if you

afraid who seem to pull through all the tight places. It is when

g lips, "that Mr. Stillinger will lose none of h

me so that I can't go down to Paris with you, and later see you aboard the ship at Brest. But this has bee

She gave him her good hand and s

pretty near over, as you believe, you will no

thie Fielding," he

n what manner Tom Cameron would follow Ruth to sea when she was homeward bound. Nor did the girl con

s to meet his friend and college-mate, Ralph Stillinger, the American ace. Ruth was helped by the hospit

ar little friend of hers who came to drive the automobile for Ruth when she left Clair. Henriette Dupay, the daughter o

erybody called her, "how pale you are, Mademoiselle Ruth. The ba

harm around the hospital than to injure me,

ngine of the motor began to purr smoothly, "it cannot be called 'providential.' This is a

ide the wheels, women waved their hands from the doorways of the little cottages, and wound

ore her injury, and whom she had tried to comfort in other ways during the hours she was off duty-had insisted upon coming to her cell, one by one, to bid he

y in the hospital, as well as the surgical staff and even th

the end of the village street. She turned to throw kisses w

he repeated, smiling throu

he girl with a practical nod. "And they k

of Henriette's, and laughed. Then suddenly: "You a

l. "I would not so dare-no, no! I have promised to take you past the chateau. And at the corner of the r

was leaving these friends. It made for happiness, th

r-arching it-trees that had sprung from the soil at least two hundred years before. With all the air raids there had been a

ash, appeared at the small postern when the car came purring up the hill. Henriette

will find some way of helping others. Mademoiselle Jeannie," (it was thus she spoke of her son, Henri's, sweetheart) "h

girl. "She leaves her mark upon our neighb

never quite forgiven the Americans for driving her back from her old home north of Clair when the Germans made the

t dipped into a swale, and the last picture of the people she had lea