Part 27 (1/2)
”Yes, indeed,” returned Ruth. She gave a look around. ”My, what a lonely spot!”
”It is lonely,” the youth answered. ”Kind of a Robinson Crusoe place,” and he gave a short laugh.
”Listen!” cried Ruth, and held up her hand as a warning.
”What did you hear, Ruth?”
”I thought I heard somebody talking, or calling.”
”You did?” Tom listened intently. ”I don't hear anything.” He listened again. ”Yes, I do! Where did it come from?”
”I think it came from yonder,” and the girl from the Red Mill pointed to a big, round rock ahead of them.
”Maybe it did, Ruth. We'll--yes, you are right!” exclaimed the boy.
As he spoke there was a sc.r.a.ping sound ahead of them and suddenly a tousled black head popped, up over the top of the boulder from which fluttered the bit of white linen that had first attracted Ruth's attention.
”Gracious goodness!” gasped Helen.
”It's Nita!” cried Ruth.
”Oh, oh!” shrilled the lost girl, flying out of concealment and meeting Ruth as she leaped ash.o.r.e. ”Is it really you? Have you come for me? I--I thought I'd have to stay here alone forever. I'd given up all hope of any boat seeing me, or my signal. I--I'm 'most dead of fear, Ruth Fielding! Do, do take me back to land with you.”
The Western girl was clearly panic-stricken. The boldness and independence she had formerly exhibited were entirely gone. Being marooned on this barren islet had pretty well sapped the courage of Miss Jane Ann Hicks.
CHAPTER XXIV
PLUCKY MOTHER PURLING
Tom Cameron audibly chuckled; but he made believe to be busy with the painter of the catboat and so did not look at the Western girl. The harum-scarum, independent, ”rough and ready” runaway was actually on the verge of tears. But--really--it was not surprising.
”How long have you been out here on this rock?” demanded Helen, in horror.
”Ever since I left the bungalow.”
”Why didn't you wave your signal from the top of the rock, so that it could be seen on the point?” asked Ruth, wonderingly.
”There's no way to get to the top of the rock--or around to the other side of it, either,” declared the runaway. ”Look at these clothes! They are nearly torn off. And see my hands!”
”Oh, you poor, poor thing!” exclaimed Helen, seeing how the castaway's hands were torn.
”I tried it. I've shouted myself hoa.r.s.e. No boat paid any attention to me. They were all too far away, I suppose.”
”And did that awful man, Crab, bring you here?” cried Ruth.
”Yes. It was dark when he landed and showed me this cave in the rock.
There was food and water. Why, I've got plenty to eat and drink even now. But n.o.body has been here----”
”Didn't he come back?” queried Tom, at last taking part in the conversation.