Nettie Parsons was the first multi-millionaire's daughter who had ever come to Briarwood Hall. Most of the girls' parents were well-to-do; otherwise they could not have afforded to pay the tuition fees, for Mrs.

Grace Tellingham's inst.i.tution was of considerable importance on the roster of boarding schools.

Many of the girls' parents, like Helen Cameron's father, were really wealthy. But Mr. Parsons was way above that! And with a certain cla.s.s the mere fact of money _as_ money, is cause enough for them to kneel down and worship!

After a time these "toadies" were disappointed in the daughter of the "sugar king." Nettie Parsons was a very commonplace, kindly girl, not at all brilliant, and dressed more plainly than the majority of the girls at Briarwood Hall.

Ruth's thoughts about money were not in the same lines as the thoughts of those girls so much interested in Nettie Parsons' riches. She neither envied the wealthy girl her possessions, nor desired to be like her.

What Ruth Fielding desired so keenly was independence. She wanted to control her own destiny, instead of being so beholden to Uncle Jabez Potter for everything. The sting of being an object of charity had gotten deeply into Ruth's heart. The old miller had an unfortunate way with him, which made the proud girl feel keenly her situation.

There was really no reason at all why the miller should take care of, and educate, his niece's child. He was not legally bound to do it. The kinship was not close enough for people to really expect Uncle Jabez to do all that he had for Ruth Fielding!

There had been times when the girl, through several fortunate circ.u.mstances, had been of real help to the miller. She had once helped recover some money he had lost when the freshet wrecked a part of the Red Mill. Again, it was through her that an investment in a mine in Montana had proved productive of gain for Uncle Jabez, instead of loss.

And now, only this summer, she had actually saved the miller's life.

Grudgingly, Uncle Jabez had paid these debts by keeping her at this expensive school and furnishing her with clothes and spending money. It was plain he had never approved of her being away from the mill during vacations, too.

Uncle Jabez saw no reason for young people "junketing about" and spending so much time in pleasure, as Ruth's friends did. Boys and girls learned to work, in his day, between short terms at school. It was all so different now, that the old man could not be blamed for misunderstanding.

For a girl to look forward to making a name for herself in the world--to have a career--to really be somebody--was something of which Uncle Jabez (and Aunt Alvirah as well) could not fail to disapprove.

Ruth desired to prepare for college, and in time enter a higher inst.i.tution of learning. She wished, too, to cultivate her voice, and to use it in supporting herself later. She knew she could sing; she loved it, and the instructors at Briarwood encouraged her in the belief that she had a more than ordinarily fine contralto voice.

Uncle Jabez did not believe in such things. He would never be willing to invest money in making a singer of his niece. Useless to think of it!

Uncle Jabez had said that girls were of little use in the world, anyway--unless they settled down to housekeeping. The times Ruth had been of aid to him were, as he said, "just chancey."

It was of the reward for the return of the missing pearl necklace to Nettie Parsons' Aunt Rachel, that the girl of the Red Mill was thinking so continually, while the first days of this term at Briarwood slipped by. But five thousand dollars would grant Ruth Fielding the independence she craved!

Ruth and Helen Cameron had discussed the mystery of the pearl necklace in all its bearings--over and over again. All the "pros" and "cons" in the case had "been before the house," as Helen said, and it all came to the same answer: Could it be possible that Queen Zelaya, Roberto's grandmother, now had in her possession the necklace rightfully the property of Nettie Parsons' Aunt Rachel?

"That is, she had it," said Ruth, believing fully it was so, "if that awful man I saw spying on her, has not robbed the old woman and gotten away with the necklace. You know how he talked that day in the deserted house to the other Gypsy?"

"I guess I do!" exclaimed Helen. "Could I ever forget a single detail of that awful time?"

"And where are the Gypsies now?" said Ruth, feelingly. "Ah! _that_ is the question."

"Uncle Ike wrote father that they had been traced some distance toward the south," Helen returned, doubtfully.

"The south is a big section of the country," and Ruth wagged her head.

"Father was very angry," said Helen, "that the police did not find them, so that the whole tribe could be punished for what they did to us, I never saw father so angry before. He declared that the Gypsies should be taught a lesson, and that their escape was most inexcusable."

Ruth said nothing, but shook her head.

"You know the excuse the sheriff and that Constable Peck, at Severn Corners, gave?"

"Yes," nodded Ruth.

"If you had come right up to the village that night, when Roberto brought you to the farmhouse, and told where the camp was, they'd have nabbed the whole crowd, before they could have gotten over the state line."

"I know," murmured Ruth.

She was remembering Roberto's words as he left her that stormy night in sight of her refuge. He had asked not to be too hard on the Gypsies; therefore, she had not hurried to lodge information against Queen Zelaya and her tribe.

But if she had only known about this pearl necklace! Nettie Parsons had described the jewel so clearly that the girl of the Red Mill could not for a moment doubt that the necklace in Zelaya's possession was the one for which the reward was offered.

"I tell you what I'll do, if you say the word," Helen said at last, seeing that her friend was really so much troubled about the affair.

"What's that, dear?"

"I'll write to father. Let me tell him all about you seeing the old woman handling the pearls, and then about this necklace that was lost by Nettie's aunt. He can advise you, at any rate."

So it was agreed. Helen wrote that very day. Inside of a week an answer came, and it quite excited Helen.

"What do you think?" she demanded of her chum. "Father has business that calls him to Lumberton in a few days. He will come here to see us. And he says for me to tell you to be sure and say nothing to anybody else about the missing necklace until he sees you."

"Of course I won't speak of it," replied Ruth. "I am not likely to. Oh, dear, Helen! if I could only win the reward that woman offers for the return of her necklace!"

It was not many days before Helen received the telegram announcing her father's coming to Lumberton, which was the nearest town to Briarwood Hall. She showed it to Mrs. Tellingham, and asked that she and Ruth be excused from lessons, when Mr. Cameron came, as he wished to drive the girls over to see Tom at Seven Oaks.

This was, of course, arranged. Mr. Cameron was a very busy man, and he could not spend much time in this visit. But he desired to speak to Ruth regarding the mystery of the pearl necklace.

He had hired a pair of spirited horses at Lumberton, and he quite had his hands full, as they bowled over the hilly road toward the military academy. But he could talk to the girls.

He had Ruth give him every particular of what she had seen at night in the Gypsy van, and when she had done so, he said:

"I have taken the pains to get from the police the description of Mrs.

Rachel Parsons' missing necklace. It fits your tale exactly, Ruth. Now, I tell you what I shall do.

"I will set a detective agency at work. For my own part, I wish to overtake this Queen Zelaya, as she calls herself, and punish her for what she did to you two girls. If such people go free, it encourages them to do worse next time.

"Now, if she has the necklace, and we can secure it, all the better. I would be glad to see you get that reward, Ruthie. And Helen says you are very anxious to win it."

"Who wouldn't be?" gasped Ruth. "Just think of five thousand dollars!"

They were driving through a fine piece of chestnut wood as she said this. The blight had not struck these beautiful trees and they hung full of the p.r.i.c.kly burrs. The frost of the previous night had opened many of these, and the brown nuts smiled at once through the openings.

"There's a boy knocking them down!" cried Helen. "Let's stop and get some, Father. See them rain down!"

At that moment a shower of chestnuts fell and a p.r.i.c.kly burr landed on the back of one of the team. The beast rose on his hind legs and pawed the air, snorting.

"Look out!" exclaimed the boy in the tree.

Mr. Cameron was a good horseman and he had the animals well in hand. The boy, however, was so anxious to see what went on below, that he strained forward too far. With a scream, and the snap of broken boughs, he plunged forward, shot through the leafy-canopy, and landed with a sickening thud upon the ground!

Mr. Cameron had halted the horses dead. Ruth was out of the carriage like a flash and dropped on her knees by the boy's side. She was horror-stricken and speechless; yet she had made a great discovery as the boy fell.