RUTH INTERCEDES

The two girls did not see Roberto that day, nor for several days following. The hospital authorities did not think it best to allow him to be excited even in a mild way.

They sent in such delicacies as the nurse said he could have, and Tony Foyle was bribed by Helen to get a report from the hospital every day about the young Gypsy.

The girls kept very quiet about the patient in the hospital. Their mates knew only that Helen and Ruth had been driving with Mr. Cameron when the boy fell out of the tree. They did not dream that the victim of the accident had any possible connection with the pearl necklace that Nettie Parsons' aunt had lost!

Helen kept her father informed of the progress of Roberto's case, and in return he wrote Helen that the detectives were confident of reaching old Queen Zelaya and her tribe.

"But if we could only get Roberto to talk!" sighed Ruth.

"Why, Ruth Fielding! if the poor fellow has been made speechless by that fall, how _can_ he talk?"

"I know, but----"

"Don't you believe it is _so_?"

"Why--yes," admitted Ruth. "Of course, he would have no reason for refusing to speak. And they say he has a hard time making them understand what he wants, for he doesn't know how to write. Poor fellow!

I suppose he never realized before, that the art of writing was of any use to _him_."

In a week or so the girls were allowed to go to the ward where Roberto lay. Helen carried an armful of good things for the Gypsy lad to eat, but Ruth remembered that he had not cared much for delicacies, and she carried picture papers and a great armful of brilliant fall flowers--some picked by herself in the woods, and the others begged from Tony Foyle.

"Taking flowers to a boy--pshaw!" scoffed Helen. "Why, that shows you have no brother, Ruthie. Tom wouldn't look at flowers when he's sick."

Ruth believed she had made no mistake. When they approached the bed in which Roberto lay, he looked very pale indeed, and the expression of weariness on his face as he stared out of the distant window, made Ruth's heart ache for the captive wild-boy.

"Here are visitors for you, Robert," said the kindly nurse.

The big, black eyes of the Gypsy boy rolled toward the two girls. Then his face lit up and his eyes sparkled. They were fixed eagerly on the ma.s.s of brilliant blossoms Ruth carried. She scattered the flowers over the coverlet, and Roberto seized some of them, fairly pressing them to his lips. He nodded and smiled at the display of Helen's offerings, too, but he could not keep his eyes away from the flowers. He had been homesick for his beloved woodlands.

He was still in plaster and could not move much. He did his best to make the girls understand how welcome they were, but not a sound came from his lips.

"A very strange case, indeed," said the doctor in charge, when the girls came down from the ward. "There seems to be absolutely no reason why he does not speak. Apparently no paralysis of the vocal cords. But speechless he is. And as he cannot read or write, it is a nuisance."

"It isn't possible that for some reason he doesn't _wish_ to speak?"

queried Ruth, doubtfully.

"Why, Ruth! there you go again!" exclaimed Helen. "I never knew you to be so suspicious."

The doctor laughed. "I think not," he said. "Of course, he might, but he must be a wonderfully good actor. The next time you come, we shall try him."

So on a subsequent call of the two girls at the hospital, the doctor entered the ward at the same time they did and likewise approached Roberto's bed, only on the opposite side. Ruth had brought more flowers, and the boy was evidently delighted.

"Are you sure you can't speak to me, Roberto?" asked Ruth, softly, as he nodded and smiled and clasped the flowers to his breast with his one good hand.

Roberto shook his head sadly, and his black eyes showed every indication of sorrow. But of a sudden he jumped, and a spasm of pain crossed his face. The doctor straightened up and Roberto scowled at him wrathfully.

The boy had not uttered a sound.

"I jabbed him with this needle," said the doctor, with disgust. "You see, either he has perfect control over himself; or he absolutely cannot speak. While I was setting his arm and fixing up his smashed ribs, he only moaned a little."

"Oh!" Helen had gasped, looking at the medical man in some wrath.

"Don't do it again--not for _me_," urged Ruth. "I am sorry I said anything about it."

"Oh, he isn't seriously injured by _that_," said the surgeon, holding up the needle. "But I do not think he is 'playing possum.'"

"It isn't possible!" exclaimed Helen, confidently.

"And how long must he lie here?" Ruth asked.

"Oh, in a fortnight he'll be as fine as a fiddle. Of course, he won't be able to use his arm much for several weeks. But the ribs will knit all right. Maybe he can find some light job----"

"We'll see about _that_," Helen interrupted.

"I can see you young ladies are much interested in him," chuckled the doctor. "And not entirely because he is a handsome, black-eyed rascal, eh?"

Ruth knew that old Tony Foyle, the gardener at Briarwood Hall, was interested in the lad. He had gone up to the ward to see Roberto several times, and came away enthusiastic in the Gypsy's praise.

"Sure," said Tony, to Ruth, "he's jist the bye after me hear-r-t.

Herself would like him, he's that doomb!"

"Herself" was Tony's wife, who was the cook at Briarwood Hall.

"And the way that boy do be lovin' flowers! Sure, his bed in the horspital is jest covered wid 'em. He'd be a handy lad to have here ter give me aid, so he would. An' I been tellin' Mis' Tellingham that I need another helper."

"We'll get him the job, Tony!" cried Ruth, in delight. "I believe he would like to help around your hothouse and the beds. I'll see."

She interceded with the princ.i.p.al for Roberto, and obtained her promise that the Gypsy boy should have the job. Then she sounded Roberto himself, and by the way his eyes lit up and he smiled and nodded, Ruth knew he would be delighted to be Tony Foyle's a.s.sistant.

"At least," thought Ruth, "I can keep in sight of him for a time.

Perhaps he couldn't tell us, anyway, where Queen Zelaya has hidden herself. But I believe he knows, and I haven't much faith in the results those detectives get."

Roberto mended rapidly. He was soon up and about the ward, when the girls called. He was less restless than Ruth expected him to be, and he still signified his intention of coming to help the little old Irish gardener at Briarwood Hall.

"When he recovers his powers of speech," said the doctor, "it will be as suddenly as he lost them. No doubt of that. But it is a most puzzling case. I am glad he is not going far from Lumberton. I want to watch the progress of the affair."

The next day Roberto came to Briarwood.

CHAPTER XXII

A GREAT TEMPTATION

About this time Ruth suffered a great temptation. She was so little given to covetousness or envy, that other girls of her cla.s.s might have dresses, jewelry, and many other things dear to girlish hearts, without Ruth's being at all disturbed.