"Not at all, Ruth," he said, and now he glanced up at her. His look was cold. "Not at all."

"You are not yourself," she said, more composedly. "What are you thinking of?"

"I am thinking," said Tom, looking away again and with the same moodiness, "that I was a fool to leave the army. That was my job. I should have stuck to it. I should have used my commission and father's influence to stay in the army. But it's too late now. I guess I had my chance and didn't know enough to use it."

He arose abruptly, bowed stiffly, and walked away. If Tom had actually slapped her, Ruth could have felt no more hurt.

CHAPTER XIII

THE KINGDOM OF PIPES

Ruth Fielding at first felt only hurt; then she felt angry. She was no longer the timid, sensitive girl who had faced Jabez Miller when she first came to the Red Mill with a tremulous smile, to be sure, but tears standing thick in her eyes. No, indeed!

The present Ruth Fielding, a young woman of purpose and experience, not only could hide her feelings--especially if they were hurt ones--but possessed a saving sense of humor. And to her mind, just a moment later, Tom Cameron's very military looking shoulders and stride seemed rather funny.

He had hurt her; but then, he had hurt her as a boy might. It was true, perhaps, Tom was not grown up. Ruth considered that she was--very much so!

There he was, daring to complain because his army career had ended so suddenly--wishing that he had remained in uniform. And how would his father and his sister have felt if he had done so!

"He's a great, big b.o.o.by!" Ruth whispered to herself. Then her smile came back--that wistful, caressing smile--and she shook her head. "But he's Tom, and he always will be. Dear me! isn't he ever going to grow up?"

So she hid her hurt and accepted the first partner thereafter who offered; but it was not Chess. Secretly she knew what the matter with Tom was. And she was too proud to let the ex-captain see that she cared.

Nevertheless she was sorry that the party from down the river broke up as they did when the time to go home came.

She found herself in the Copley's launch again, with Chess' sisters and the members of the house party the Copleys were entertaining at their island. This dividing of the clans made it possible for Chess after letting the others out at the Copley dock, to take Ruth to the moving picture island alone.

It was a lovely, soft, moonlight night. The haze over the islands and the pa.s.sages between could not be called a fog, but it was almost as shrouding as a fog. When Chess ran the launch outside into the main stream, where the current was broad and swift, the haze lay upon the rippling surface like a blanket.

They were going very swiftly here, for it was with the current. Suddenly Chess shut off the engine. The "plop" of the exhaust ceased. They drifted silently on the bosom of the St. Lawrence.

"I don't see why I am treated so, Ruth," Chess suddenly burst out. "Do you know, I'm awfully unhappy?"

"You poor boy!" said Ruth in her warm-hearted way. "I think you are over-sensitive."

"Of course I am sensitive. I shall always be when I am--am--interested in any person and their treatment of me. It is congenital."

"Dear, dear!" laughed Ruth. "They have discovered that even incipient congenital idiocy can be cured by the removal of the adenoids. But I don't suppose such an operation will help you?"

"Oh, don't tease a fellow," complained her friend.

He reached for the throttle, then hesitated. Somewhere in the mist ahead was the throb of another engine.

"Who's this?" muttered Chess.

"Maybe it is Tom--looking for us," said Ruth, chuckling.

"The gall of him," exclaimed the heated Copley. Then he made a gesture for silence. A long, quavering "co-ee! co-ee!" came through the mist and from the south.

"From one of the islands," said Chess quickly.

"What island is that over there?" demanded Ruth, in a whisper. "Isn't it the one we took the first picture on?"

"It sure is," agreed the young fellow, but wonderingly.

"The Kingdom of Pipes," murmured Ruth.

"What's that?" asked Chessleigh.

Ruth repeated Helen's name for the rocky island on which Ruth had met the queer old man. "That call came from the island, didn't it?" she asked.

"I believe it did. What's going on here?"

"Hush!" begged Ruth. "That launch is coming nearer."

As she spoke, a moving object appeared in the mist. There was no light upon this strange craft. Chessleigh shuttered his own c.o.c.kpit lamp instantly.

"Good boy," acclaimed Ruth. "There is something going on here----"

They heard the call from the island again. There was a low reply from the strange launch--a whistle. Then the launch pushed on and was hidden by the mist again from the curious eyes of Ruth and her companion.

But they knew it had gone close to the island, if it had not really touched there. Its engine was stilled. All they heard for a time was the lapping of the waves.

"I'd like to know what it means," grumbled Chess.

Ruth agreed. "Let's wait a while. We may hear or see something more."

"Won't see much, I guess," replied her companion.

"Never mind. Let the boat drift. We're all right out here in the current, are we not?"

"Guess so. It beats my time," said her friend. "They say there is a lot of smuggling done along the border."

"Do you say so?" gasped Ruth, clasping her hands and almost as excited as Helen might have been. "Smugglers! Think of it!"

"And bad eggs they are."

"Of course there is no danger?"

"Danger of what?" he asked.

"Wouldn't the smugglers hurt us if we caught them?"

"Don't know. I've got a loaded pistol in the cabin. Guess I'll get it out," said Chess.

"I guess you won't!" Ruth exclaimed. "We'll go right away from here before we get into a fight!"