Ruth knew that Jerry had soon recovered from his accident and that for several weeks, at least, had worked for Uncle Jabez.  The latter grudgingly admitted that Jerry was the best man he had ever hired in the cornfield, both in cutting fodder and shucking corn.

Just before Thanksgiving there came a letter saying that Jerry had gone on.  Of course, Ruth knew that her uncle would not keep the young fellow longer than he could make use of him; but she was sorry he had gone before she had communicated with him.

The girl of the Red Mill felt that she wished to know Jerry better.  She had been deeply interested in his story.  She had hoped to learn more about him.

“If you are really going to Cliff Island for the holidays, Belle,” she told the latter, “I hope I can go.”

“Bully!” exclaimed Belle, joyfully.  “We’ll have a dandy time there—­better than we had at Helen’s father’s camp, last winter.  I refuse to be lost in the snow again.”

“Same here,” drawled Heavy.  “But I wish that lake you talk about, Belle, wouldn’t freeze over.  I don’t like ice,” with a shiver.

“Who ever heard of water that wouldn’t freeze?” demanded Belle, scornfully.

“I have,” said Heavy, promptly.

“What kind of water, I’d like to know, Miss?”

“Hot water,” responded Heavy, chuckling.

Helen, and most of the other girls who were invited to Cliff Island for Christmas, had already accepted the invitation.  Ruth wrote to her uncle with some little doubt.  She did not know how he would take the suggestion.  She had been at the mill so little since first she began attending boarding school.

This Thanksgiving she did not expect to go home.  Few of the girls did so, for the recess was only over the week-end and lessons began again on Monday.  Only those girls who lived very near to Briarwood made a real vacation of the first winter holiday.  A good many used the time to make up lessons and work off “conditions.”

Thanksgiving Day itself was made somewhat special by a trip to Buchane Falls, where there was a large dam.  Dinner was to be served at five in the evening, and more than half the school went off to the falls (which was ten miles away) in several big party wagons, before ten o’clock in the morning.

“Bring your appetites back with you, girls,” Mrs. Tellingham told them at chapel, and Heavy, at least, had promised to do so and meant to keep her word.  Yet even Heavy did justice to the cold luncheon that was served to all of them at the falls.

It was crisp autumn weather.  Early in the morning there had been a skim of ice along the edge of the water; but there had not yet been frost enough to chain the current of the Buchane Creek.  Indeed, it would not freeze over in the middle until mid-winter, if then.

The picnic ground was above the falls and on the verge of the big millpond.  There were swings, and a bowling alley, and boats, and other amusements.