CHAPTER PAGE
I. Ruth in peril 1 II. A perfect shot 10 III. In the ring 18 IV. Smoking the peace pipe 26 V. Inspiration 34 VI. Everybody agrees but Dakota Joe 43 VII. Dakota Joe’s wrath 50 VIII. A wonderful event 59 IX. The plot develops 65 X. One new York day 75 XI. Evading the traffic police 89 XII. Bound for the Northwest 96 XIII. Dakota Joe makes A demand 104 XIV. The Hubbell ranch 112 XV. Pursuing danger 122 XVI. NEWS and A threat 130 XVII. The prologue is finished 138 XVIII. An accident threatening 146 XIX. In deadly peril 154 XX. Good news 160 XXI. A bull and A bear 168 XXII. In the canyon 175 XXIII. Reality 183 XXIV. Wonota’s surprise 192 XXV. Other surprises 198
RUTH FIELDING IN THE GREAT NORTHWEST
CHAPTER I
RUTH IN PERIL
The gray dust, spurting from beneath the treads of the rapidly turning wheels, drifted across the country road to settle on the wayside hedges. The purring of the engine of Helen Cameron’s car betrayed the fact that it was tuned to perfection. If there were any rough spots in the road being traveled, the shock absorbers took care of them.
“Dear me! I always do love to ride in Nell’s car,” said the plump and pretty girl who occupied more than her share of the rear seat. “Even if Tom isn’t here to take care of it, it always is so comfy.”
“Only one thing would suit you better, Heavy,” declared the sharp-featured and sharp-tongued girl sitting next to Jennie Stone. “If only a motor could be connected to a rocking-chair—”
“Right-o!” agreed the cheerful plump girl. “And have it on a nice shady porch. I’d like to travel that way just as well. After our experience in France we ought to be allowed to travel in comfort for the rest of our lives. Isn’t that so, Nell? And you agree, Ruthie?”
The girl at the wheel of the flying automobile nodded only, for she needed to keep her gaze fixed ahead. But the brown-haired, brown-eyed girl, whose quiet face seemed rather wistful, turned to smile upon the volatile—and voluble—Heavy Stone, so nicknamed during their early school days at Briarwood Hall.
“Don’t let’s talk about it, honey,” she said. “I try not to think of what we all went through.”
“And the soup I tasted!” groaned the plump one. “That diet kitchen in Paris! I’ll never get over it—never!”