CHAPTER I
BIRDS OF PASSAGE
"IT seems incredible, girls, but I simply can't find her."
The young woman who made this remark was standing on the deck of an out-going ocean steamer. The great boat was ploughing its way through the Ambrose channel, leaving the long nose of Sandy Hook a thin line of white on one side. Fading away into the background like dim gray ghosts were the giant towers of New York City. The speaker was wearing a long, gray traveling coat with a blue lining, and a felt hat of the same colors rested close against her ash-brown hair.
Immediately three girls turned to face her. The minute before they had been leaning against the ship's railing. One of them revealed a suspicion of tears in her curiously dark eyes; the second had her lips shut unnecessarily tight to hide her emotion; while the third showed only rejoicing.
"Dear me, Ruth Drew," this girl now began in mock tragic tones, "you don't suppose that our infant has fallen overboard already, do you? Or do you suspect some one of having run away with her? At this present moment I presume that Frieda Ralston is in our stateroom. But it is possible that she is engaged in making the acquaintance of some one on shipboard whom she has decided she is crazy to know. The most probable supposition, however, is that she is trying to persuade a steward to give her something to eat. For over an hour ago she informed me that she was starving to death and wished to open one of her boxes of candy before leaving the New York pier. She is sure to turn up in a moment or so. Do please stay here with us and help Jack and Olive mourn. They are shedding tears over having to say farewell to the 'Stars and Stripes,' and incidentally to our best-beloved friends. But I can't even show a polite amount of emotion I am so happy over starting off on our trip at last."
Here Jean Bruce, one of the four Ranch girls from the Rainbow Lodge, abruptly ceased talking. She had been noticing for the past few minutes that a stranger had been listening to her conversation with a kind of well-bred amusement. And as she happened to be the person whom Jean had most admired since coming aboard the Martha Washington, it seeming annoying to be the subject of her smiles. However, Jean should not have been offended, for her sallies had awakened the first animation in the young woman's face since the hour of their sailing. Until recently she had been standing in a listless attitude within a few feet of the Ranch girls, apparently uninterested in anything in the world. In her slender arms she carried what looked like an entire tree of American Beauty roses. And now and then she had pressed her face against them. The traveler's costume had first attracted Jean's attention – it was so beautiful and fashionable. The coat was of dull blue silk; the small hat emphasized the classic outline of the young woman's haughtily poised head with its crown of pale-gold hair, and at a respectful distance a maid and a courier waited in attendance upon her.
Jack and Olive, even in the midst of their absorption, had been brought to admit that the stranger's appearance was fascinating. While to Jean's more romantic fancy she suggested no less a heroine than the Princess Flavia in "The Prisoner of Zenda."
In the moment of Jean's silence Jacqueline Ralston drew their chaperon's arm through hers, giving it a reproachful squeeze.
"If you are going to begin worrying over us, Ruth, in the very first hour of what Aunt Ellen called 'Our tower,' whatever is to become of you before we are through? I am sure Frieda is all right. And this time Jean is telling the truth. Olive and I have been feeling low in our minds over saying good-by to Jim and Ralph and Miss Winthrop and Peter and Jessica and a few others. But just the same we are as happy over the prospect of our trip as Jean Bruce is, every single bit!"
During this moment Ruth had again allowed herself to be silenced, but now she moved determinedly back from Jacqueline's detaining grasp.
"I don't think you girls understand the situation," Ruth argued a trifle impatiently. "Of course I have already searched for Frieda in every probable place on the ship and have had the stewardess helping me. She simply is not to be found! I don't like Frieda's running off from the rest of us in this fashion and I don't understand it. Where did you leave her, Jean, when you came on board the second time after going ashore for another farewell to Mr. Colter? I was so busy having our steamer trunks put into our staterooms that I could not join you." And for an instant, remembering that there were other reasons why she did not wish to be present at this final parting with Jim Colter, Ruth Drew hesitated and flushed. Would her New England conscience never allow her to be satisfied with telling only half the truth?
But Jean, forgetting the presence of her embarrassing audience, shook her head in protest.
"Frieda didn't come on board with me. I came on alone. Why, Jim and Ralph had fairly to shove me up the gang-plank before the last 'all aboard' was sung out! Frieda came on with Jack and Olive several minutes before. That is, I thought so. Surely you can't mean – "
