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Ruth Fielding on Cliff Island - Or, The Old Hunter's Treasure Box by pseud. Alice B. Emerson
page 7 of 183 (03%)
company," said Ruth, reflectively. "But there will not be the same crowd
to meet her that met us, dear."

"And the Sweetbriars will be on hand to preserve order," laughed her chum.
"Thanks to _you_, Ruthie. Why--oh! see Tom!"

She jumped up, dropping a lapful of pods, and pointed up the Cheslow road,
which here branched from the river road almost opposite the Red Mill.

"What is the matter?" demanded Ruth, also scrambling to her feet.

A big touring car was approaching at top speed. They could see that the
only person in it was a black-haired boy, who sat at the steering wheel.

He brought the machine to an abrupt stop before the gate, and leaped out.
Tearing off his goggles as he ran, he approached the two girls in such a
state of excitement that he could scarce speak coherently.

"Oh, Tom! what is it?" gasped Helen, seizing his arm with both hands.

It took but a single glance to discover the relationship between them.
Twins never looked more alike--only Tom's features lacked the delicacy of
outline which belonged to his sister.

"Tom!" cried Ruth, on the other side of the excited youth, "don't keep us
on tenter-hooks. Surely nothing has happened to Jane Ann?"

"I don't know! They won't tell us much about it at the station," exclaimed
the boy.

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