"For you, Miss?" the station master returned, somewhat surprised it
seemed.

"Yes, sir. Anybody from Red Mill?"

Curtis smote one fist into his other palm, exclaiming:

"You don't mean to say that you was what Jabe Potter was after?"

"Mr. Jabez Potter, who keeps the Red Mill, is my uncle," Ruth
observed, with dignity.

"My goodness gracious me, Miss! He was here long before your train was
due. He's kind of short in his speech, Miss. And he asked me if there
was anything here for him, and I told him no. And he stumped out again
without another word. Why, I thought he was looking for an express
package, or freight. Never had an idea he was expectin' a niece!"

Ruth still looked at him earnestly. The man did not suspect, by her
appearance, how hard a time she was having to keep the tears from
overrunning those calm, gray eyes.

"And you expected to go out to the Red Mill to-night, Miss?" he
continued. "They're country folk out there and they'd all be abed
before you could get there, even if you took a carriage."

"I don't know that I have enough to pay for carriage hire," Ruth said,
softly. "Is-- is there any place I can stop over night in the village?
Then I can walk out in the morning."