Uncle Jabez was not a gentle man, however; his voice being so seldom
heard did not make it the less rough and passionate. There were times
when, because of his black looks, Ruth did not even dare address him.
And there was one topic she longed to address him upon very much
indeed. She wanted to go to school.

She had always been quick at her books, and had stood well in the
graded school of Darrowtown. There was a schoolhouse up the road from
the Red Mill-- not half a mile away; this district school was a very
good one and the teacher had called on Aunt Alvirah and Ruth liked her
very much.

The flood had long since subsided and the repairs to the mill and the
dam were under way. Uncle Jabez grew no more pleasant, however, for
the freshet had damaged his dam so that all the water had to be let
out and he might go into midsummer with such low pressure behind the
dam that he could not run the mill through the drouth. This
possibility, together with the loss of the cash-box, made him-- even
Aunt Alvirah admitted-- "like a dog with a sore head." Nevertheless
Ruth determined to speak to him about the school.

She chose an evening when the kitchen was particularly bright and
homelike and her uncle had eaten his supper as though he very much
enjoyed it. There was no cash-box for him to be absorbed in now; but
every evening he made countless calculations in an old ledger which he
took to bed with him with as much care as he had the money-box.

Before he opened his ledger on this evening, however, Ruth stood
beside him and put a hand upon his arm.