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By the way, my name is Peterby Paul, and I'm well and fav'rably knowed about this mounting. I did have my thoughts about you, same as that Whosis, I must say. But you 'pear to be all right. Wait, and I'll bring ye down a couple of cans of gasoline, and you can go on and pick up the feller that's started to walk to Ridgeton." "But that poor creature I followed up here, Mr. Paul? We must find her."
That there Whosis got me out in the rain " "Oh! Where do you suppose the poor thing has gone?" interrupted Ruth. "We should do something for her." "Wal, if she don't belong to you folks " "She doesn't. But she should not be allowed to wander about in this awful way. Is she a woman grown, or a child?" "I couldn't tell ye. I ain't been close enough to her.
Ruth Fielding gave no sign of fearing the bearded man with the gun under his arm. She stood her ground as he approached her. "How many air there of ye, Sissy?" he wanted to know. "And air ye all loose from some bat factory? That other one's crazy as all git out." "Oh, did you see her?" "If ye mean that Whosis that's wanderin' around yellin' like a cat-o'-mountain " "Oh, dear!
Then Peterby Paul gave them careful directions as to the situation of Abby Drake's house, at which it seemed the lost woman must belong. "Abby always has her house full of city folks in the summer," the woodsman said. "She is pretty near a Whosis herself, Abby Drake is." With which rather unfavorable intimation regarding the despised "city folks," Mr.
I misdoubted me she was some kind of a Whosis," said the woodsman. "I seen her a couple of times and heard her holler ev'ry time the lightning was real sharp." "The poor creature has been frightened half to death by the tempest," said Ruth. "Mebbe. But where did she come from? And where did you come from, if I may ask?
And running lightly, the girl of the Red Mill was almost at her quarry's elbow before her presence was suspected by the latter. The woman turned her face toward Ruth and screeched in evident alarm. She looked wild enough to be called a "Whosis," whatever kind of supernatural apparition that might be.
The rain had ceased now, but it still dripped plentifully from the trees. "I'm going after her!" exclaimed Ruth. "All right, Ma'am," said Mr. Peterby Paul. "I guess she ain't no Whosis, after all." Ruth could run much faster than the strange person who had so startled both the woodsman and herself.
"Why," said Ruth, "I was trying to catch that poor creature, too." "That Whosis?" he exclaimed. "Whatever and whoever she is. See! Here's one of her shoes." "Do tell! She's lost it, ain't she? Don't you reckon she's loony?" "It may be that she is out of her mind. But she couldn't hurt you a big, strong man like you." "That's as may be.
But when they realized the state of mind of the strange woman, they calmed down. They wrapped her in a dry raincoat and put her in the back of the big car. She remained quietly there with Jennie's Aunt Kate while Ruth related her adventure with Mr. Peterby Paul and the "Whosis." "Goodness!" gasped Helen, "I guess he named her rightly.
Peterby Paul did have good reason for calling her a 'Whosis'." Mr. Peterby Paul appeared after a short time striding down the wooded hillside balancing a five-gallon gasoline can in either hand. "I reckon you can get to Ridgeton on this here," he said jovially. "Guess I'd better set up a sign down here so's other of you autermobile folks kin take heart if ye git stuck."
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