CHAPTER VIII

THE FLOOD Ruth climbed again into her roadster. Before she had started the engine a farmer who lived a short distance from the Red Mill came over to the car and spoke to her. “Hear they had quite a rain yesterday up north of us,” he informed her. Ruth glanced up quickly. “I hadn’t heard. The river is unusually high at this time of year, too.” “You may get flooded there at the Red Mill. They say it was a regular cloud-burst. Lucky we didn’t get it here at Cheslow. It’s been a rainy season this year—bad for some of t…