Ruth Fielding in the Red Cross; Or, Doing Her Best for Uncle Sam — Reading Notes

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In Category - Fantasy Juvenile Worlds

Authors: Emerson, Alice B. Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2011 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Red Cross and Red Crescent -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction; Patriotism -- Juvenile fiction; France -- Juvenile fiction; Fielding, Ruth (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 46,540

Reading time 203 min

Text sections 5

This digital edition of Ruth Fielding in the Red Cross; Or, Doing Her Best for Uncle Sam — Reading Notes is described by source-level measurements including 46,540 words, 3 hr 23 min estimated reading time, and 5 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 14.0 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #36395

Ruth Fielding packs Red Cross supplies, receives news of Tom Cameron enlisting, and later travels to France where she suspects a spy ring among aid workers, all narrated in a brisk, dialogue-driven style that shifts from domestic anxiety to wartime vigilance.

Editorial Edition Score 4.7/5

★★★★★ ★★★★★

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg36395

Read the Text

“Say!” he exclaimed, in his strange excitement. “I’ll show her to ye.”

He hurried out of the room, evidently in search of “Old Betsey.” Helen said to the miller’s niece:

“Goodness, Ruth! what has happened to your Uncle Jabez?”

“Just what has happened to Tom—and your father,” returned the girl of the Red Mill. “I’ve seen it coming on. Uncle Jabez has been getting more and more excited ever since war was declared. You know, when we came home from college a month ago and decided to remain here and help in the Red Cross work instead of finishing our sophomore year at Ardmore, my decision was really the first one I ever made that Uncle Jabez seemed to approve of immediately.

“He is thoroughly patriotic. When I told him I could study later—when the war was over—but that I must work for the soldiers now, he said I was a good girl. What do you think of _that_?”

“Cheslow is not doing its share,” Helen said thoughtfully, her mind switched by Ruth’s last words to the matter that had completely filled her own and her chum’s thoughts for weeks. “The people are not awake. They do not know we are at war yet. They have not done half for the Red Cross that they should do.”

“We’ll make ’em!” declared Ruth Fielding. “We must get the women and girls to pull together.”

“Say, Ruth! what do you think of that woman in black—you know, the widow, or whoever she is? Dresses in black altogether; but maybe it’s because she thinks black becomes her,” added Helen rather scornfully.

“Mrs. Mantel?” asked Ruth slowly. “I don’t know what to think of her. She seems to be very anxious to help. Yet she does nothing really helpful—only talks.”

“And some of her talk I’d rather not hear,” said Helen sharply.

“I know what you mean,” Ruth rejoined, nodding. “But so many people talk so doubtfully. They are unfamiliar with the history of the Red Cross and what it has done. Perhaps Mrs. Mantel means no harm.”

At that moment Uncle Jabez reappeared with the heavy rifle in his hands. He was still chuckling.

“Calc’late I ain’t heard Aunt Alvirah talk about this gun much of late. One spell—when fust she come here to the Red Mill to keep house for me—she didn’t scurce dare to go into my room because of it. But, of course, ‘twarn’t ever loaded.

“I was some sharpshooter, gals,” he added proudly, patting the stock of the heavy gun. “Here’s a ca’tridge. I’m goin’ to stick it in her an’ you shall hear how she roars. Warn’t no Maxim silencers, nor nothin’ like that, when I used to pot the Johnny Rebs with Old Betsey.”

He flung open the door into the back yard. He raised the rifle to his shoulder, having slipped in the greased cartridge.

“See that sassy jay atop o’ that cherry tree? I bet I kin clutter him up a whole lot—an’ he desarves it,” said Uncle Jabez.

Just then the door into the other kitchen opened, and a little, crooked-backed old woman with a shawl around her shoulders and a cap atop of her thin hair appeared.

“Jabez Potter! What in creation you goin’ to do with that awful gun?” she shrilled.

“I’m a-goin’ to knock the topknot off’n that bluejay,” chuckled Uncle Jabez.

“Stop! Don’t! Gals!” cried the little old woman, hobbling down the two steps into the room. “Oh, my back! and oh, my bones! Gals! stop him! That gun can’t shoot ’cause I went and plugged the barrel!”

At that moment Old Betsey went off with an awful roar.

CHAPTER II—THE CALL OF THE DRUM

There was a flash following the explosion, and Uncle Jabez staggered back from the doorway, his arm across his eyes, while the gun dropped with a crash to the porch. The girls, as well as Aunt Alvirah, shrieked.

“I vum!” ejaculated the miller. “Who done that? What’s happened to Old Betsey?”

“Jabez Potter!” shrilled the little old woman, “didn’t I tell you to git rid o’ that gun long ago? Be you shot?”

“No,” said the miller grimly. “I’m only scare’t. Old Betsey never kicked like that afore.”

Ruth was at his side patting his shoulder and looking at him anxiously.

“Shucks!” scoffed the miller. “I ain’t dead yit. But what made that gun——”

He stooped and picked it up. First he looked at the twisted hammer, then he turned it around and looked into the muzzle.

Continue Reading →

The novel opens not with a battlefield but with a packing box. Ruth Fielding, already engaged in local Red Cross work, is startled by Helen Cameron’s tearful news that her brother Tom has left Harvard for a training camp. The scene establishes a narrative voice that moves quickly between emotional outbursts and practical action: Helen’s sobs and the shaken letter contrast with Ruth’s swift recovery of self-control. The dialogue carries much of the exposition, and the author uses short, punchy sentences to convey urgency—'Oh! Not Tom?'—while the father’s unexpected cheer introduces a note of patriotic fervor that colors the early chapters.

Voice and Dialogue as Drivers of Pace

The prose in Ruth Fielding in the Red Cross relies heavily on direct speech to advance the plot and reveal character. In the opening chapter, Helen’s fragmented lines—'It—it’s written to father'—and Ruth’s measured replies create a rhythm of tension and release. The narrator rarely lingers on description; instead, the dialogue carries the emotional weight. When Ruth later speaks with the French prefect, the exchange is brisk and purposeful, with each line tightening the suspense around the suspected spies. This technique keeps the reading pace swift, even during moments of reflection, as characters’ words often cut short any internal monologue.

Shifts from Home Front to War Zone

The narrative moves from the familiar setting of a Red Cross packing room to the foreign streets of Lyse, France, with a corresponding change in tone. Early chapters are marked by domestic anxiety—Helen’s tears, Uncle Jabez’s excitement—but once Ruth crosses the Atlantic, the language becomes more alert and observational. The description of the ambulance driver, 'a tall, thin youth who wore shell-bowed glasses,' is rendered with a mix of humor and unease, and the car’s reckless driving—'turned a corner on two wheels'—signals a shift into a more dangerous world. The pace accelerates as Ruth’s suspicions about the woman in black and the disguised men take hold, moving from conversational to taut and watchful.

Recurring Details of Suspicion and Disguise

Throughout the excerpts, a pattern of disguise and hidden identity emerges. Ruth notes that the men she suspects used the names Legrand and José in America but may now be posing as Professor Perry and an Italian. The woman in black, Rose Mantel, is described as 'smiling, snaky,' and Ruth hesitates to accuse her for fear of damaging the Red Cross’s reputation. These details are introduced without fanfare, woven into the narrative through Ruth’s internal calculations and her cautious dialogue with the prefect. The author builds suspense not through dramatic reveals but through small, accumulating observations—a change of name, a too-charming smile, a reluctance to speak—that keep the reader attuned to Ruth’s growing unease.

Readers should attend to the way the author balances Ruth’s official duties with her private detective work. The narrative often withholds information from other characters, letting Ruth’s perspective guide the tension. Notice how the pace varies between the rapid-fire conversations of the early chapters and the more deliberate, observational passages once Ruth reaches France. The story rewards attention to small details—a glance, a hesitation, a name changed—that signal larger threats beneath the surface of wartime cooperation.

I often think of Ruth in France, her steady hands among the bandages while her heart churned elsewhere—that blend of duty and restless affection. There’s a kindred feeling in her later journey west, the same bright courage carried into open country. They sit together quietly on my shelf, two variations on one brave chord. Ruth Fielding In the Saddle; Or, College Girls in the Land of Gold — Edition Insights reminds me of that.