MISSING, A FAIRY GODMOTHER
Several days after the finding of the treasure-chest experts came down
from Philadelphia to appraise its value. It was not easy to decide,
immediately, what market price the old jewels, set in quaintly chased
gold, would bring. But the least that the coins and stones would be worth
was ten thousand dollars! It might be more. An extra thousand dollars or
so was hardly worth considering, when ten thousand would make things turn
out so beautifully even.
Madge and Captain Jules, Miss Jenny Ann and the other houseboat girls had
many discussions about Madge's discovery of the iron safe.
The little captain was entirely alone on one side of the argument. The
others were all against her. Yet she won her point. She continued to
insist that her wonderful find was purely an accident. How could she ever
have unearthed a box, lost from a sunken ship, that had probably been
buried for centuries, if Captain Jules Fontaine had not listened to her
pleadings and taken her on the wonderful diving trip with him? Though she
had actually struck the first blow on the piece of iron embedded in the
bay, she could never have dragged the safe out of the mud, or been able
to carry it up to the surface, without Captain Jules's assistance.
Madge and the old sailor started their discussion alone. The captain had
come over to the houseboat, bringing the iron safe with him so that the
girls might have a better view of its wonders. He had firmly made up his
mind that Madge must be made to understand that the money the treasure
would bring was to be all hers. He would not accept one cent of it. Fate
had been kinder to him than he had hoped in allowing him to guide Madge
to the discovery of her fortune.
"Ten thousand dollars!" exclaimed Madge ecstatically, when the old sailor
reported the news to her. "It's the most wonderful thing I ever heard of
in my life. I didn't dream it was worth so much money. Will you please
lend me a piece of paper and a pencil, Captain Jules. I never have been
clever at arithmetic." Madge knitted her brows thoughtfully. "Ten
thousand dollars divided by two means five thousand dollars for you and
the same sum for us."
The captain cleared his throat. "What's the rest of the arithmetic?" he
demanded gruffly. "I don't think much of that first division."
But Madge was hardly listening. She was biting the end of her pencil.
"Six doesn't go into five thousand just evenly," she replied
thoughtfully, "but with fractions I suppose we can manage. You see that
will be eight hundred and thirty-three dollars and something over for
Miss Jenny Ann to put in bank to take care of her if she ever gets sick,
or has to stop teaching; and the same sum will pay for Phil's first year
at college and for Eleanor's graduating at Miss Tolliver's, so uncle
won't have to worry over that any more. Then my little Fairy Godmother
can go to some beautiful school in the country, and not be shut up in a
horrid home with a capital 'H,' which is what Philip Holt has persuaded
Mrs. Curtis ought to be done with her. And Lillian can save her money to
buy pretty clothes, because she is not as poor as the rest of us and
dearly loves nice things, and----" Madge's speech ended from lack of
breath.
The captain rubbed his rough chin reflectively. "Oh! I see," he nodded,
"I am to get half of the money and you are to get a sixth of a half. Is
that it?"
[Illustration: Madge and Captain Jules Started Their Discussion Alone.]
Madge lowered her voice to a whisper. "Dear Captain Jules," she said in a
wheedling tone, "you'll help me, won't you? The girls and Miss Jenny Ann
declare positively that they won't accept a single dollar of the money. I
shall be the most miserable girl in the world if they don't. Why, we four
girls and Miss Jenny Ann have shared everything in common, our
misfortunes and our good fortunes, since we started out together. If any
one of the other girls had happened to discover the treasure instead of
me, she would certainly have divided it with the others. Phil, Lillian,
Eleanor and Miss Jenny Ann don't even dare to deny it. So they simply
must give in to me about it."
"Well," continued the captain, "I am yet to be told what Madge Morton
means to do with the one-sixth of one-half of her wealth when it finally
gets round to her."
The little captain's eyes shone, though her face sobered. "I am not going
to college with Phil, though I hate to be parted from her," she replied.
"Somehow, I think I am not exactly meant for a college girl. I believe I
will just advertise in all the papers in the world for my father. Then,
if he is alive, I shall surely find him. With whatever money is left I
shall go to him. If he is poor, I will manage to take care of him in some
way," ended Madge confidently.
"You will, eh?" returned Captain Jules gruffly. "It seems to me, my girl,
that this is a pretty position you have mapped out for me. I am to take
half of our find--nice, selfish old codger that I am--while you divide
yours with your friends. I am not going to take a cent of that money, so
you can just do your sums over again."
It was at this point that Madge called Miss Jenny Ann and the other
houseboat girls into the discussion. It ended with the captain's agreeing
to take one-seventh of the money, if all the others would follow suit.
"Because, if you don't," declared Madge in her usual impetuous fashion,
"I shall just throw this chest of money and jewelry right overboard and
it can go down to the bottom of the bay and stay there, for all I care."
Captain Jules remained to dinner on the houseboat that evening. After
dinner the girls proceeded to adorn themselves with the old sets of
jewelry found in the safe. Madge wore the pearls because, she insisted,
they were her special jewels, and she had gone down to the bottom of the
bay to find them. Phil was more fascinated with some old-fashioned
garnets, Lillian with a big, golden topaz pin, and Eleanor with some
turquoises that had turned a curious greenish color from old age.
It was well after ten o'clock when the captain announced that he must set
out for home. Tom Curtis had been spending the evening on the houseboat
with the girls, but he had gone home an hour before to join his mother
and her guest, Philip Holt. Before going away the captain concluded that
it would be best for him to leave the iron safe of coins and precious
stones on the houseboat for the night. It was too late for him to carry
it back to "The Anchorage" alone. As no one but Tom knew of its being on
the houseboat, the valuables could be in no possible danger. The captain
would call some time within the next day or so to take the iron box to a
safety deposit vault in the town of Cape May.
Together Miss Jenny Ann and the captain hid the precious chest in a small
drawer in the sideboard built into the wall of the little dining room
cabin of the houseboat. They locked this drawer carefully and Miss Jenny
Ann hid the key under her pillow without speaking of it to any one.
In spite of these precautions no one on the houseboat dreamed of any
possible danger to the safety of their newly-found prize. Remember, no
one knew of its being on the houseboat save Tom Curtis and Captain Jules.
Up to to-night Captain Jules had been guarding the treasure at his house
up the bay. No one had been allowed to see it since the famous day of its
discovery, except the experts who had come down from Philadelphia to give
some idea of the value of Madge's remarkable find.
Little Tania was in the habit of sleeping in the dining room of the
houseboat on a cot which Miss Jenny Ann prepared for her each night. She
went to bed earlier than the other girls, so in order not to disturb her,
she was stowed away in there instead of occupying one of the berths in
the two staterooms. Soon after the captain's departure Miss Jenny Ann
tucked Tania safely in bed. She closed the door of the dining room that
led out on the cabin deck and also the door that connected with the
stateroom occupied by Madge and Phil. The cabin of the "Merry Maid" was a
square divided into four rooms, and Miss Jenny Ann's bedroom did not open
directly into the dining room.
It was a dark night and a strangely still one. The weather was unusually
warm and close for Cape May. Over the flat marshes and islands the heat
was oppressive. The residents of the summer cottages left their doors and
windows open, hoping that a stray breeze might spring up during the night
to refresh them. No one seemed to have any fear of burglars.
On the "Merry Maid" the night was so still and cloudy that the girls sat
up for an hour after Captain Jules left them, talking over their
wonderful good fortune. They were almost asleep before they tumbled into
their berths. Once there, they slept soundly all night long. Nothing
apparently happened to disturb them, but Madge, who was the lightest
sleeper in the party, did half-waken at one time during the night. She
thought she heard Tania cry out. It was a peculiar cry and was not
repeated. She knew that Tania was given to dreaming. Almost every night
the child made some kind of sound in her sleep. Madge sat up in bed and
listened, but hearing no further sound, she went fast asleep again
without a thought of anxiety.
Miss Jenny Ann was the first to open her eyes the next morning. It must
have been as late as seven o'clock, for the sun was shining brilliantly.
She slipped on her wrapper and went into the kitchen to start the fire. A
few moments later she went into the dining room to call Tania and to help
the child to dress. But the dining room door on to the cabin deck was
open. Tania's bedclothes were in a heap on the floor. The child had
disappeared.
Miss Jenny Ann was not in the least uneasy or annoyed. She knew that
Tania had a way of creeping in Madge's bed in the early mornings and of
snuggling close to her. Miss Jenny Ann tip-toed softly into Madge's and
Phil's stateroom. There was no dark head with its straight, short black
hair and quaint, elfish face pressed close against Madge's lovely auburn
one. Madge was slumbering peacefully. Miss Jenny Ann peered into the
upper berth. Phil was alone and had not stirred.
Tania was such a queer, wild little thing! Miss Jenny Ann felt annoyed.
Perhaps Tania had awakened and slipped off the boat without telling any
of them. She had solemnly promised never to run away again, but she might
have broken her word. Miss Jenny Ann explored the houseboat decks. She
called the child's name softly once or twice so as not to disturb the
other girls. There was no answer. She went back into the cabin dining
room. Neatly folded on the chair, where Miss Jenny Ann herself had placed
them the night before, were Tania's clothes. The child could hardly have
run away in her little white nightgown.
When the girls finally wakened Madge was the only one of them who was
alarmed at first. She recalled Tania's strange cry in the night. She
wondered if it could have been possible that she had heard a sound before
the little girl cried out. But she could not decide. She would not
believe, however, that Tania had forgotten her promise and gone away
again without permission.
As soon as Eleanor and Lillian were dressed they went ashore and walked
up and down near the houseboat, calling aloud for Tania. Phyllis was the
most composed of the party. She had two small twin sisters of her own and
knew that children were in the habit of creating just such unnecessary
excitements. Still, it was better to look for a lost child before she had
had time to wander too far away.
"Madge," suggested Phil quietly, "don't be so frightened about Tania. I
have an idea the child has walked off the houseboat in her sleep. She
must have done so, for the dining room door is unlocked from the inside.
Our door on to the deck was not locked, but Tania's was, because Miss
Jenny Ann recalls having locked it herself. She came through our room
when she joined us outdoors after putting Tania to bed. You and I had
better go up at once to find Tom Curtis. Dear old Tom is such a comfort!
He will help us search for Tania. Then, if it is necessary, he will ask
the Cape May authorities to have the police on the lookout for her. If
Tania has wandered off in her sleep, the poor little thing will be
terrified when she wakes up and finds herself in a strange place. Surely,
some one will take her in and care for her until we find her."
Madge and Phil were wonderfully glad to find Tom Curtis up and alone on
his front veranda. He had just come in from a swim. He seemed so strong,
clean, and fine after his morning's dip in the ocean that his two girl
friends were immediately reassured. Tom would tell them just what had
better be done to find Tania.
"Mrs. Curtis's and Philip Holt's window blinds are still down, thank
goodness!" whispered Madge to Phil, "so I suppose they are both asleep.
Let us not tell them anything about Tania's disappearance. They would
just put it down to naughtiness in her, and that would make me awfully
cross."
Tom Curtis felt perfectly sure that he would soon run across the lost
Tania. So he left word for his mother that he had gone to the houseboat
and that she was not to expect him until she saw him again.
For two hours Tom and the houseboat party continued the hunt for the lost
child without calling in assistance. Then Madge and Tom went to the town
authorities of Cape May. The police investigated the city and the houses
in the nearby seaside resort without finding the least clue to Tania.
Toward the close of the long day Tom Curtis began to fear that Tania had
fallen into the water. Cape May is only a strip of land between the great
ocean and the bay, and the land is broken into many small islands nearly
surrounded by salt water and marshes.
Tom managed to get the girls safely out of the way; then, with Miss Jenny
Ann's permission, he had the water near the houseboat thoroughly dredged.
But Tania's little body was not found for the second time down in the
bottom of the bay. It was not possible to have all the water in the
neighborhood dragged in a single day, so Tom said nothing of his fears to
his anxious friends.
It was late in the evening. Miss Jenny Ann had prepared dinner for the
weary and disheartened girls. She had snowy biscuit, broiled ham, roasted
potatoes, milk, and honey, the very things her charges usually loved. Tom
Curtis felt impelled to go back home. All that day he had seen nothing of
his mother or of their visitor, Philip Holt, and Tom was afraid they
would begin to wonder what had become of him.
Madge caught Tom by the sleeve and looked at him with beseeching eyes.
"Please don't go, Tom," she begged, with a catch in her voice, "I am sure
your mother won't mind. She has Mr. Holt with her, and I can't bear to
see you go."
Tom and Madge were near the gangplank of the houseboat and Tom was trying
to make up his mind what he should do, when he and Madge caught sight of
a gray-clad figure walking toward them through the twilight mists.
"It's Mother," explained Tom in a relieved tone. "Now I can make it all
right with her."
"And that horrid Philip Holt isn't along," declared Madge delightedly,
"so I can tell her about poor little Tania."
Mrs. Curtis caught Madge, who had run out to meet her, by the hand. "My
dear child, what is the matter with you?" the older woman asked
immediately. "Even in this half-light I can see that your face is pale as
death and you look utterly worn out. If one of you is ill, why have you
not sent for me?"
When Madge faltered out her story of the lost Tania Mrs. Curtis hugged
her to her in the old sympathetic way that the little captain knew and
loved.
"I am so sorry, dear," soothed Mrs. Curtis, "but I am sure than Tom and
Philip Holt will find her. I suppose that is why they have both been away
all day."
"Philip Holt!" exclaimed Tom in surprise. "He hasn't been with us. I
thought he was at home with you."
Mrs. Curtis shook her head indifferently. "No; he hasn't been at the
cottage all day. Have any of you thought to send word to Captain Jules to
ask him about Tania? It may be that the child is with him. In any event,
I know Captain Jules would give us good advice."
"Bully for you, Mother!" cried Tom, glad to catch a straw as he saw the
shadow on Madge's face lighten. "As soon as I have had a bite of supper
with the girls I'll get hold of a boat and go after the captain."
Tom did not have to make his journey up the bay to "The Anchorage" that
night. While he and his mother were at supper with the girls they heard
the sound of Captain Jules's voice calling to them over the water. He had
to come ashore lower down the bay, where the water was deeper than it was
near the houseboat, but he always hallooed as he approached.
"O Jenny Ann!" faltered Madge, trembling like a leaf, "it is our captain.
Perhaps he has brought Tania back with him. I--I--hope nothing dreadful
has happened to her."
Without a word Tom fled off the houseboat. A moment later he espied
Captain Jules coming toward him, alone!
"Halloo, son!" called out Captain Jules cheerfully. "Glad to know that
you are down here with the girls. Funny thing, but I've had these girls
on my mind all day. It seemed to me that they needed me, and I couldn't
go to bed without finding out that everything was well with them. What's
wrong?" Captain Jules had caught a fleeting glimpse of Tom's harassed
face. "Is it--is it Madge?" he asked anxiously. "Is anything the matter
with my girl?"
Tom shook his head reassuringly. It took very few words to make the
captain understand that the trouble was over Tania and not Madge.
When, a moment later, the captain went aboard the "Merry Maid" he was
able to smile bravely at the discouraged women.
"Here, here!" he cried gruffly, while Madge clung to one of his horny
hands for support and Eleanor to the other, "what is all this nonsense I
hear? Tania is not really lost, of course. I'll bet you we find the
little witch in no time. She has just gone off somewhere in these New
Jersey woods to join the fairies she talks so much about. They are sure
to take good care of her. We can't do much more looking for her to-night,
but I'll find her first thing in the morning."
Both Captain Jules and Mrs. Curtis insisted that the girls and Miss Jenny
Ann go early to bed. Just as Captain Jules was saying good night it
occurred to Miss Jenny Ann that she would rather turn over to the old
sailor the box of coins and jewelry. While Tania was lost there would be
so many persons in and out of the houseboat that Miss Jenny Ann feared
something might happen to the valuables.
She went to the drawer in the sideboard in the saloon cabin without
thinking of the key under her pillow, and took hold of the knob. To her
surprise the drawer opened readily. There was no iron safe inside it.
Miss Jenny Ann ran to her bed and felt under her pillow. The key was
still there as though it had never been disturbed.
Captain Jules and Tom decided that the simple lock to the houseboat
sideboard had been easily broken open. When, or how, or by whom, nobody
knew, but it was certain that the jewels and money were gone. Fortune,
the fickle jade, who had brought the houseboat girls such good luck only
a short time before, had now cruelly stolen it away from them.