A NOBLE DEED UNDONE
"Now Grace! If you attempt to go near that dreadful man I shall scream
and wake him up," threatened Madaline, in real alarm.
"No, you won't either. You would be afraid to. Hush, keep still. I want
to see if I can lasso his old bag. Wouldn't it be fine if I could
rescue Mrs. Johnston's washing? You know it was stolen off her line two
nights ago." With this the daring girl stole up more closely to the
sleeping figure.
The quiet lull of the flowing river, as it fell over a little cascade,
was acting as a potential lullaby to the wayfarer at the foot of the
tree. His figure was grotesque, but at the distance the girls were
viewing him from it was not possible to discern more than a figure--it
might be that of almost any sort of a man, for all they could tell.
Grace untied her nice clean coil of rope, while Madaline besought her
in every kind of cabalistic sign she could summon to her aid, to desist
in her reckless intention of tieing the man to the tree. But the
temptation was evidently too much for the frolicsome Grace, for as
Madaline cast a wild eye over her shoulder in her flight from the spot,
she could just see Grace, tip-toeing up to that figure.
A few seconds later came a stifled cry!
"Wait, oh, Madie, wait!" called Grace, and, stopping in the briar path,
Madaline glimpsed the imperturbable Grace, making her way through the
thicket and dragging something heavy behind her!
"Mercy me!"' exclaimed Madaline. "What can she be tugging along!"
"Wait, help me!" now called Grace in a bolder voice.
"No, I will not! Grace Philow, are you crazy?" gasped Madaline.
"Crazy, not at all," sang out Grace in a laughing voice. "I've got it!"
"Got what?" Madaline cried anxiously.
"Mrs. Johnston's wash!"
"Oh, Grace, you will get us both arrested."
"For recovering stolen property! You have a fine sense of scout laws,"
Grace retorted. "If you don't help me get out of the briars I shall
report you to the captain--if we ever find her," and another laugh
grated on the frightened ears of Madaline.
"I can't help you, Grace," Madaline replied in a more conciliatory
tone. "The briars are so thick here, they almost tore off my shoe--it
is not laced tight, you know."
"Well, they are tearing up Mrs. Johnston's wash," admitted Grace, still
tagging at the trailing bag, that could not be seen in the thicket and
brambles she dragged it over.
"Oh, Grace! There he comes!" screamed Madaline, as a moving figure
could be outlined in the shadows of the low brush, and tall swamp berry
trees, that just towered high enough to hide the form that bent and
broke the impeding young birches. It was the swish and motion of the
brush that indicated his advance and location.
"Mercy!" yelled Grace, alarmed now in spite of her boasted courage.
"Let's run. But I won't drop this wash. I don't care if he follows me
into the post-office for it," and at that, she gave the rope one more
terrific jerk, the force of which brought the trailing obstacle out
into the path where it had a clear track to follow the girl, who held
madly to the other end of the rope.
No words were wasted as the girls scampered and scurried through that
wood. Grace held firmly to the rope, and could feel that it still
dragged her quarry, while Madaline never turned her head to see whether
or not the pursuing man was at their heels. That they had not been
struck down was enough, to be thankful for, thought Madaline.
And in all of this, no trace of the other members of the hiking party
was discovered. More than once the girls heard something they decided
ought to be their "Coo-ee" call, but each time it turned out to be
nothing more friendly than the astonished birds, either laughing at the
scouts, or rooting for their successful escape from the pursuer.
Beaching the big rock that covered the path, and always had to be
climbed over "by hand," the girls scrambled up, then down, and when
Grace gave a necessarily vigorous tug at her rope it sprang up to her
face in a real caress! In fact it actually coiled around her like a
friendly thing.
Mrs. Johnston's wash was gone!
"Oh, he grabbed it!" wailed Grace. "He got hold of my rope when we had
to stop to make the rock and now--he has got it again!"
"Don't you dare stop one minute!" panted Madaline. "You have almost
murdered us as it is," she proclaimed in her excitement, which always
banished her ordinarily sparse supply of reasonable language.
"Nice way you help a sister," mocked Grace. "I thought you were going
to help me win honors," and she gathered up her delinquent rope with a
much disturbed expression on her pretty face.
"I think I have helped you save your life, if you only knew it,"
Madaline managed to articulate. "The idea--"
"All the same I did tie him up," admitted Grace, bolder now that she
could see the end of the woods. "I don't see how he got loose. I used
the running bow-line, and a couple of clove hitches. Our old knots came
in useful, but they didn't hold evidently. Hark! Wasn't that a whistle!
Sounded like Margaret's trill."
"Yes, and it's away over on the Avenue. Whatever will Captain Clark
say?"
"Now, Madie, you just promise you will say nothing about my man and
Mrs. Johnston's wash. I tried to do something noble and it didn't pan
out, so if you are a good little pal, and a first rate sport, you will
keep mam as a clam, won't you, please, Madie?"
"Well, since it did not end in a tragedy I suppose I may keep quiet
without breaking honor, but you know, Gracie, I am six months older
than you, and I would be held accountable at a trial."
"Don't you fret," and Grace was now shaking her curly head and throwing
her blazing cheeks up to the clearance light, with, renewed defiance.
"I certainly had a lovely time while it lasted."
"There are the girls!" exclaimed Madaline joyously. "It would have been
dreadful if they were obliged to go all the way into Flosston without
us. They would have come back with the mill bell man looking for us."
"Whoo-hoo!! Coo-ee, Coo-ee!!" trilled Grace, and back came the welcome
answer.
"Coo-ee! Coo-ee! Whoo-hoo!"
Realizing the lost was found, Lieutenant Lindsley stood on top of the
little hill, just over the turn of the macadam road, that outlined
Oakley Avenue, the one street of distinction that ran through the
country and gave tone to little Flosston on its way. She was an
attractive figure standing there in her plain serge suit, and soft
tam-o'-shanter on her finely poised head, and even at a distance one
would be correct in describing Romaine Lindsley as an attractive,
fine-looking young girl.
Around her were the other members of the hiking party, all of whom had
come to an abrupt halt, at the call of Grace and Madaline from the
woodlands.
"Don't run to meet them," cautioned the lieutenant, "that might mean
another mixup," and she gave a double quick trill to notify the
delinquents they were expected to report promptly. "After all there
appears to be no harm done, other than the loss of an afternoon's
sport."
"But I did not get my watercress," wailed Winnie, the blonde of the
McKay twins.
"And I lost a perfectly good side comb mother just received from
Philadelphia," complained Cleo. "I wanted this kind and could not get
them around here. Now one is lost and the other useless."
"But we must not complain, Cleo," admonished the lieutenant pleasantly.
"It isn't good scouting, you know."
By this time the runaways, or lost sheep, had caught up with the
awaiting contingent. That they would be deluged with questions, and all
but stampeded for answers, was to be expected.
"It was an accident," Grace managed to inject finally. "Madie's foot
went blistered--and I hunted around for some--some medicated leaves,"
this was said in an apologetic tone, "and when the heel was all fixed
we were thoroughly lost."
Madaline sighed and smiled alternately, and agreed without venturing to
say so.
"Well, we are glad you met with no mishap," declared the lieutenant, to
whom girls lost in the woods was not a new adventure. "We were going
back for you just now. The trouble was we took the left road to look
for you, when, of course, you were hugging due right. Didn't you see
our trail?"
"Yes, after we struck it," responded spokes-man Grace. "We were so deep
in the cedar grove we had no chance to strike trails. Oh, girls, you
should see the wonderful picnic grounds we discovered!" she enthused,
with the very evident intention of getting Madaline's mind off the man
and the bag of wash. "It is a perfect little park, all carpeted with
pine needles, and canopied with the loveliest trees--"
"All right, Grace," cut in the lieutenant. "But come along. We must be
making tracks. No time just now for a panoramic view. We will certainly
have to take this hike all over again to compensate the girls for their
disappointment. However, no doubt we have learned something."
"You bet," Grace whispered to Madaline, as she fell into step for the
homeward march. "I learned that the bow-line will slip."
"Hush," begged Madaline. "I am not sure yet but that--you know--may be
after us."
"Wish it--you know, was," defied the other.
"What ever were you two up to?" asked Margaret, falling back to take
step with the refugees. "I am sure you were never fixing a single foot
all that time."
"We each had feet, you know," Grace quickly made answer. "And really
there are the most interesting things in that wood. I am going back
first chance--"
"You do!" threatened Madaline, with a glance Grace rightfully
interpreted. "I will never, as long as I live, go into the Cedar grove
again. It's too scary for words."
"I loved it," drawled Grace. "I am going again. See if I don't. Want to
come, Maggie?"
"Maybe, but just now I want an alibi for mother's promised watercress.
Grace, you are a great scout! You lure us all out here, with the most
tempting offer of prize watercress, and here we go home with a bunch of
last year's cattails. What shall we say to all our loved mothers, who
allowed us to cut house work for this wonderful afternoon?" asked
Margaret.
"Say that I, Grace Gollivar Philow, will go back first chance I get,
and fetch watercress for the whole community. Only next time I go, I am
going to fetch a gun--"
Margaret laughed, but Madaline shivered. Scout girls were supposed to
know how to use a gun, but fortunately Grace was still in the
Tenderfoot class. Perhaps before she could possibly get permission to
try gunning, she would have outgrown her tendency to capture tramps
with ostensibly stolen washes. Madaline sincerely hoped so.
When almost in town Grace gained an opportunity to whisper to Madaline:
"Now remember, Madie. Never a word. I am not sure my man got away, you
know. He may be tied up there yet. And also, I may get someone to go
with me and reclaim Mrs. Johnston's wash. I know about where it broke
loose."