Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: The "Sea Gull" and the "Merry Maid" Began their Voyage.
_Frontispiece._]
Madge Morton's Trust
By
AMY D. V. CHALMERS
Author of Madge Morton, Captain of the Merry Maid; Madge
Morton's Secret, Madge Morton's Victory.
PHILADELPHIA
HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY HOWARD E. ALTEMUS
CONTENTS
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. A LATE ARRIVAL 7
II. THE DOCTOR'S SUGGESTION 17
III. DAVID FINDS A FRIEND 27
IV. THE SEARCH 40
V. PULLING UP ANCHOR FOR NEW SCENES 52
VI. WANDERLUST 60
VII. THE RESCUE 72
VIII. THE MOTOR BOAT DISASTER 84
IX. LEAVING THE HOUSEBOAT TO TAKE CARE OF ITSELF 96
X. A GHOST STORY 104
XI. THE FEAST OF MONDAMIN 112
XII. A BOY'S TEMPTATION 124
XIII. ELEANOR GETS INTO MISCHIEF 137
XIV. "CONFUSION WORSE CONFOUNDED" 149
XV. THE BLACK HOLE 158
XVI. THE BETTER MAN 169
XVII. THE BIRTH OF SUSPICION 181
XVIII. DAVID'S MYSTERIOUS ERRAND 191
XIX. GHOSTS OF THE PAST 200
XX. THE FANCY DRESS PARTY 213
XXI. THE INTERRUPTION 221
XXII. MADGE MORTON'S TRUST 232
XXIII. THE LITTLE CAPTAIN'S STORY 241
XXIV. "GOOD LUCK TO THE BRIDE" 248
Madge Morton's Trust
CHAPTER I
A LATE ARRIVAL
It was a particularly hot day in early July. A girl came out on the back
porch of an old-fashioned New England house and dropped into a hammock.
She looked tired, but her big black eyes were eager with interest.
She held a fat letter in her hand which contained many pages. At the top
of the letter was a pen-and-ink drawing of a miniature houseboat with
five girls running about on the deck, their hair blowing, their skirts
awry. One of them held a broom in her hand; she was the domestic
Eleanor! Another waved a frying pan; Miss Jenny Ann Jones, Chief Cook
and Chaperon! The third girl was drying her long, blonde hair in the
sun; Miss Lillian Seldon, the beauty of the houseboat party!
The girl in the hammock recognized herself: she was feeding a
weird-looking animal on four legs with a spoon. And standing among the
others, apparently talking as fast as she possibly could, and doing no
work of any kind, was a young woman whom the artist had carefully
labeled "Madge."
Phyllis Alden laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks. She could
not recall having laughed in two months, and she was sure she would keep
on giggling as long as she read her letter.
"Miss Alden"--a woman in the uniform of a professional nurse appeared at
the door--"your mother says do you know where the twins are? She is
restless about them. I promised her I would come to you. I am sorry to
disturb you; I know you are tired."
"Not a bit of it, Miss Brazier," insisted Phil stoutly. "Those dreadful
babies! I had forgotten I had not seen them in the last half hour. Of
course, they are in mischief. I will look for them right away."
Phil thrust her precious letter into her blouse. It was four o'clock in
the afternoon and her letter from her chum had arrived in the morning
post. These were busy days for Phyllis Alden. Early in May she had been
called home from school by the illness of her mother. Since that time
the care of her father's house and looking after the irrepressible twins
had been Phyllis's work. Her mother was better now, on the sure road to
convalescence, and Phil had begun to confess to herself that she was
tired.
At one side of the house there was a rain-barrel. It was strictly
forbidden territory, so Phil knew at once where to look for the twins.
Hanging over the edge of the barrel were two fat little girls with tight
black curls. They were bent double and were fishing for queer, bobbing
things that floated on the surface of the rainwater. A firm hand caught
Daisy by one leg. Dot, terrified by her big sister's sudden appearance,
tumbled into the barrel with a gasp and a splash.
Phil felt half-vexed; still, she was obliged to laugh at the little
ones, they looked so utterly roguish.
"Frog in the middle, can't get out," she teased the small girl in the
center of the barrel. Then she fished Dot out and started with both
little maids for the house to make them presentable before dinner.
Phyllis knew that they must both be washed and dressed before she would
have another chance to peep at her precious letter. Still, it comforted
her to think how amused her Madge would be by her funny little
four-year-old twin sisters and their mischievous ways.
It was just before dinner time when Phyllis firmly locked her bedroom
door and took her precious letter from her blouse. She would read it
now, or die in the effort. It began:
"DEAR OLD PHIL:
"I am not writing you from 'Forest House,' but from no other
place than the famous old city of Boston, Massachusetts. I came
here the other day because I believed I would find news of my
father, but I was disappointed and am going back home in a few
days.
"But I don't want to write about myself; I want to write about
you, dear old Phil! I am so glad your mother is better. When she
is quite well, can't you come to visit Nellie and me at 'Forest
House'? We have missed you so. The Commencement exercises at
Miss Tolliver's were no fun at all this year. When Miss Matilda
got up and announced that Miss Phyllis Alden had been called
home before the final spring examination because of the illness
of her mother, and would, therefore, be passed on to the senior
class of her preparatory school on account of her high standing
in her classes, I cheered for all I was worth, and so did every
one else.
"Ah, Phil, dear, it has been ages since last I saw you! I would
give all my curls, and my hair really makes a long braid
nowadays, if I could only see you. How I wish we could spend the
rest of this summer on our beautiful houseboat! The poor little
'Merry Maid'! How lonely she must be without us. Tom Curtis and
Jack Bolling wrote and asked me to let them tow us up the
Rappahannock River this summer. They are going on a motor trip.
But, alas and alack! we haven't any money to pay our expenses,
so I fear there will be no houseboat party this summer. It's
dreadfully sad, but, more than anything else, I regret not
seeing you, Phil. With my dearest love. Write soon. Your devoted
"MADGE."
Phyllis finished her letter with a warm feeling around her heart but a
sigh on her lips. No "Merry Maid" this summer! Well, Phyllis had not
expected it, yet it seemed cruel to think of the four girls and Miss
Jones being separated for another year from their "Ship of Dreams,"
where they had spent two wonderful holidays.
The story of how Madge Morton, Phyllis Alden, Lillian Seldon and Eleanor
Butler came into possession of a houseboat is fully set forth in the
first volume of this series, entitled "MADGE MORTON, CAPTAIN OF THE
'MERRY MAID.'" The happy summer spent by the four young women on board
the "Merry Maid," chaperoned by Miss Jenny Ann Jones, one of the
teachers in the boarding school which they attended, was one long to be
remembered.
While anchored in a quiet bit of water, a part of the great Chesapeake
Bay, they made many friends, chief among whom were Mrs. Curtis, a
wealthy widow, and her son Tom. Mrs. Curtis's instant liking for Madge,
her subsequent offer to adopt her, and the remarkable manner in which
Madge and Phyllis were instrumental in discovering their friend's own
daughter, who had been lost at sea years before, in a poor fisher girl
whom they rescued from her cruel foster father, formed a lively
narrative.
"MADGE MORTON'S SECRET" told of the girls' second sojourn on their
houseboat, which was anchored near Old Point Comfort. There the girls
saw much of the social life of the Army and Navy, and it was while there
that Madge incurred the enmity of a young woman named Flora Harris, who
made the little captain's life very unpleasant for a time.
The mysterious cutting of the "Merry Maid's" cable on a stormy night,
the voyaging of the little boat out into the bay, and the island shore
to which she drifted in the gray dawn, and how, after living the life of
young Crusoes for many weeks, they were rescued and returned to their
sorrowing friends, made absorbing reading for those interested in
following the fortunes of Madge Morton.
But to go back to the subject of Phyllis Alden: She and her father, Dr.
Alden, were firm friends. Every evening since her mother's illness they
had taken a walk together after the twins were safely tucked in bed. It
was a pleasure to which they both looked forward all day. To-night they
were late in getting away from the house, and, as they strolled along
through the quiet streets, Phyllis was unusually silent. She had told
her father of Madge's letter, but she had not mentioned her invitation
to visit Madge and Nellie at their home in Virginia. Phil did not think
she could be spared from home and did not wish to worry her father. Yet
all the time that Phil was so silent Dr. Alden was wondering where he
could send Phyllis to spend a well-earned holiday. He did not have much
money to spare, but his beloved daughter must somehow be given a rest.
Phyllis and her father were almost home again when the girl thought she
heard some one running behind them. She turned with apprehensive
suddenness. The night was dark and the streets were narrow; only at the
corners the electric lamps made bright, open spaces. Under one of these
lights Phyllis looked back fearfully. She could barely discern a figure.
It was walking close to the fence and seemed to be carrying something.
Phil could not discover what it was, and Dr. Alden, who was slightly
deaf, heard nothing.
Suddenly a watchdog set up a furious barking and rushed out into the
street. Phil felt more secure. If any one were lurking in the shadow
with the thought of attacking her father, the dog would surely come to
their rescue. Yet now she could hear six feet pattering after them
instead of two. The dog must have been won over by their enemy.
"Father"--Phil put her hand nervously on her father's arm; she was not
herself to-night; she was tired and full of unexpressed longings for her
friends--"wait!" Phil ended her sentence abruptly. Some one distinctly
called her name, "Phil!" it echoed down the empty street.
Dr. Alden and his daughter both turned. Yet it was impossible to see any
great distance beyond them. They were in the light, while the shadows
down the sidewalk were densely black. Some one was coming toward them,
though it was difficult to know if it were a man or a woman.
Straight into Phil's arms whirled a breathless girl, her hat on one
side, her curly hair tumbling down and her eyes as bright as the
fireflies that flickered through the dark streets. The girl carried a
heavy suit case, and a large dog walked protectingly at her side.
It was Madge Morton. She had arrived alone and unannounced in the city
of Hartford at a perfectly incredible hour of the night!
Dr. Alden was overcome with surprise. He had heard Phil give a cry of
rapture, saw a suit case drop to the ground, then two girls meet in a
joyful embrace.
"I might have known you would come when I needed you most, Madge," cried
Phil rapturously. Phil was not really surprised by her chum's
appearance. She knew that the most astonishing things in the world were
just the things that Madge Morton would do as though they were the most
natural.
"Is your mother better?" whispered Madge. "For goodness' sake, Phil,
dear girl, let me tell your father who I am and how I happened to appear
at this unearthly hour." Madge put her hand into the doctor's. "Please
forgive me, Dr. Alden," she began. "I wrote Phil I was in Boston and
about to start for home. I was on the way to the depot to buy my ticket
when suddenly I remembered that I wasn't so far from dear Phil. I have
been wanting to see her so dreadfully. So I just telegraphed Uncle and
Aunt that I was going to stop over in Hartford a few hours.
"Of course, we had a wreck on the train, so here I am, only six hours
late. When I came in at the station to-night I just inquired what car I
should take to bring me to your address. And wasn't it funny? I saw you
and Phil cross the street at the corner, so I jumped off the car and
ran after you. I thought this old dog was going to eat me up, but the
dear old fellow has adopted me instead."
Madge patted the strange dog affectionately with her left hand. Phil had
never let go of her right one.
"I hope you will forgive my dropping in on you like this. I am ashamed
of myself, but I just had to have a look at Phil."
"You've dropped from heaven! You are an angel unawares, Madge Morton,"
vowed practical Phil Alden in devout tones. "I was never so glad to see
anybody in my life. Now, if you leave me to-morrow, I shall surely die."
Madge laughed happily. How good it seemed to be with dear old Phil once
more. Dr. Alden picked up her suit case and looked at her with earnest,
kindly eyes.
"Daughter," he said kindly, "I am almost as pleased to see you as Phil
is. Come home with us. You must be worn out from your journey."
For the first time Madge realized that she was a little tired and that
she had been a little frightened at arriving alone in a strange city at
night. But then she was with Phil.