LEAVING THE HOUSEBOAT TO TAKE CARE OF ITSELF
"I should dearly love it," declared Eleanor.
"I think it would be a great lark," agreed Lillian.
"Are you sure you would like it, Miss Betsey?" asked Phyllis and Miss
Jenny Ann in the same breath.
"I certainly should," Miss Betsey asserted positively.
Madge was unusually silent. She had been in such deep disgrace since her
escapade, both with Miss Taylor and Miss Jenny Ann, that she felt she
had no right to express her opinion in regard to any possible plan. But
her eyes were dancing under her long lashes, which she kept discreetly
down.
Miss Taylor had just suggested that, in view of the fact that Tom Curtis
was obliged to take his motor launch to the nearest large town to have
it repaired, and their excursion up the river must cease for a time, the
houseboat party desert the river bank and spend ten days or more farther
inland.
George Robinson had offered to go back with Tom. David Brewster
expected to do as he was ordered, but Harry Sears and Jack Bolling
positively refused to give up their holiday. And there was no room for
them on the houseboat.
Eleanor and Lillian had come back from the old farmhouse, where they had
spent the day before, filled with enthusiasm. Mr. and Mrs. Preston were
the most delightful people they had ever met. Their house was filled
with the loveliest old mahogany and silver, and they had no visitors and
no family. Eleanor was sure that, if she begged her prettiest, Mrs.
Preston could be persuaded to take them all in her home until Tom came
back with his motor launch.
"You see, Jenny Ann," entreated Eleanor, with her hands clasped
together, "every year Mr. Preston has the most wonderful entertainment.
He told us all about it. In August he gives what he calls 'The Feast of
the Corn.' All the country people for miles around come to it. He asked
me to bring every member of our party over for it at the end of the
week. It's just like Hiawatha's feast. Do let's ask them to take us in,
if only for a little while."
Miss Betsey Taylor's New England imagination was fired. The house that
Eleanor described was just such a Virginia home as she had dreamed of in
her earlier days. She must see it. Also, Lillian had related the story
of a wonderful sulphur well not many miles from the Preston estate.
Miss Betsey was sure that sulphur water would be good for her nerves.
Two days later the entire party stood out on the deck of the "Merry
Maid" to see Tom and George Robinson start off with their broken-down
motor launch before the rest of the party moved over to wait for them at
the Preston farm.
"I am so sorry, Tom," apologized Madge, with her eyes full of remorse.
"It is really my fault that you will have to miss this part of our
holiday. I wish I could go back with the boat instead of you. Can't you
send David and stay here with us?"
Tom shook his head. He was ashamed of his previous grumbling. "Of course
not. It wasn't your fault. The engine would have broken down just the
same if I hadn't been searching the river for you. But I must see to its
being mended myself, and Robinson is a brick to go along with me. I
shall have no use for Brewster. Perhaps, after all, we may be able to
get back in time for the Indian feast. Good-bye, Madge."
A few minutes after the launch was seen moving back down the river,
being ignominiously towed by an old horse, the same gay craft that had
proudly advanced up the stream only a few days before with the "Merry
Maid" in her wake.
The houseboat party waved Tom and George a sad farewell, and then
promptly forgot almost all about them in the excitement of moving their
clothes and a few other possessions up to the farm, Eleanor having
persuaded the Prestons to take them for a few days as boarders.
Mrs. Preston drove down in her own phaeton to take Miss Betsey and Miss
Jenny Ann home with her. A farm hand came with a wagon for the trunks.
But the young people decided to walk. The Preston house was only two
miles away from the houseboat landing. Sam, the colored boy, who had
been Lillian's and Eleanor's original guide to the farm, had been
engaged to show them the way.
The houseboat party formed a gay procession. None of the four girls wore
hats. Lillian and Eleanor, who took some care of their complexions,
carried pink and blue parasols to match their linen gowns, but Madge and
Phil bared their heads to the sun, as did Harry Sears, Jack Bolling and
David.
Sam lugged a lunch basket, which Mrs. Preston had sent down to the
party; and David, who kept in the rear, carried a dress suit case that
had accidentally been left behind.
Most of the road ran past meadows and orchards, with few houses in
sight. The ripening fruits made the air heavy with their summer
sweetness. David was shy and silent, as usual, but the others were in
gay humor.
Beyond a broken-down rail fence Phil espied a tree laden with luscious
peaches. Farther on, past the orchard, she could just catch the outline
of a house.
"Let's get some fruit, Jack?" Phil suggested to Bolling, who was walking
with her. They both climbed over the fence.
"Wait a minute, everybody," Phil called. "Wouldn't you like to go up to
the old house back there to ask for some water. I am nearly dead, I am
so thirsty."
"Don't go in that thar place," Sam entreated, turning around suddenly,
his brown face ashen, "and don't eat them peaches. The house is a ha'nt
and them peaches is hoodooed."
Eleanor and Madge burst into peals of laughter. The other young people,
who were not Southerners, smiled and stared.
"What is a hoodoo, Sam?" Harry Sears, whose home was in Boston, inquired
teasingly.
Sam scratched his head. "I can't splain it," he announced. "But you'll
know a hoodoo all right if it gets hold of you. That young lady and
man'll sure have bad luck if they eat them peaches. Nobody'll touch 'em
around here."
"A hoodoo is a kind of wicked charm, like the evil eye, Harry," Madge
explained, her eyes twinkling. "All we Southerners believe in it, don't
we, Sam? Go and warn Miss Alden and Mr. Bolling, David. They must not
bring bad luck on themselves without knowing it." Madge had not meant to
order David Brewster to do what she wished; she merely requested him to
take her message, as she would any one of the other boys.
David looked stolidly ahead and made Madge no answer. He was in a black
humor. He had reasons of his own for not wishing to stay near the place
where he had discovered Madge. He had hoped that Tom would take him down
the river in the motor launch, but Tom had believed that he was doing
David a favor by allowing him to remain with the others to enjoy the
holiday on the farm.
"Don't you hear Miss Morton, Brewster?" shouted Harry Sears angrily.
"She told you to tell Miss Alden something." Harry Sears was always
particularly disagreeable with David. To-day his anger seemed justified.
A wave of crimson swept over David's brown face. He looked as though he
would have liked to leap on Harry Sears and throw him into the dust.
Only the presence of the girls and Madge's quick action deterred him.
"Never mind anybody telling Phil and Jack," she added quietly. "It's too
late to save them now. Besides, I want a peep at Sam's 'ha'nted house'
and a drink of water from the ghost's well. So follow me, good people,
if you are not afraid."
Phyllis and Jack Bolling led the way to the haunted house, as the place
had been their discovery. The old house had been a beautiful one in its
day. It was built of shingles that had mellowed to the beautiful shade
of gray that only time can give. The front door hung loosely on its
hinges. Spider-webs obscured the windows, with their narrow diamond
panes of broken glass. Rank weeds grew everywhere and poison ivy hung in
long branches from the ancient trees. To the left, where the old garden
had once been, there was a glory of scarlet poppies and cornflowers
growing amid the weeds. Their triumphant beauty had repeated itself year
after year here in this neglected spot with no one to marvel at it.
Madge, Eleanor and Lillian gathered great bunches of the red and blue
flowers. Phyllis and Jack discovered the well, with its crystal cold
water. Harry Sears prowled about near the old house, with Sam at his
heels. The boy was frightened, but too faithful to desert his party.
David kept at some distance from the others.
"Don't you think this a good place to eat the luncheon Mrs. Preston has
given us?" Harry called out, poised on the broken steps that led up to
the tumbled-down front porch. "The well is here to supply us with water
and I'm jolly hungry."
The houseboat travelers formed a circle on the grass just in front of
the old house. Sam spread out the luncheon. It was a warm day, the
clouds hung low in the sky and the garden was humming with honey-full
bees.
There was nothing mysterious about the place that Sam described as
"ha'nted," except that it was entirely deserted.
Harry Sears reached out for a sandwich. "Tell us why this old house is
supposed to be inhabited by ghosts, Sam," he ordered.