THE LITTLE CAPTAIN'S STORY
David Brewster rose to his feet.
"If your ankle is all right now," he suggested hurriedly, "I had better
go."
"Why?" asked Madge innocently.
"I have some work to do," returned David.
"The same work that you do every afternoon?"
David bowed his head. "Yes," he replied. "See here, Miss Morton, there
isn't any reason why I shouldn't tell you what I do when off by myself
every afternoon. I don't want you to think that I am always up to some
dishonest kind of business." David flushed hotly. "I am only studying
when I hide off here in the woods. You see, I have always had to work
awfully hard; I never have had much time for schooling. But I don't want
the other fellows to get too far ahead of me, for I am going to college
some day, even if I am a grown man, when my chance comes."
"Good for _you_, David!" cried Madge, clapping her hands softly. "Of
course you will go to college if you have set your mind upon going. I
don't believe you are the kind of boy that gives up. You'll do most
anything you want to do some day."
David's face flushed under Madge's enthusiasm. "Oh, no, I won't," he
answered miserably. "There are some things a fellow can't live down."
"You mean this theft?" inquired Madge.
"Yes," nodded the boy. "Everyone believes me to be a common thief."
"But you didn't steal the things. I believe I know who took them,"
hazarded Madge; "that man and the old woman who were hiding in the
woods."
Madge saw at a glance that her guess was true. David gazed at her
helplessly. Then he shook his head. "Those people must have been far
away from this neighborhood when the things were taken," he replied.
"Oh, no, they weren't," retorted Madge. "The old woman was at the farm
the night of the fire, dressed up as 'Old Nokomis.' I wondered, at the
time, if she was not up to some kind of mischief. Then, later on, when
Nellie was lost, she saw the same man and woman. I believe they changed
their hiding place for fear they might be suspected of the theft, and
that we would send the sheriff to look for them."
"But why should I try to shield _them_, Miss Morton?" asked David
obstinately, "and how could I have the stolen goods if other people
took them?"
It was Madge's turn to flush and be silent. "Don't make me tell you why
I think you are trying to shield them, David, by taking the shame on
yourself," she pleaded. "You see, I believe I have guessed what those
people are to you."
"You can't have guessed," protested David hoarsely. "You don't know
anything of me or my people."
"Girls are good at guessing," explained Madge apologetically. "You see,
Miss Betsey told us that your father wasn't a very good kind of man, and
that he sometimes went away from home and wandered around the country
for a long time. And, and----" Madge hesitated. "At first when you spoke
to the man and old woman, I was just surprised at your knowing such
curious people. Then I began to think. The man looked something like
you, David. So I have just worked it out in my own mind that the man
took the things, and that you made him let you return them to Miss
Betsey and Mrs. Preston, and that you are willing to take the blame on
yourself because--because----" Madge hesitated again and looked down.
"Because the man is your father!" she said gently. "Am I right, David?
Please tell me."
David's face turned red, then white, then red again. "You think that
thief is my father, because I look like him, and because I am willing to
bear the burden of his guilt?" David was not conscious that he had at
last confessed to Madge that the man she suspected was the actual
robber!
"He is not my father," continued David passionately. "My father is good
for nothing; he comes of bad people, and he has dragged my mother down
with him. But he is not a thief! The man who stole the money from Miss
Betsey and the silver from the Prestons is my first cousin. He is a
great deal older than I am. His father was my father's eldest brother.
Hal used to live with us when I was a little boy, and I was fond of him
then. But he got too bad, even for us to stand, and he has since been
tramping around the country, stealing, or living any way that he could.
He would not give me back the things until I promised to take the blame
if anybody was suspected. He threatened to implicate me in the robbery
if I told any one, so I thought the best thing to do was to return the
things and let him go."
Madge's face was burning and her hands quite cold. "I am sure I beg your
pardon, David, with all my heart," she said humbly. "I know that you
never can forgive me for insulting your father. I ought not to have
tried to find out your secret. Once, long ago, a girl told my friends a
story about my father. She said that he had been disgraced when he was a
captain in the Navy, and had been dismissed from the service. It wasn't
true," faltered Madge, "but most people believed it. I had to try
awfully hard to forgive that girl when, later on, she asked me to pardon
her. So I don't even ask you to forgive me, David," she insisted
mournfully; "only you will believe me when I say that I am awfully sorry
for my mistake."
David was staring at her intently. "Forgive you," he replied. "Of course
I won't--because there is nothing to forgive. You have been the best
friend I ever had. To think that, even when you thought my father was a
thief and a tramp, you were still willing to believe in me and to be my
friend! You are simply great! Some day I am going to do something
splendid that will make you feel glad to know David Brewster." David
shook Madge's hand warmly, his eyes clear and untroubled for the first
time in their acquaintance. This girl had thought the worst of his
family and still had trusted him. No one with a faithful friend need
ever be discouraged.
Madge and David walked slowly back to the Preston house, across the
August fields. It was late afternoon. The boy and girl had talked
together for a long time under the old tree. They had confided to each
other many of their hopes and ambitions. They were not to see each other
alone again for a long time. But neither one of them was to forget that
summer afternoon.
At the front gate Madge turned and faced David squarely. Her charming
face wore an expression of stubborn determination.
"David Brewster, I have not promised your cousin to keep his secret, or
to let you be suspected of his crime. I am going to tell Mr. and Mrs.
Preston and Miss Betsey that you did not steal their property, and that
just as soon as I get inside the house."
David shook his head resolutely. "I thought I could trust you, Madge."
"You can," urged Madge. "Only, please, don't be so stubborn. It can't
hurt your cousin for me to tell what he has done. Mr. Preston and Miss
Betsey have never seen him and they will both promise never to try to
punish him for the theft. They have their things back, so they are not
hurt, except by----"
"By what?" asked David unsuspiciously.
"By their lack of faith in you, David," answered Madge convincingly. "It
hurts awfully to be deceived in people. Miss Betsey cried all night, and
Mr. Preston ate hardly any breakfast or luncheon, they have been so
unhappy over you."
The little captain thought she saw signs of relenting in David's face.
"Do let me tell," she pleaded. "I really can't bear it, if you don't,"
she ended in characteristic Madge-fashion.
David smiled and nodded.
Without waiting to give him a chance to change his mind she ran into the
house and up the front steps. The three girls and the motor launch boys
had returned and were wondering what had become of her. Madge swept them
all before her into the Preston library. Then, summoning her host and
hostess, Miss Betsey and Miss Jenny Ann, Madge told David's story.
Perhaps she made him a hero in explaining how he was willing to take his
cousin's crime on his own shoulders, rather than have Miss Betsey and
Mrs. Preston lose their property, but at least, after she had finished,
there was no one present who did not have a feeling of admiration for
David, who had tried to do his duty even at the expense of his good
name.