AT THE MERCY OF THE WAVES
"Don't you think it would be perfectly lovely to have a mother as rich
and beautiful as Mrs. Curtis?" asked Madge, as she tied a black velvet
ribbon about her auburn curls and turned her head to see the effect.
She and Phil were dressing for Tom Curtis's sailing party, to which he
had invited them the day before and which was to start within the next
hour.
"Almost any mother is pretty nice, even if she isn't rich or
beautiful," answered Phil loyally. She was wearing a yachting suit of
navy blue while Madge was dressed in white serge. Eleanor, Lillian and
Miss Jones, clad in white linen gowns, were ready and waiting on the
houseboat deck for the arrival of the sailing party. True to his word,
Tom Curtis had brought his mother to call on the four girls the
afternoon of the day before.
"I know," answered Madge slowly. "But sometimes, when I was a very
little girl, I liked to think that perhaps I was a princess in
disguise, and that Uncle and Aunt had never told me of it. I used to
look out of the window and wonder if some day a carriage would drive up
to hear me away to my royal home. That doesn't sound very practical,
does it? But, when one has no memory of father or mother, one can't
help dreaming things. Don't you think Mrs. Curtis is simply
beautiful?" Madge abruptly changed the subject. "Her hair is so soft
and white, and she has such a young face, but she looks as though she
were tired of everything. Persons who have that wonderful, world-weary
look are so interesting," finished Madge, with a sigh. "I am afraid I
shall never have that expression, because I never find time to get
tired of things."
"Come on, Madge," laughed Phil. "You can mourn some other day over not
having an interesting expression."
"Girls," called Lillian, "the Curtis's boat is coming."
"In a minute," answered Madge, giving a final pat to her curls.
"Do hurry along, children. The sailboat is nearly here." This time it
was Miss Jenny Ann's voice. "They signaled us several minutes ago.
They have several other persons on board."
Mrs. Curtis and Tom signaled as they approached the "Merry Maid."
Their guests were the artist, whom the girls had met the day before,
Jack Bolling, and one or two strangers from the big summer hotel. Mike
Muldoon, the owner of the boats, had another sailor on board to help
him. Tom soon transferred the girls and their chaperon from their
craft to his. The party intended to sail down the coast to a point of
land known as Love Point and to eat their luncheon somewhere along the
shore.
Mrs. Curtis sat across from Madge during their sailing trip, but every
now and then she would look over to laugh at one of the young girl's
amusing sallies. It was evident that the little captain of the "Merry
Maid" had found favor in her eyes. Mrs. Curtis had planned a dainty
luncheon, to which the steward at the hotel had given special
attention, even to the sending of a man to serve it. There were
delicious sandwiches of various kinds, chicken and Waldorf salads,
olives, salted nuts, individual ices sent down from Baltimore and
bonbons. It was quite the most elaborate luncheon the girls had ever
eaten and they were rather impressed with both it and the service.
After luncheon the party sat for a long time on the clean, white sand,
laughing and talking gayly. It was a perfect day and everyone was in
the best possible spirits. Later on they divided into little groups.
Lillian and Phil wandered off with Jack Bolling. Eleanor found a
congenial companion in one of the young women guests from the hotel,
while Tom, Miss Jones and Mrs. Curtis sat under a tree with the artist,
watching him sketch. Madge, alone, flitted from one group to another,
a little, restless spirit.
"Why don't you take Miss Morton for a sail, Tom?" suggested his mother.
"You will have time to go a short distance out. We shall not start for
the hotel until four o'clock."
"A good suggestion. Thank you, Mother," cried Tom. "Come on, Miss
Morton."
Madge and Tom went gayly down to the boat. Tom's big setter dog,
Brownie, dashed after them, pleading so hard to be taken aboard that
Tom at last consented to have him, though he gravely assured the animal
that three was a crowd, to which statement Brownie merely gave a joyful
yelp and darted on board without further ceremony.
[Illustration: Madge and Tom went gayly down to the boat.]
It was a glorious day with a stiff breeze blowing. The water was
fairly choppy, but the boat sped along, occasionally dashing the spray
into the two young faces. Madge wore a white cloth cap, with a visor,
such as ship's officers wear, and looked as nautical as she felt. Both
Tom and Madge were possessed with an unusual fondness for the water,
and their common love of the sea was a strong bond between them.
"Have you ever heard of any one who could have locked you up in the old
hut that night?" Tom asked as they sailed along.
Madge shook her head. "No; I have not the faintest idea. To tell you
the honest truth, I had almost forgotten that unpleasant experience.
We have been having such a beautiful time since that we haven't had
time to think of disagreeable things."
"Do you think it is safe for five women to be aboard that houseboat by
themselves?" asked Tom anxiously. "If your boat were farther out on
the water you would be safer."
Madge laughed merrily. "Look here, Mr. Curtis, I don't think it is
fair for you to question our safety when there are five of us, Wouldn't
Phil be angry if she heard you say that! It makes her furious to hear
a man or boy even intimate that girls can't take care of themselves.
Why, we can swim and run and jump, and we could put up a really brave
fight if it were necessary. Besides, Nell and I know how to shoot.
Uncle taught us when we were very little girls. I have been duck
shooting with him along this very bay. Look at that rowboat back
there. I have been watching it for some time. It has been trying to
follow us."
Tom turned about. The boat was only a skiff, and, though it was nearly
in their course, there was no chance of its coming any closer, as their
boat was sailing before the wind.
"I believe it is the same skiff I saw this morning," commented Tom. "I
suppose it is some fellow who has been fishing out here. Just think of
the fish in this wonderful bay--perch and pike and bass and a hundred
other kinds! You must help me catch some of them some day."
"All right, I will," promised Madge merrily. As they went farther out
into the bay they grew strangely silent. The spell of the sea was upon
them and they were content to sail along, exchanging but little
conversation. Chesapeake Bay was apparently in one of its most amiable
moods and, lured on by its apparent good nature, Tom grew a trifle more
reckless than was his wont and did not turn about to begin the homeward
sail as soon as he had originally intended.
It was Madge who broke the spell. "I think we had better start back.
Perhaps I merely imagine it, but it seems to me that the sun isn't
shining as brightly as it shone a little while ago. I know the bay so
well. It is so wonderful, but so treacherous. I was once out on it in
a sailboat during a sudden squall and I am not likely to forget it."
Madge gave a slight shudder at the recollection.
"All right," agreed Tom, "I'll turn about, but there isn't the
slightest danger of a squall to-day." He brought his little craft
about and headed toward the beach.
In spite of his assurance that there would he no squall, a black,
threatening cloud had appeared in the sky, and now the wind shifted,
blowing strongly toward land. Tom, who was nothing if not a sailor,
managed the boat so skilfully that Madge's apprehensions were soon
quieted and she gave herself up to the complete enjoyment of rushing
along in the freshened breeze.
They were within a mile of their landing place when, off to their right
and a little ahead of them, Madge spied the rowboat they had seen at
the beginning of their sail.
The boat was now tossing idly on the waves, and its sole occupant, a
young man, was trying vainly to guide it with a single oar.
"There is that boat again," called Madge to Tom, who was busy with his
sails. "I believe the young man in it is in trouble and is signaling
to us for help."
As Tom drew nearer to the rowboat the other man in it called out: "Say,
can't you take me aboard? I've lost an oar, and it's a pretty tough
job trying to get ashore with one oar in a sea like this."
Tom glanced quickly at Madge. He was quite ready to help the young
man, but wished to be sure that his young woman guest had no objection
to the stranger coming aboard their boat.
It took five minutes to bring the sailboat close enough to pick up the
man. Tom threw him a rope and the stranger climbed aboard, making fast
his rowboat to the stern of the sailing vessel. He was a peculiar,
wild-looking fellow, with dark, shifting eyes and thick, curly hair
that partly covered his ears. As be stepped into the sailboat his lips
parted in a smile that showed his teeth, which Madge noted were long,
very white and pointed at the ends. He was deeply tanned, yet, in
spite of his rough appearance, seemed to be a gentleman.
"You are very kind," he said in a low, purring voice which caused Madge
to eye him sharply. "I would not have troubled you, but there is a
heavy squall coming up. I shall be greatly obliged to you if you will
put me ashore."
"All right," assented Tom. "We are in a hurry to get to shore
ourselves, as my mother will be anxious if the storm catches us."
Madge had continued to gaze at the new-comer. "Where have I seen him
before? He is like a wolf. His teeth look almost like fangs, and I
don't like his strange, shifting eyes," she mentally criticised.
Aloud she said to Tom: "Miss Jenny Ann will be worried. She has been
very nervous about us since we were locked in that old cabin in the
woods overnight."
The stranger regarded Madge quizzically. She could have sworn that a
mocking light lay in his dark eyes. "Did you say you were locked in an
old cabin in the woods overnight? How unfortunate."
"It will be more unfortunate for the fellow who locked the girls in,
provided we find him," threatened Tom shortly. The stranger's suave
tones aroused in him a peculiar feeling of antagonism.
The young man regarded Tom through half-shut eyes. "I must ask you to
land me on the beach above here," he drawled.
"Sorry," answered Tom firmly. "I don't know any other pier along here
except ours. I told you I was in a hurry to go ashore. I don't like
to be disobliging, but you will have to go to our landing with us."
The black clouds were now chasing one another across the sky, and the
wind made a curious whistling noise. Nevertheless the boat was sailing
gloriously, and in spite of the oncoming squall Tom and Madge were
enjoying themselves immensely, though neither of them was much pleased
with their fellow traveler.
The stranger turned to Madge. "You must tell your friend that he'll
have to land me somewhere else than in that picnic party," he muttered
hoarsely. "I tell you I have a reason. I do not want to meet any
society folks."
"I am sorry," answered Madge distantly, her eyes growing stormy at the
young man's peremptory tone. "Mr. Curtis explained to you why we are
in a hurry to land. As long as he took you aboard our boat with us as
a favor, you have no right to ask us to change our course."
The stranger clenched his fists and glanced angrily at Tom.
"Ain't you going to land me somewhere else first?" he demanded in a
snarling voice.
Tom quietly shook his head. The sailboat was now only a little more
than half a mile from the pier. The wind was fair, blowing them almost
straight to the pier.
Tom Curtis was not looking. Suddenly the fellow sprang up and threw
the tiller over. The boat jibed sharply. Madge cried out in quick
alarm. Her cry saved Tom Curtis from being knocked overboard by the
boom as it swung over to the other side of the boat.
"Keep away from this tiller," Tom called out angrily, seeing that their
boat had now entirely changed its course. "I am sailing this boat."
"You are not sailing her, if you don't take her in where I say," the
intruder declared fiercely. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth
closed together with a snap. He stood by as if he were going to spring
at Tom Curtis.
Madge's cheeks were burning. She was so angry that her throat felt dry
and parched. "Don't pay any attention to him," she called indignantly.
Tom Curtis hesitated.
"I don't fight when I have a woman guest on board the boat," he
declared doggedly. "Once I run my boat in to the pier, you will answer
for this."
"Never mind threatening me: I'm not afraid of you. You know you have
got to land me where I say. What do you care about where you land? It
is where _I_ land that is important." Again the stranger made a rush
for the tiller.
Tom sprang upon him. The two were evenly matched, and Madge held her
breath as she watched them struggle. Brownie, Tom's setter dog, sprang
for the stranger's leg, then retreated to one end of the boat howling
with pain. The intruder had swung back his foot and dealt the dog a
savage kick.
The rain had now begun to fall heavily, and the deck soon became
slippery as glass. The two young men continued to struggle. Tom
realized that he was endangering Madge's life, as well as his own, in
this reckless battle on the deck of a small boat. He thought he now
had the advantage. If he could only settle his hateful passenger with
one swift blow all would he well. With this thought in mind he tore
himself from the grasp of his antagonist, but he had forgotten the
slippery deck. His foot shot out from under him, and he went down in a
heap, falling heavily on one shoulder. The stranger sprang upon him,
and now it was the ungrateful passenger who had the advantage and was
mercilessly pushing him with both arms toward the edge of the boat.
Slowly Tom gave way, inch by inch. He was conscious of a racking pain
in his shoulder. He tried to raise his right arm; then a feeling of
faintness swept over him, he reeled, and, before Madge could move to
his help, Tom Curtis fell backward into the water.