MADGE COMES INTO HER OWN AGAIN
Lillian and Eleanor were in the houseboat kitchen, making chocolate
fudge and a caramel cake.
"I think it will be too funny for anything," laughed Eleanor. "Let's
keep your surprise a secret from the others. It will be a delightful
way to celebrate Madge's return. Do you know that we have a hundred
and one things to do today?" she added, stirring her cake batter as
fast as she could. "This boat must be cleaned from stem to stern. I
told the boy from the farm to be here at nine o'clock this morning to
scrub the deck. He hasn't put in his appearance yet. I wonder which
one of us can be spared to go and hurry him along?"
"Let's ask Miss Jenny Ann," suggested Lillian slyly. "She has done her
share of the work already, and Mr. Brown is sketching the old garden
near the farmhouse. Haven't you noticed that our chaperon has been
very much interested in art lately? Mr. Brown wishes to paint a
picture of our houseboat. He has a fancy for this neighborhood. He
thinks it is so picturesque. 'Straws show which way the wind blows,'
you know. Watch the candy for me. I'll go ask Miss Jenny Ann if she
will go out and round up our faithless boy."
Miss Jones was quite willing to go, and started out, leaving the girls
to their cleaning. Every now and then they were seized with a desire
to work, which caused them to fall upon the houseboat and clean it from
end to end. This morning the fever had been upon them from the time
they had risen, and by the time Miss Jenny Ann started upon her errand
it was in full swing.
Jack Bolling and Tom Curtis were to bring Madge home late in the
afternoon, and, as a surprise for Madge, the boys had been invited to
remain to tea. It was therefore quite necessary that their floating
home should be well swept and garnished.
"Where's Phil?" asked Lillian, stepping from the kitchen out onto the
deck, where Eleanor had gone after having seen her cake safely in the
oven.
There came a series of raps on the cabin roof. Phil leaned over among
the honeysuckle vines on the upper deck. "I am up here, maiden,
digging in our window boxes. Want me for anything?"
"No," returned Eleanor, as she vanished inside the kitchen again. "But
sing out if you see Miss Jenny Ann and the boy coming."
A little while later Phil saw the figure of a young man coming slowly
down the path toward the houseboat. She thought, of course, that it
was the boy from the farm. She did not turn around. She was too
deeply engrossed in pulling up the weeds that had mysteriously appeared
in their window boxes. When his footsteps sounded on the floor of the
lower deck she called out carelessly, "Miss Seldon and Miss Butler are
in the cabin waiting for you. Miss Jones is not here. I suppose she
gave you the message."
The youth, who had been moving cautiously toward the houseboat, was not
the boy for whom the girls were waiting. This one had black, curly
hair and wild dark eyes. He looked up and down the shore. There was
no one in sight.
Although there were several farmhouses beyond the embankment that
sloped down to the inlet of the bay, there was no house within calling
distance of the "Merry Maid." Their boat was anchored to the pier only
a few yards from the shore, tied firmly to one of the upstanding posts.
The youth grinned maliciously. He decided that he had met with an
unexpected stroke of good luck. He was hungry and penniless. Nothing
could be easier than to terrify the girls on board into submission,
take what money and food they had, and be off with it before any one
appeared to help them. If it was a desperate venture, well, he must
take a desperate chance. He could not wander around in the woods
forever with no food or money.
Meanwhile Phil had not once glanced behind her. "You'd better begin
scrubbing at once," she directed. "We have been waiting for you a long
time. We wish to get our houseboat in order. We are going to give a
party for our friends. Do hurry, there is such a lot to do."
The young man below was not troubling himself about the amount of work
to be done; he had other matters to consider. This girl on top the
cabin deck was evidently expecting some one. She would not come down
her little ladder unless she heard a noise or disturbance from below.
The next question was, how many girls were on board and where were they?
Eleanor and Lillian had finished the cake and the fudge. They had
brought them into the living room and set them on the table to wait for
the evening tea party. Eleanor was tired.
She had thrown herself down on a lounge and her eyes were closed.
Lillian, with her back to the door, stood talking to her friend. They
did not hear the intruder's light footfalls.
Suddenly Lillian felt her two hands caught roughly behind her in such a
powerful grasp that she staggered back. Eleanor sprang from the couch,
opening her eyes in amazement! She saw Lillian struggling with a man
whose face wore the expression of a hungry animal.
"Don't scream," he ordered harshly. "Give me what food and money you
have and I will let you go. If you scream, you will be sorry." He
glared savagely at the two girls.
Lillian tried to wrench her hands from his grasp. They were pinioned
so tightly behind her that she could not move. Eleanor slipped off her
divan. She and Lillian had no weapons with which to defend themselves.
Eleanor thought if she could get out of the room, while the man held
Lillian, she could cry for help. Her first scream would bring Phyllis
to their aid, and Phil would come to their assistance prepared to fight.
Eleanor looked so young and girlish that no one would have expected her
to show resistance. She tried to look even more frightened than she
really felt. "We haven't any money on board," she said quietly. "We
don't keep our money here, but if you are hungry, we will give you
something to eat without your being so fierce." Eleanor was edging
slowly away from her couch.
"I don't want a slice of pie and your stale bread," the man replied
angrily. "I want everything you have got, and I want it quick."
Now was Eleanor's chance. Lillian gave another frantic tug, attempting
to free her hands. She had not cried out since the man seized her, but
her face was contracted with pain. The robber was so fully occupied
with holding her he was not looking at Eleanor, although his eyes
slanted go curiously that he could apparently see on all sides of him.
Eleanor made a quick rush forward. With a thud she fell to the floor,
and lay stunned by the force of her fall. The tramp, still holding
Lillian by her wrists, had jerked her backward, thrown out his foot and
tripped Eleanor. Now, before Lillian could scream, he whipped out a
dirty handkerchief and tied it so tightly about her mouth that she
could scarcely breathe. He next took a piece of twine and twisted it
about Lillian's wrists, so that the cord cut into them.
While this scene of violence was being enacted Phil was perfectly happy
and strangely unconscious of any trouble. She was still at work,
sweeping the upper deck and clearing it of the trash she had made with
her gardening. She was humming gayly to herself or she would have
heard the sounds below more plainly. "There was a man in our town, and
he was wondrous wise." She stopped short. She had heard a noise, as
though something had fallen. But then, the girls were always dropping
things and stumbling over their few pieces of furniture. There was no
further noise. Phil went on with her singing. But why did Lillian and
Eleanor not start the farmer boy to scrubbing? It was getting late,
and they wished to decorate the boat. Phil was too busy at her own
task to go down to discover the reason.
The tramp gazed sarcastically at Lillian, whose eyes watched him
defiantly, then at Eleanor, who was still lying on the floor. "Now,
girls," he began with mock politeness, "I imagine you will be kind
enough to be quiet for a time at least. So I think I will look around
to see if there is anything here that I would like." He seized poor
Lillian's plate of chocolate fudge and stuffed the candy into his
pockets. Then he left the sitting room and crept into the bedroom
which was used by Miss Jones and Eleanor. He found Eleanor's purse
under her pillow and pocketed it. On the small dressing-table was Miss
Jenny Ann's purse. He chuckled softly. This was the best of the sport.
Phil's humming upstairs stopped. Why did that lazy farmer boy not get
to his work? And where were Lillian and Nellie? Phil listened. She
thought she heard such an odd noise. It was as though some one were
trying to talk while choking. She ran lightly down the outside cabin
steps, her broom still in her hand. She peered into the kitchen. It
was empty. Phil did not go into the sitting room next. Some instinct
must have guided her. Had she seen the plight poor Lillian and Eleanor
were in, she must have screamed and betrayed herself. Instead she
stepped into Miss Jones's bedroom.
The youth, with his back to the door, had ears like the creatures of
the woods. Under other circumstances he would have heard Phyllis's
approach. But something in the discovery of Miss Jenny Ann's poor
little purse seemed to give him special joy. He was opening it and
emptying it of its last penny.
Phil saw him from the open cabin door. She did not think--she acted.
She saw, as she supposed, the farmer lad, intent on robbing them. Phil
brought her broom down on the boy's head with a resounding whack.
The tramp started forward with a growl. For the moment he was nearly
blinded from the pain of the blow.
Phil recognized that discretion was now the better part of valor. She
dashed out of one door, then into another, the youth stumbling after
her, raging with anger. She knew every turn and twist of the tiny
cabin. Instead of running around the deck, where she would surely have
been captured, she darted in and out of the cabin doors, those on the
inside, swinging backward and forward, sometimes closing a door in the
face of her pursuer.
She was almost overcome with horror when she saw Lillian and Eleanor in
the sitting-room. Lillian could not speak, but her eyes pleaded with
Phil. Phyllis had no reason not to cry out. As she ran she screamed
with all her might:
"Help, help, help!" Some one would soon be passing along the shore who
would come to their aid.
The thief did not like the noise Phyllis made. He also thought her
cries would be heard on the shore. He had found what he wanted. He
had no idea of being caught on the houseboat. But he had spied
Eleanor's caramel cake on the table. He would take that and be off in
a hurry.
As he grabbed Eleanor's cake, the product of her morning's work and the
chief ornament of their tea party, Eleanor opened her eyes. The sight
was more than she could bear. She gave a heart-rending scream. It
added to the tramp's alarm. He made for the shore as fast as he could
run.
Phil saw him start. She ran back of the kitchen and caught up
something that lay coiled in a heap on the deck. As the thief ran down
the gang plank and leaped on the land, it flew through the air with a
hissing, swinging noise. The youth fell face downward, his arms close
to his sides, letting the beloved cake drop to the ground.
Not for nothing had Miss Phyllis Alden seen Miss Jenny Ann rescued from
a wild bull by means of a lasso. Not for nothing had she spent hours
of her time, and one of her few dollars, in acquiring the skill
necessary to the swinging of a lariat. She now had her enemy held
fast. At the same instant that Phil caught her prey, before he had
time to jerk away, she knotted her rope about the cleat that held the
anchor.
On the shore, the youth tugged and strained. He ran back into the
water. It struck him that he might climb aboard the boat again. But
his arms were caught down at his sides. It was impossible for him to
get at a knife to cut the ropes. He could ease off the noose with his
teeth, but it would be a slow process of escape.
As soon as Phil had her victim fast, she rushed back into the sitting
room. She found Eleanor on her feet, engaged in untying the
handkerchief from Lillian's face and cutting the twine that was bound
about her swollen wrists.
"I've caught the enemy and he is ours," declared Phil cheerfully. "I
have him tied to the side of the boat. I can't say how long it may
take him to get away, and he may climb back on the boat and try to eat
us up. But, at least, we can get ready for him."
The robber was doggedly working at the rope that bound him. "I am
going to get back at you," he yelled savagely.
"Oh, why doesn't some one come?" cried Eleanor. "I am so afraid he'll
get away."
There was a cheerful whistle at the top of the embankment. It turned
to one of horrified amazement as the artist, Theodore Brown, took in
the situation.
"What has happened?" he called out as he ran down the hill, swinging a
small stick in his hand. "I heard your screams away over in the
fields. What have you got there?"
Phil told the story, "What shall we do with our prisoner, Mr. Brown?
We can't be bothered with him. We must get ready for our tea party,"
she concluded.
"I don't know what you wish to do with the young rascal," rejoined Mr.
Brown, "but I know very well what I intend to do." The artist's face
was set and stern. His eyes gleamed with righteous anger. Then he
began calmly rolling up his sleeves. He went forward to the prisoner.
"I am going to give you a taste of this," he declared, swinging his
stick through the air. It hit Phil's captive with a swish, once,
twice, three times. Mr. Brown was just warming up to his work.
"Leave me alone," the fellow howled. "Aren't you a coward to hit me
when I can't get at you!"
"You were not troubled about being a coward when you tried to terrorize
three girls and got pretty badly left," Mr. Brown answered coolly,
giving the youth another cut.
The bully groaned. The girls could not endure it. If the lad had
taken his medicine like a man they might have borne the sight of his
punishment. But there is nothing more sickening than the fear of a
coward.
"Please stop now, Mr. Brown," entreated Lillian. "I am sure you have
punished the boy enough. Make him give up the money he has stolen, but
don't beat him any more."
"No, please, don't beat him any more," echoed Eleanor.
Phil could have endured to see the thrashing continue a little longer.
But she did not wish to appear hard-hearted.
"Just as you like," answered Mr. Brown. "I am enjoying myself, but I
will quit if you say so. Don't you think I had better turn him over to
the police?"
"No," Phil protested. "He won't trouble us again, now he knows we can
look after ourselves. Next time he wouldn't get off so easily."
The youth vowed never to come within the range of the houseboat if he
were permitted to go free this time. As he got out of sight he stopped
to shake his fist at the distant houseboat, and he vowed to be revenged
for the punishment he had received if it cost him his life.
The girls begged Mr. Brown to say nothing to their chaperon of their
encounter. Miss Jenny Ann was already dreadfully nervous about them
and, besides, it would spoil Madge's home coming.
By the middle of the afternoon Eleanor had made another caramel cake
and Lillian another plate of fudge. The farmer boy had come down after
luncheon, and had scrubbed the decks of the houseboat to the last
degree of cleanliness. The girls had hung flags everywhere, and on the
outside of the cabin, facing the water, Phyllis had hung a piece of
white bunting with the word "Welcome" stamped on it in large letters.
This was the first thing Madge would see as she came within sight of
the houseboat.
Inside the cabin the table was set for tea. It held the best pickles,
preserves, cold meats and jellies that the houseboat larder could
furnish. Lillian had made a pitcher of lemonade and another of iced
tea. Miss Jones had roasted potatoes, and her corn muffins were ready
to slip into the oven as soon as she heard their friends approaching.
The three girls and their chaperon wore simple white frocks, with blue
sashes knotted about their waists, for blue and white were the
houseboat colors.
They were watching a golden sunset from the deck of their ship when,
together, they espied a figure standing up in a small skiff that was
moving in their direction. The boat was rowed by one man. The other
man sat with his arm in a sling. The upright figure was waving a great
bunch of flowers.
"Madge is coming!" cried Phil. The four women got out their
handkerchiefs and shouted across the water.
As Madge climbed aboard the boat a strange, squeaky sound greeted her.
First it played fast, then slow. It was undoubtedly music.
"My bonnie lies over the ocean,
My bonnie lies over the sea,
My bonnie lies over the ocean,
Oh, bring back my bonnie to me."
The tune was old as the hills.
"What on earth is that?" demanded Madge, as she kissed her chaperon and
started around the semi-circle of her chums.
"It's Lillian's surprise!" Eleanor explained. "It's a hurdy-gurdy. We
found it in the village. I know it is pretty old. But Lillian
persuaded the man to bring it on board, as we thought it would be jolly
to have a dance on the deck to-night in honor of Miss Madge Morton,
captain of the 'Merry Maid.'"