MOLLIE'S BRAVE FIGHT
Mollie was sitting alone on the deck of the houseboat. She and Miss
Jenny had just finished an early tea. The girls were still away at
their dinner, and Miss Jenny Ann had gone up to the nearest farmhouse
to get some eggs for breakfast. It was the first time Mollie had ever
been left by herself on the houseboat. But Miss Jenny Ann did not
think there was any possible danger. Neither Captain Mike nor Bill had
made the slightest attempt to get possession of Mollie. Nor did Miss
Jones intend to be out of call for more than fifteen minutes.
Mollie had begun to lose the vague dread that had haunted her all her
life. The peaceful hours of the past ten days seemed more real to her
than the dreary, ugly years of her childhood. She began faintly to
realize what life could mean when one was not afraid.
Mollie's hands, a little roughened from hard work, were folded
peacefully in her lap. Her beautiful head, with its crown of
sun-colored hair, was resting against the cushion of the big steamer
chair. She was on the small upper deck, facing the bow of the boat. A
strolling breeze had blown the hair back from her forehead, and the
ugly scar was visible. But, now that Mollie's head no longer ached
from the hard work she had been forced to endure, the throbbing and the
old pain in this scar had almost gone. The girl was slowly finding
herself. So far she had accepted her new life without a question,
taking what was done for her like a contented child. Now she sat
looking up the bay for the return of her friends. They would not be at
home for several hours, but time meant very little to Mollie, and she
had been lonely since they had gone away.
A skiff came down the bay with a single figure seated in it.
Mollie heard the faint splashing of the oars, but since water sounds
had been familiar to her all her life she did not even turn her head to
see if any one were coming near to the houseboat.
She knew the girls were due from the other direction.
The boat moved slowly in toward the shore. It made almost no sound,
now that it drew nearer the land. With a final dip of the oars and a
strong forward movement the small boat glided well within the shadow of
the stern of the houseboat. There it stopped.
Mollie did not see nor hear it. For some moments the boat rested
quietly in the shallow water, moving only with the faint movement of
the evening tide. The solitary boatman sat without stirring. He
leaned forward, listening intently for any sounds of life aboard the
houseboat. He had espied the deserted figure on the upper deck.
In almost complete silence the man fastened his boat to the houseboat
and in his stocking feet clambered up the side of "The Merry Maid" and
came aboard. He slipped around the deck, crouching on his hands and
knees. He listened at the doors of each room in the cabin. No one was
about except the girl in the steamer chair. The man moved like a cat,
with almost complete noiselessness. He made no effort to onto the
deserted cabin. Nor did he, at first, make any movement that showed
the least interest in Mollie.
At the farther end of the deck, outside the kitchen, the prowler made a
discovery which caused him great satisfaction. He smiled. He picked
it up and shook it furtively. The treasure was a big tin can, nearly
full of kerosene.
Still on his hands and knees, the man tilted the can until the oil ran
in a little stream down the deck and soaked well into the wood. He
then put his hand in his pocket to look for something.
Mollie did not hear him. At least, her ears were not conscious that
they caught a distinct sound. Finally she became conscious of the
presence of some one near her. She got quickly up out of her chair and
leaned over the railing of the top deck.
At this moment the man, with his back toward her, struck a match.
Mollie beheld the crouching figure. She could not tell who the man
was. Was it Bill or her father come to steal her away? The old,
dreadful fear swept over her, with enough of memory to make her realize
what her capture would mean. The girl's first instinct was to hide.
She did not realize how poor a refuge the houseboat offered her. It
seemed to her that, if she could only get into one of the cabin
bedrooms and conceal herself in her berth, she might escape. Poor
Mollie had no better idea to aid her. She came running down the
outside steps and ran toward the cabin door.
The man rose quickly. He did not move toward Mollie. Outside the
cabin kitchen was a big box filled with chips and bits of kindling,
used to light the kitchen stove. The man gathered up a handful of
these pieces of wood and ran back to his old position. He glanced at
Mollie. But it was easy to see that she was trying to get away, not to
hinder him in what he was doing. He picked up the oil can again. This
time he poured the few remaining drops on a little pile of chips and
lit another match. The tinder blazed up. The man fanned the tiny
flames with the brim of a torn hat. The flare of light grew brighter;
a great flame leapt up and then a snake-like curve of fire followed the
oil-soaked wood.
When the man did not move toward Mollie she stopped in the cabin door.
She was afraid of him. She was not like other girls. Ever since she
had been able to know anything she had felt a curious, confused feeling
in her head. She did not know who the man was on the deck of the boat.
But she did know that he was trying to set their houseboat afire.
Mollie paid no further attention to the man. She did not scream at
him, nor try to stop what he was doing. She rushed forward and began
stamping on the pile of blazing sticks.
The man did not attempt to prevent her. He was watching the increasing
length of flame spread over the deck. A second later he sprang up, ran
across the deck, slipped over the side of "The Merry Maid," dropped
into his rowboat, and rowed swiftly out of sight.
Mollie flew for the big bucket of water, which they always kept in a
certain spot. She flung the water on the flames, but water will not
quench the flames made from oil. The rail began to crackle, the sparks
to fly. The "Merry Maid" was afire, with only one, feeble girl to save
it!
Mollie knew that there were steamer blankets in the bedrooms of the
cabin. She often had one to cover her when she took her afternoon
rest. Remember, Mollie had had little education, but she had been
brought up to work and to do practical tasks. It was but the work of a
moment to drag out two blankets and spread them over the flames. The
fire died down for a moment; then it crept through the fringe of the
rugs, and a choking smell of burning wool showed that the blankets also
were beginning to burn. But the brave girl had no intention of giving
up the fight.
There were two other blankets left. Mollie started back to the cabin
for these, when to her terror she discovered that the skirt of her
cotton dress was in names. She tried to beat it out with her hands,
but it crept steadily up toward her head. She cried aloud, but she
could see no one coming to save her. The pain was more intense every
moment. She could not keep still. She ran toward the edge of the
deck. Before her the placid water lay cool and sweet. With a cry of
pain, Mollie threw herself over the side of the houseboat. She did not
realize how shallow the water was. She flung herself with all her
force. Her head struck against the bottom with a heavy thud. At least
the water was cool; the fire no longer burned her.
Miss Jones and Mr. Brown, who had joined Miss Jenny Ann on her way back
from the farmhouse, heard Mollie's first cry of alarm. The artist had
been coming down to the houseboat to make an evening call. Two
strangers, a man and his wife, were strolling along the top of the
small embankment. They also heard the call. The four of them started
down the hill almost at the same time. Before they reached the
houseboat, the odor of burning wood was borne to their nostrils. Miss
Jenny Ann cried out for Mollie, but Mollie did not answer. Mr. Brown
and the two strangers began beating out the fire on the boat. It had
not spread far; the blankets had covered the flames and kept them from
increasing. The overturned oil can gave the clue to the mystery. Mr.
Brown dashed into the kitchen for a bag of salt, because salt more
quickly puts out the flames from burning oil.
Miss Jenny Ann had, so far, been unable to find Mollie. Now she looked
over the side of the boat, and Mollie's body could be plainly seen
lying in the shallow water. Mr. Brown and the stranger together
brought the girl back to the houseboat. She was insensible. In her
plunge into the water she had struck her head with great force against
the bottom of the bay. She was stunned by the shock, and when she
returned to consciousness the pain from the burn and the blow made her
delirious. As she alone could tell what had transpired in that brief
hour, the cause of the fire remained a mystery.