THE EVIL GENIUS
"I think I had better go up to the hotel to prepare the girls for what
has happened," suggested Mr. Brown a short time afterward.
Miss Jenny Ann seemed surprised at the thought of his leaving her alone
with Mollie, and said so.
"Yes; I think I had better go at once," he announced decisively. "The
doctor will be here in a few minutes. I can do nothing for you or for
Mollie, but I can save the girls from the shock of returning to find
their houseboat damaged and their friend so ill."
Miss Jenny Ann agreed quietly. If Mr. Brown thought it best to go, it
did not really matter. "Ask the girls to come home as soon as they
can," she added. "Phil is so clever in cases of illness."
"I'll borrow the 'Water Witch.' I think I can get up to the Belleview
quicker if I go by water than if I wait for the street car to take me
there. The girls will bring the boat home with them."
Mr. Brown disappeared from the deck of the boat a few moments later.
He climbed into the "Water Witch" and rowed very swiftly up the bay.
Miss Jones had taken it for granted that their houseboat had caught
fire by accident. She had not had time to give much thought to the
matter. But Mr. Brown had other views. He remembered the boy who had
attempted the robbery, and he had other reasons for his suspicions. A
can of oil might very easily have turned over on the deck, but was
there any reason to suppose that a pile of matches would be left lying
at one side of the can? The young artist meant to make a thorough
search for the possible offender. He wished to get out on the water as
soon as he could, because he believed the incendiary had escaped that
way. Mr. Brown and Miss Jenny Ann had been walking down the embankment
at the very time the trespasser must have made his escape. If he had
gone by land, one of them must have caught sight of him.
Theodore Brown was an ex-member of a Yale boat crew. He made the
"Water Witch" skim through the waters, and at the same time he kept a
sharp lookout for a small boat. There were a number of skiffs filled
with young girls and men. But Mr. Brown was looking for a boat with
the single figure of a boy in it.
He went toward the hotel, believing that the boatman would feel more
secure if he were swallowed up in a crowd, than if he were seen in a
more deserted part of the bay. Mr. Brown had almost reached the hotel
pier before he came up to the character of skiff he desired to find.
Then he was embarrassed how to accost the young man in it, as it was
possible for him to see only the oarsman's back. Mr. Brown. came as
close up alongside the stranger's boat as he could. Still he could not
see the man's face. He leaned out of his own boat and called: "I want
to drift along here and smoke. Would you be kind enough to lend me a
match?"
The other oarsman apparently did not hear him. He rowed on faster.
Again Mr. Brown caught up with him. He called, in an even more
friendly fashion, "Haven't you that match?"
The stranger fumbled a minute in his pocket. "Sorry to disoblige you,"
he answered. "I haven't a match about me."
Theodore Brown laughed. The two small boats were almost touching each
other. "Sorry to have troubled you," continued Mr. Brown, leaning as
far over the side of his boat as he could. "After all, I find I have
some matches in my own pocket. You had better take a cigar to show you
forgive me for annoying you."
The artist struck a light and held it for a moment full in the other
oarsman's face. It was only a second; the light flickered and went
out. The man in the boat winced as the light shone on his face. "No,
thank you; I don't smoke," he answered politely. With that he shot his
skiff on ahead.
Mr. Brown followed behind him. He saw the other man was about to land
at a deserted beach a short distance to the left of the Belleview Hotel
pier. Mr. Brown did not make for the same shore immediately. He
waited until the man was on land and striding out of sight; then the
artist jumped from his own boat and went after the other man. Not many
yards away was the side lawn of the hotel. It was a warm summer night,
and a number of guests were strolling about under the trees. Mr. Brown
put his hand on the arm of the fellow whom he had been following.
The boy leaped forward in an effort to wrench himself away. At this
moment he recognized the artist and knew he had been overtaken. Mr.
Brown kept a firm hold on his arm.
"What do you want with me?" demanded the lad, trying to appear at his
ease. "Aren't you the fellow who came alongside of me in the boat?"
"I am," was the curt reply, "and I don't wish to ask a great favor of
you. I simply wish you to come over to the hotel with me to see some
friends of mine. We would like to ask you a few questions. Of course,
if you can answer them satisfactorily, I shall let you go with my best
apologies. I would advise you not to make any resistance here. You
will attract the attention of the people on the lawn."
Mrs. Curtis and her guests were rather surprised when a hotel boy came
up to her sitting room to say that Mr. Theodore Brown and some one else
would like to speak to Mr. Tom Curtis for a few minutes, if that were
possible.
Tom came back to his mother a little later, his eyes flashing. He
related a part of Mr. Brown's story.
"If you don't mind, Mother, I think we had better have the fellow up
here for the girls to see. I know he is the man who took the sailboat
from Madge and me, and Mr. Brown says he is the fellow who attempted to
rob the houseboat; but whether he has set it afire and nearly been the
death of Mollie, we have no way of finding out. He vows he has not
been near the houseboat since the day he promised never to return. If
we cross-examine him up here, perhaps we can get at the truth."
Eleanor had slipped out of the room to find her coat and hat as soon as
she learned of the accident to Mollie. The other young women were
trembling with sympathy and alarm, but they waited to see the boy
brought upstairs.
The girls were not long in agreeing to the identity of the prisoner as
the evil genius of their past experiences. But there was no way of
proving that he had actually set fire to the houseboat, for he still
absolutely denied all knowledge of it.
Eleanor came back to the sitting-room. "Aren't you ready to leave,
girls?" she demanded. "Miss Jenny Ann and Mollie need us."
Eleanor sniffed the air daintily. "What is that curious odor of
kerosene, Mrs. Curtis?" she inquired curiously. "Do you think any of
the lamps could be leaking?"
"Good!" Mr. Brown ejaculated. "What a chump I am! I have been
conscious of that smell all this time and had not associated it with
the houseboat."
Mr. Brown put his nose down to his prisoner's hands. Then he inhaled
the scent of his coat. Tom Curtis followed suit. The odor was
unmistakable. The lad was well smeared with oil. The circumstantial
evidence was strong against the captured boy when Mr. Brown related the
discovery of the overturned can and the spread of the kerosene on the
houseboat deck.
"I am awfully sorry to have made this scene, Mrs. Curtis," apologized
the young artist, "but I knew no other way for us to settle the matter
at once. This young man has done too much mischief to our friends to
be allowed to go free again. But you need not think further of the
experience, I'll take the lad and give him up to the police to-night.
Your son and I will be able to identify him. It will not be necessary
to draw you girls into the business. We can manage without you."
Mrs. Curtis looked exceedingly uncomfortable. She had been bitterly
angry at the way the lad had served Tom and Madge, and at that time she
would have given a great deal to have had him properly punished. Since
then he had added one evil deed to the other. But the boy, who was
being led away to prison, seemed so young, not much older than Tom. He
was wild and reckless in his appearance, yet he had the aspect of
having been born of gentle people.
The youth had not spoken since the discovery of the oil on his hands
and clothes. Now, as he was being led from the sitting room, he turned
on his cross-questioners and shook with swift laughter. He threw back
his head, so that his long, dark hair uncovered his ears. His eyes
gleamed.
Madge, who was staring hard at the boy from her position on the far
side of the room, gave an unexpected movement of surprise. She waited
for the young prisoner to speak.
"You needn't trouble your girls to appear against me," he said
savagely, "but you will have to introduce their chaperon in court, and
a pretty thing it will be for a sister to appear as a witness against
her own brother!"
A frozen silence fell on the group of listeners. Phil shook her head
emphatically. "You are not our Miss Jenny Ann's brother," she retorted
decidedly. "It would be perfectly impossible for her to have a wicked
brother like you."
Theodore Brown's face flushed and paled. He would have liked to drag
the lad out of the room without waiting another instant. Yet he feared
to make the scene even worse. He did not have the slightest faith in
the lad's statement; he was only fiercely angry at the boy's impudence
and wondered if the fellow even knew the name of the chaperon of the
"Merry Maid."
Lillian and Eleanor were flushed with indignation. Tom Curtis was
equally so. But Mrs. Curtis happened to catch a glimpse of Madge's
face. Her expression was a puzzle. She ran forward and touched Mr.
Brown on the sleeve. "Wait a minute, Mr. Brown," she pleaded. "Don't
take the boy to jail yet. What he says may be true. Don't you think
we ought to ask him some questions first?"
The entire company stared at Madge in amazement. But in the single
moment when Mr. Brown's captive started to leave the room, the little
captain had seen the tips of his pointed ears. She had caught the
wild, almost animal gleam in his eyes. She recalled the midnight
visitor to their chaperon on the first night their houseboat had rested
at anchor. She remembered Miss Jenny Ann's curious behavior, and how
she had absolutely refused to give the name of her caller. All this
swept through Madge's mind and now she understood Miss Jenny Ann's
poverty, her reticence about her own affairs, her unhappiness when the
girls first knew her at school. Of course, this wicked brother was the
cause of their chaperon's difficulties. If they punished the boy, Miss
Jenny Ann must suffer more than he would. She had lately grown to be
as merry as any of the girls on board the "Merry Maid."
"O Mrs. Curtis!" exclaimed Madge, "please don't let Tom and Mr. Brown
take him off to jail. I think he _is_ our Miss Jenny Ann's brother. I
wouldn't have her find out the wicked things he has done for all the
money in the world." Madge was almost in tears as she made her plea to
Mrs. Curtis.
"Never mind, dear," replied Mrs. Curtis soothingly. "If the lad really
turns out to be your chaperon's brother, you are right; his behavior
must be kept a secret from her."
Mrs. Curtis, Mr. Brown and Tom afterward found the statement of the
wild boy to be true. He was really Miss Jones's brother. His parents
had died when he was a little boy, and his sister had sacrificed her
life's hopes to him. Yet her efforts had been in vain. He had always
been hard to control. In the last few years he had broken away from
all restraint. He had been concealed in the motor boat that first
towed the girls and their chaperon to their anchorage and had seen his
sister on the houseboat. His plan had been to get money from her.
When she told him that she had none to give him he had devoted his time
to tormenting the crew of the "Merry Maid" in order to be revenged on
his sister.
After long consultation it was decided not to send him to prison. Mrs.
Curtis gave him the money to sail for South Africa, after making him
promise to try to turn over a new leaf, and not to write to his sister
until he was safely out of the country. And so Miss Jenny Ann's ghost
was laid without her knowing it until some time afterward.