Madge Morton, Captain of the Merry Maid

by Amy D. V. Chalmers

CHAPTER XIV

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.'"