Madge Morton, Captain of the Merry Maid

by Amy D. V. Chalmers

"We had better go to it," urged Madge, wiping the perspiration from her tired face. "At least we can hide in the cave for a while, until we make up our minds what is best for us to do, We may not be discovered until the tide turns. Later on I shall slip down here again to see if things are safe, and then we can make a run for our boat. If we wait here along the shore, we shall not have the least chance of escaping. The first person who comes to look for Mollie will surely see us. Come on. We have no time to lose."

This time Mollie led the way through a tangle of trees and underbrush to the center of the little island. Here they found the cave which was only an opening behind an immense old tree that had been uprooted by a storm. A flat rock protruded over the hollow, and the sand had gradually drifted away until the cavity was hardly large enough to hold the three girls. These were cramped quarters, and they were only partially protected from view by the immense roots of the fallen tree, but they knew of no other refuge and resolved to make the best of it.

The girls had barely crept into their hiding place when they heard a noise of some one tramping through the underbrush. A few moments later a man slouched along a narrow path between the trees. His hat was pulled down over his face, but Madge and Phil recognized him by his dress as the man they had seen asleep on the ground earlier in the day.

Mollie made no sound. She was hidden between the two friends, and never in her life before, so far as she could recall, had she been so protected by affection. But her increased trembling told her rescuers that she had recognized the man who passed so near to them, and that she feared him.

"It's Bill," she faltered when the figure disappeared without having the slightest suspicion that he was being watched. "He is on his way to our boat. He will ask for me, and my father will be sure to find out that I have gone. Then they will come out here to hunt for me."

For a long time after Mollie's disquieting prediction none of the three prisoners spoke. They hardly dared to breathe. Their bodies ached from their cramped, uncomfortable positions; they were hungry, and, worse than anything else, Madge and Phyllis were tormented with thirst. Since leaving the houseboat early in the morning they had drunk no water. Phil was thinking remorsefully that all this trouble had come from her asking Madge to go with her to the island in search of Mollie.

Madge was wondering just what she would do and say if Mollie's father should find them, while Mollie's delicate face had lost its expression of apathy and now wore one of lively terror. Even the faint rustle of leaves as a passing breeze swept through the trees caused her to start. An hour passed and no one came to look for them. Either Mike had not learned of his daughter's escape, or else he had not taken the trouble to come to search for her. He must have believed that she would return to the boat later on of her own accord, driven by hunger and loneliness.

It was now growing late in the afternoon. Neither Madge nor Phyllis wore a watch, so it was impossible to tell how much time they had spent in the cave. Miss Jenny Ann would wonder what had happened. Of course, Lillian and Eleanor would explain matters. Miss Jones might remember the tide and understand what was keeping them away. Yet there was a lively possibility that she might fail to take the tide into consideration.

At last Madge decided to end the suspense.

She knew their skiff would float from the shore of Fisherman's Island several hours before full tide. They had tried to make their escape at the moment when the tide was almost at its lowest ebb. The tide had been high that morning. It was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon when they had attempted to leave the island. She now believed it to be almost five o'clock. At least, it was time to reconnoitre. She put her ear close to the ground. She could hear no sound of any one approaching.