Madge Morton's Trust

by Amy D. V. Chalmers

After taking a last look at the spot where Eleanor lay, at her horse hitched to a fence rail, at his own white handkerchief, which fluttered from a low branch of a tree near the road, Harry rode furiously off. He would surely find their friends in a few moments. But Harry continued to ride in exactly the wrong direction. Every yard he covered took him farther away from the sulphur springs. While he was galloping on his wild-goose chase the party at the springs decided to return to the Preston farm. They were too uneasy about Harry and Eleanor to have a good time, and they concluded that they would either overtake the lost couple on the way home or else find that the two young people had given up and returned to the farm.

The three girls gave their horses free rein and cantered home with all speed. Yet it was dark when they arrived. No word had been heard of Eleanor or Harry. It was a cloudy evening and the sun had disappeared quickly. Without waiting, except to give the alarm to Mr. Preston, the entire riding party set out again. Madge thought that she would have liked to ask David to help them, but there was no time to spare. The riders met Mrs. Preston, Miss Jenny Ann and Miss Betsey, who had set out for home in the phaeton. The three older women also refused to go back to Prestons, until Eleanor and her companion were discovered.

In the meantime Harry Sears had finally reached the decision that he was not on the right road to the sulphur well. At the end of a five-mile gallop he turned his horse and cantered back. He passed Eleanor's horse, tugging impatiently at the reins that bound her; he saw his own white handkerchief tied on the tree; but he could not see or hear Eleanor. He would have liked to stop to find out that all was well with her, but he dreaded to let Eleanor know that he had spent all this time and was still without assistance. At the crossroads, where the young man had made his original mistake in the roads, he at last turned down the lane that led to the sulphur springs. But by this time his friends were well on their way home to the Preston farm.

Eleanor's horse had grown weary of remaining standing. It was past her supper time and she wished her measure of oats. The horse tossed her head restlessly, walked forward a few steps and then backward, tugging and straining at her bridle. In his excitement and hurry to be off, Harry had not tied the horse very securely. He had no other hitching rope than her bridle. The mare gave one final jerk and shake of her head and was free. Quite innocent of the mischief her desertion would cause, she trotted back to her own stable at the Prestons.

At nine o'clock in the evening rain began to fall. The night was pitch dark, except for an occasional jagged flash of lightning. When Madge, in advance of all the others, passed along only a few rods from the very spot where Harry had left Eleanor the latter must have heard nothing, for she made not the faintest outcry.

It was almost midnight before Eleanor's friends discovered that Harry was not with her. Not finding any of the party at the sulphur springs, Sears had lost his head completely. Instead of returning to poor Eleanor he went on to the Preston farm, hoping stupidly that Nellie had in some way been rescued and that he would find her there. The journey back home was a long, weary one. His horse was completely fagged out and had gone lame in one foot. Harry was terrified at the emptiness of the Preston farm; only one or two servants were about; the others had gone with Mr. Preston to look for Eleanor. There were no horses left on the place. So, on foot, Harry set out again, only to have Eleanor's riderless horse pass by him in the night. He hardly saw the animal in his excitement. He did not dream that it was the horse he had hitched to mark Eleanor's resting place, but plodded on, tired and dispirited.

Harry finally ran across Madge, Phyllis and Jack. He told them his story as best he could. Foot by foot the young people retraced their way over the same road, looking for the fluttering signal of Harry's white handkerchief and the waiting horse.

The horse, of course, had run off, and at first it seemed impossible to find the handkerchief. Madge was desperate. It was her fault that poor Nellie was alone at midnight in the rain with her injured shoulder. If only Madge had begged Eleanor to ride on faster, she knew that Eleanor would have consented. It was only because she had commanded it that her cousin had been so obstinate.

The other members of the Preston household were almost as miserable as Madge. Even Miss Betsey Taylor could not be persuaded to return to her bed. She forgot all about her health and her nerves, and was intent only on finding Eleanor, who was her favorite of the four girls.

The rain was still pouring in heavy, unrelenting streams, and everyone was soaked to the skin.