For the present, her one desire was to reach shore as quickly as possible. She gazed anxiously about for help. Several small boats were plying in and out of the harbor, but they were too far away to be of aid. As if by a preconceived plan, they kept beyond hailing distance.
“It looks as though I’ll be here for some time,” Madge commented inwardly. “Oh, dear, and it’s so important that I notify the police without delay. Something dreadful may have happened to Enid and her father.”
Since it availed her nothing to stand helplessly by the railing, she decided to look about the ship more carefully and see if she could make further discoveries. It was difficult for her to believe that the yacht had been entirely abandoned.
After visiting the kitchen and the lounge, she noticed a second cabin not far from the one occupied by Mr. Burnett. The door was unlocked and she entered, half expecting to find everything in disorder.
She found herself in Enid’s room. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed. Toilet articles were neatly arranged on the dressing table, and in opening a closet door, Madge saw a long line of pretty frocks. An empty traveling bag occupied the shelf above.
“Enid couldn’t have gone away for the weekend or she would have taken her things,” she reasoned.
Only the bed gave evidence that the room had been occupied within the past twenty-four hours. The sheets were wrinkled and the blankets lay upon the floor, as though the occupant had tossed them hurriedly aside upon arising.
“It’s beyond me,” Madge mused. “Evidently, Enid slept here last night—or at least a portion of the night, but Mr. Burnett didn’t.”
In her mind, the conviction was steadily growing that her friends had met with violence. She had read that robberies were not an infrequent occurrence aboard luxurious yachts, and Mr. Burnett was known to have valuables and art treasures in his possession.
Sorely troubled, she returned to the upper deck to watch for a boat, but as there was none close by, she wandered restlessly about.