Madge Morton, Captain of the Merry Maid Part 19

Mollie's beautiful white face was set in lines of despair, but her companions felt nothing save righteous indignation against the brutal man they were forced either to follow or else leave Mollie to her fate.

On the deck of the wretched shanty boat, this time, a man and a woman were waiting with burning impatience. The man was Bill and the woman was Mike Muldoon's wife. A group of fisher folk stood near, evidently anxious to know what was going to happen. It was late in the afternoon, and they had returned from the day's work on the water.

Madge broke away from her own party to run toward these men and women.

There were about half a dozen in number. "Won't you help us?" she cried excitedly. "Captain Mike is trying to force his daughter to marry that dreadful Bill. He has beaten her cruelly because she refuses to do it. My friend and I tried to get Mollie away from him, but he found us and forced her to come back here."

"Don't hurt the young ladies, Mike," remonstrated one of the fishermen, with a satirical grin in their direction, "it wouldn't be good business." Then he turned to Madge and said gruffly: "It ain't any of our lookout what Mike does with his daughter. She's foolish, anyhow.

Can't see why Bill wants to marry her."

Muldoon had jerked Mollie from Phil's restraining grasp and flung her aboard the shanty boat. The woman pushed the girl inside the cabin and closed the door. Then she stood waiting to see what her husband intended to do with the two girls.

Captain Mike was puzzled. He stood frowning angrily at Mollie's defiant champions. They had refused to go back home. He had given them their opportunity. It was just as well they had not taken it, for suddenly the man was seized with an idea.

"Git into my rowboat," he ordered Phil and Madge. "I am going to put you aboard my sailboat and carry you home to your friends. You had better take my offer. You'll only get into worse trouble if you stay around here. How do you think you are going to take care of Moll--knock me and Bill and my old woman down and run off with Moll?"

"Won't any one here help us?" asked Phil, turning to the grinning crowd.

"You had better go home with Mike. It's the only thing for you to do,"

advised a grizzled old fisherman. "Your hanging around here ain't going to help Moll."

Madge and Phil exchanged inquiring glances. For the time being they were beaten. It was better to go home. Later on they would see what could be done for their friend.

"We would rather go back in our own boat," Phil announced, making a last resistance. Madge, who was already in Mike's skiff, beckoned to Phil to join her. It was too undignified and hopeless for them to argue longer with these coa.r.s.e, rough men. Phyllis followed her chum reluctantly. She hung back as long as she could, staring hard at the shanty boat. But there was no sight nor sound of Mollie.

Even after they were aboard Captain Mike's sailing craft Phil's eyes strained toward the receding sh.o.r.e. When it was no longer to be seen she sat with her hands folded, gazing into her lap. She was still thinking and planning what she could do to rescue Mollie. Madge sat with closed eyes; she was too weary to speak.

The sailor's boat had left the island far behind and was moving swiftly. It was after sunset, and the sun had just thrown itself, like the golden ball in the fairy tale, into the depth of the clear water.

The girls were looking anxiously toward the direction of their boat, and wondering if their friends were worrying over their late return.

The houseboat lay a little to the southwest of Fisherman's Island, and so far they had not been able to catch sight of it. It was growing so dark that it was impossible to see the sh.o.r.e very clearly on either side of the bay. It was Madge's sharp eyes that first made the discovery that what she could see of the sh.o.r.e was unfamiliar. Captain Mike was not taking them to their houseboat. He was sailing in exactly the opposite direction. Madge glanced quickly at Phyllis, who was yet happily unconscious of their plight, then, turning to Muldoon, she said sharply: "You are sailing the wrong way to bring us to our houseboat.

The boat lies southwest of the island and you are taking us due north.

Turn about and take us to our boat instantly."

"I am taking you to where I am going to land you, all right," the sailor replied gruffly. "You have got to learn that you can't come foolin' in my business without getting yourselves into trouble. I'm goin' to learn you."

"You had better do as we ask you to do or you may regret it," put in Phyllis.

The sailor appeared not to have heard her threat.

"Don't speak to him, Phil. He isn't worth wasting words over."

The sailboat was evidently making for the land. The long line of a pier was faintly visible. A few lights shone along a strange sh.o.r.e.

It was plain that Captain Mike meant to land at this pier. The girls did not know why he meant to take them there, but they were too proud to ask him his reason.

Mike drew his boat close along the flight of steps that led to the top of the pier.

"Jump off, quick!" he called sharply.

It was night. Neither Madge nor Phyllis had the faintest idea of the hour. Neither one of them knew in what place they were being cast ash.o.r.e, nor had they a cent of money between them. But anything was better than to remain longer on the sailboat.

With a defiant glance at the scowling man Madge climbed out on the steps of the pier. She gave her hand to Phyllis, who leaped after her.

Captain Mike watched them walk up the steps to the top of the pier.

Then, turning his boat about, he sailed away, leaving the two girls to the darkness of an unknown sh.o.r.e.

CHAPTER XIX

FINDING A WAY TO HELP MOLLIE

Girls do not keep silent long, no matter how grave the situation. The two castaways were no exception.

Madge shook her clenched fist after the retreating mast of the sail boat. "You horrid, horrid old man!" she cried. "We won't give up trying to save poor Mollie, no matter what you do to us. Come on, Phil," she said, taking Phyllis by the hand, "let us go up to the sh.o.r.e and ask some one where we are. I suppose n.o.body will believe our story, because it seems so improbable, but perhaps some kind soul will give us a drink of water, even if we do look perfectly disreputable."

Phyllis giggled softly in spite of their plight. Madge had lost her hat. Her curls had long since come loose from the knot in which she wore them, and her gown was sadly wrinkled.

Madge was in no mood for laughter. "You needn't make fun of me, Phyllis Alden," she said reproachfully. "You are just as tattered and torn as I. We do look like a couple of beggars. Your hair is not down, but your collar is crumpled and your dress is almost as soiled as mine."

"I look much worse than you do, Madge, I am sure of it," conceded Phil cheerfully. "You see, I am not pretty to begin with." To this speech Madge would not deign to reply. Phyllis laughed good-humoredly.

"Loyal little Madge, you won't acknowledge my lack of fatal beauty."

Then in a graver tone she added, "What do you think we had better do, Madge?"

"Find out where we are and how far away the 'Merry Maid' is," returned Madge decisively. "We must reach there to-night, Phil. Miss Jenny Ann and the girls will believe something dreadful has happened to us."

The chums had walked to the end of the pier. Between them and the nearest house lay a stretch of treacherous marsh. They paused irresolutely, staring at the marsh with anxious eyes. "I am afraid we shall get lost in the marsh if we try to find our way through it on a dark night like this," faltered Phyllis.

Madge shook her head determinedly. "We must try to pa.s.s through it. I don't like the looks of it any better than you do, but we can't stay here all night, that is certain. Come on. Here goes."

Phyllis obediently followed her companion into the marsh, and then began a never-to-be-forgotten walk. With each step they took the salt water oozed up from the ground and covered their shoes. Madge felt her way carefully. She was obliged to put one foot cautiously forth to see if the earth ahead were firm enough to bear the weight of her body. On she went, with Phyllis close behind her. In spite of the difficulty the girls were plainly making headway. "Hurrah!" called Madge, "we are almost out of this quagmire. There is dry land ahead!" With one long leap she made the solid ground which stretched just ahead of her.

Phyllis was not so fortunate. She lunged blindly after Madge, struck an unusually bad part of the marsh and sank knee deep in the soft mud.

With a terrified cry she began struggling to free herself, but the harder she struggled the deeper she became imbedded in the marsh.

The moon was just coming up. Madge could faintly see what had happened to her friend. She ran toward Phyllis, but the latter cried out warningly: "Go back. If you try to help me, you'll only sink into this marsh with me."

Madge hesitated only a minute. "Don't move, Phil, if you can possibly help it," she cried. "But in a few minutes from now call out, so that I can tell where you are. Good-bye for a little while; I am going for help." Madge never knew how she covered the s.p.a.ce that lay between her and the nearest house. This house had a low stone wall around it, and stood on top of a steep hill that sloped down to this wall. Madge scrambled over the wall and climbed the hill, sometimes on her feet, but as often on her hands and knees. There was a light in a window.

She staggered to it and rapped on the window pane. A moment later a man appeared in a doorway at the right of the window.

"Who's there?" he called out sharply. "What do you mean by knocking on my window? Answer me at once!"

Madge stumbled over to him. "Oh, won't you please come with me?" she said. "My friend Phyllis is stuck fast in the marsh. I must have help to get her out."

Without a word the man disappeared into the house. For one dreadful instant, Madge thought he did not intend to help her; she thought he must believe that she was an impostor and was making up her story. The next minute the man returned, wearing a pair of high rubber hoots and carrying a dark lantern and a heavy rope.

"Don't be frightened," he said kindly to her as she walked wearily after him. "People often lose their way in this marsh after dark.

We'll soon find your friend."