Madge Morton, Captain of the Merry Maid Part 22

She knew the girls were due from the other direction.

The boat moved slowly in toward the sh.o.r.e. It made almost no sound, now that it drew nearer the land. With a final dip of the oars and a strong forward movement the small boat glided well within the shadow of the stern of the houseboat. There it stopped.

Mollie did not see nor hear it. For some moments the boat rested quietly in the shallow water, moving only with the faint movement of the evening tide. The solitary boatman sat without stirring. He leaned forward, listening intently for any sounds of life aboard the houseboat. He had espied the deserted figure on the upper deck.

In almost complete silence the man fastened his boat to the houseboat and in his stocking feet clambered up the side of "The Merry Maid" and came aboard. He slipped around the deck, crouching on his hands and knees. He listened at the doors of each room in the cabin. No one was about except the girl in the steamer chair. The man moved like a cat, with almost complete noiselessness. He made no effort to onto the deserted cabin. Nor did he, at first, make any movement that showed the least interest in Mollie.

At the farther end of the deck, outside the kitchen, the prowler made a discovery which caused him great satisfaction. He smiled. He picked it up and shook it furtively. The treasure was a big tin can, nearly full of kerosene.

Still on his hands and knees, the man tilted the can until the oil ran in a little stream down the deck and soaked well into the wood. He then put his hand in his pocket to look for something.

Mollie did not hear him. At least, her ears were not conscious that they caught a distinct sound. Finally she became conscious of the presence of some one near her. She got quickly up out of her chair and leaned over the railing of the top deck.

At this moment the man, with his back toward her, struck a match.

Mollie beheld the crouching figure. She could not tell who the man was. Was it Bill or her father come to steal her away? The old, dreadful fear swept over her, with enough of memory to make her realize what her capture would mean. The girl's first instinct was to hide.

She did not realize how poor a refuge the houseboat offered her. It seemed to her that, if she could only get into one of the cabin bedrooms and conceal herself in her berth, she might escape. Poor Mollie had no better idea to aid her. She came running down the outside steps and ran toward the cabin door.

The man rose quickly. He did not move toward Mollie. Outside the cabin kitchen was a big box filled with chips and bits of kindling, used to light the kitchen stove. The man gathered up a handful of these pieces of wood and ran back to his old position. He glanced at Mollie. But it was easy to see that she was trying to get away, not to hinder him in what he was doing. He picked up the oil can again. This time he poured the few remaining drops on a little pile of chips and lit another match. The tinder blazed up. The man fanned the tiny flames with the brim of a torn hat. The flare of light grew brighter; a great flame leapt up and then a snake-like curve of fire followed the oil-soaked wood.

When the man did not move toward Mollie she stopped in the cabin door.

She was afraid of him. She was not like other girls. Ever since she had been able to know anything she had felt a curious, confused feeling in her head. She did not know who the man was on the deck of the boat.

But she did know that he was trying to set their houseboat afire.

Mollie paid no further attention to the man. She did not scream at him, nor try to stop what he was doing. She rushed forward and began stamping on the pile of blazing sticks.

The man did not attempt to prevent her. He was watching the increasing length of flame spread over the deck. A second later he sprang up, ran across the deck, slipped over the side of "The Merry Maid," dropped into his rowboat, and rowed swiftly out of sight.

Mollie flew for the big bucket of water, which they always kept in a certain spot. She flung the water on the flames, but water will not quench the flames made from oil. The rail began to crackle, the sparks to fly. The "Merry Maid" was afire, with only one, feeble girl to save it!

Mollie knew that there were steamer blankets in the bedrooms of the cabin. She often had one to cover her when she took her afternoon rest. Remember, Mollie had had little education, but she had been brought up to work and to do practical tasks. It was but the work of a moment to drag out two blankets and spread them over the flames. The fire died down for a moment; then it crept through the fringe of the rugs, and a choking smell of burning wool showed that the blankets also were beginning to burn. But the brave girl had no intention of giving up the fight.

There were two other blankets left. Mollie started back to the cabin for these, when to her terror she discovered that the skirt of her cotton dress was in names. She tried to beat it out with her hands, but it crept steadily up toward her head. She cried aloud, but she could see no one coming to save her. The pain was more intense every moment. She could not keep still. She ran toward the edge of the deck. Before her the placid water lay cool and sweet. With a cry of pain, Mollie threw herself over the side of the houseboat. She did not realize how shallow the water was. She flung herself with all her force. Her head struck against the bottom with a heavy thud. At least the water was cool; the fire no longer burned her.

Miss Jones and Mr. Brown, who had joined Miss Jenny Ann on her way back from the farmhouse, heard Mollie's first cry of alarm. The artist had been coming down to the houseboat to make an evening call. Two strangers, a man and his wife, were strolling along the top of the small embankment. They also heard the call. The four of them started down the hill almost at the same time. Before they reached the houseboat, the odor of burning wood was borne to their nostrils. Miss Jenny Ann cried out for Mollie, but Mollie did not answer. Mr. Brown and the two strangers began beating out the fire on the boat. It had not spread far; the blankets had covered the flames and kept them from increasing. The overturned oil can gave the clue to the mystery. Mr.

Brown dashed into the kitchen for a bag of salt, because salt more quickly puts out the flames from burning oil.

Miss Jenny Ann had, so far, been unable to find Mollie. Now she looked over the side of the boat, and Mollie's body could be plainly seen lying in the shallow water. Mr. Brown and the stranger together brought the girl back to the houseboat. She was insensible. In her plunge into the water she had struck her head with great force against the bottom of the bay. She was stunned by the shock, and when she returned to consciousness the pain from the burn and the blow made her delirious. As she alone could tell what had transpired in that brief hour, the cause of the fire remained a mystery.

CHAPTER XXII

THE EVIL GENIUS

"I think I had better go up to the hotel to prepare the girls for what has happened," suggested Mr. Brown a short time afterward.

Miss Jenny Ann seemed surprised at the thought of his leaving her alone with Mollie, and said so.

"Yes; I think I had better go at once," he announced decisively. "The doctor will be here in a few minutes. I can do nothing for you or for Mollie, but I can save the girls from the shock of returning to find their houseboat damaged and their friend so ill."

Miss Jenny Ann agreed quietly. If Mr. Brown thought it best to go, it did not really matter. "Ask the girls to come home as soon as they can," she added. "Phil is so clever in cases of illness."

"I'll borrow the 'Water Witch.' I think I can get up to the Belleview quicker if I go by water than if I wait for the street car to take me there. The girls will bring the boat home with them."

Mr. Brown disappeared from the deck of the boat a few moments later.

He climbed into the "Water Witch" and rowed very swiftly up the bay.

Miss Jones had taken it for granted that their houseboat had caught fire by accident. She had not had time to give much thought to the matter. But Mr. Brown had other views. He remembered the boy who had attempted the robbery, and he had other reasons for his suspicions. A can of oil might very easily have turned over on the deck, but was there any reason to suppose that a pile of matches would be left lying at one side of the can? The young artist meant to make a thorough search for the possible offender. He wished to get out on the water as soon as he could, because he believed the incendiary had escaped that way. Mr. Brown and Miss Jenny Ann had been walking down the embankment at the very time the trespa.s.ser must have made his escape. If he had gone by land, one of them must have caught sight of him.

Theodore Brown was an ex-member of a Yale boat crew. He made the "Water Witch" skim through the waters, and at the same time he kept a sharp lookout for a small boat. There were a number of skiffs filled with young girls and men. But Mr. Brown was looking for a boat with the single figure of a boy in it.

He went toward the hotel, believing that the boatman would feel more secure if he were swallowed up in a crowd, than if he were seen in a more deserted part of the bay. Mr. Brown had almost reached the hotel pier before he came up to the character of skiff he desired to find.

Then he was embarra.s.sed how to accost the young man in it, as it was possible for him to see only the oarsman's back. Mr. Brown. came as close up alongside the stranger's boat as he could. Still he could not see the man's face. He leaned out of his own boat and called: "I want to drift along here and smoke. Would you be kind enough to lend me a match?"

The other oarsman apparently did not hear him. He rowed on faster.

Again Mr. Brown caught up with him. He called, in an even more friendly fashion, "Haven't you that match?"

The stranger fumbled a minute in his pocket. "Sorry to disoblige you,"

he answered. "I haven't a match about me."

Theodore Brown laughed. The two small boats were almost touching each other. "Sorry to have troubled you," continued Mr. Brown, leaning as far over the side of his boat as he could. "After all, I find I have some matches in my own pocket. You had better take a cigar to show you forgive me for annoying you."

The artist struck a light and held it for a moment full in the other oarsman's face. It was only a second; the light flickered and went out. The man in the boat winced as the light shone on his face. "No, thank you; I don't smoke," he answered politely. With that he shot his skiff on ahead.

Mr. Brown followed behind him. He saw the other man was about to land at a deserted beach a short distance to the left of the Belleview Hotel pier. Mr. Brown did not make for the same sh.o.r.e immediately. He waited until the man was on land and striding out of sight; then the artist jumped from his own boat and went after the other man. Not many yards away was the side lawn of the hotel. It was a warm summer night, and a number of guests were strolling about under the trees. Mr. Brown put his hand on the arm of the fellow whom he had been following.

The boy leaped forward in an effort to wrench himself away. At this moment he recognized the artist and knew he had been overtaken. Mr.

Brown kept a firm hold on his arm.

"What do you want with me?" demanded the lad, trying to appear at his ease. "Aren't you the fellow who came alongside of me in the boat?"

"I am," was the curt reply, "and I don't wish to ask a great favor of you. I simply wish you to come over to the hotel with me to see some friends of mine. We would like to ask you a few questions. Of course, if you can answer them satisfactorily, I shall let you go with my best apologies. I would advise you not to make any resistance here. You will attract the attention of the people on the lawn."

Mrs. Curtis and her guests were rather surprised when a hotel boy came up to her sitting room to say that Mr. Theodore Brown and some one else would like to speak to Mr. Tom Curtis for a few minutes, if that were possible.

Tom came back to his mother a little later, his eyes flashing. He related a part of Mr. Brown's story.

"If you don't mind, Mother, I think we had better have the fellow up here for the girls to see. I know he is the man who took the sailboat from Madge and me, and Mr. Brown says he is the fellow who attempted to rob the houseboat; but whether he has set it afire and nearly been the death of Mollie, we have no way of finding out. He vows he has not been near the houseboat since the day he promised never to return. If we cross-examine him up here, perhaps we can get at the truth."

Eleanor had slipped out of the room to find her coat and hat as soon as she learned of the accident to Mollie. The other young women were trembling with sympathy and alarm, but they waited to see the boy brought upstairs.

The girls were not long in agreeing to the ident.i.ty of the prisoner as the evil genius of their past experiences. But there was no way of proving that he had actually set fire to the houseboat, for he still absolutely denied all knowledge of it.

Eleanor came back to the sitting-room. "Aren't you ready to leave, girls?" she demanded. "Miss Jenny Ann and Mollie need us."

Eleanor sniffed the air daintily. "What is that curious odor of kerosene, Mrs. Curtis?" she inquired curiously. "Do you think any of the lamps could be leaking?"

"Good!" Mr. Brown e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "What a chump I am! I have been conscious of that smell all this time and had not a.s.sociated it with the houseboat."