Madge Morton's Secret Part 17

It was in vain that Madge and Phil insisted that they could find their way home without a.s.sistance. The obstinate man declared that they would be safer with an escort. What could the girls do? Nothing but make a foolish scene, and they were too wise for that.

Before Phyllis turned to leave the place she took one long, intense stare at the house ahead of her, which, she was now convinced, imprisoned some innocent person. She said nothing to the man in charge of it. But, in Phil-fashion, she set her lips firmly together. If the man had known Phyllis Alden better, he would not have smiled in such a relieved fashion when his unwelcome visitors disappeared.

With their backs to the ill-omened house, and their faces set toward the lodge, Madge and Phil felt their hearts lighten. So far they had failed miserably in their quest for help, but now these pretended knights were to return to their ladies and make their report. What bliss to be in their own little snug harbor again! "Snug harbor" was Phil's name for their lodge in the woods.

The girls walked on happily. They could talk as they chose, with a deaf and dumb boy for a guide.

"Who do you suppose is hidden in that house?" asked Phil nervously. She could not get the subject off her mind.

Madge was far less interested, so she smiled. "You have always thought that I had an excellent imagination," she teased, "but, really, this is asking too much of me! Perhaps the man in the house is crazy; perhaps he is heir to a large fortune, and the other wretch is trying to keep him out of it. There may be a thousand reasons for his being there. Oh, dear me, I am tired! If only this boy weren't deaf and dumb we might get some information out of him. I am glad that we are going home by a shorter route."

"I hope it is shorter," interrupted Phil. "Certainly it is entirely different from the direction we took yesterday. We have not pa.s.sed a single familiar object since we started."

So far the girls had meekly and unquestioningly followed their guide.

Now a doubt a.s.sailed both of them at the same time. Could it be possible that the lad had been sent to lead them out of their way? It dawned on Phil that the boy had probably been told to take them home by some route that would confuse them in case they ever desired to return to the secluded house.

But it was perfectly hopeless to try to argue with a deaf and dumb boy.

The lad traveled at such a pace through the woods that the two girls had difficulty in keeping up with him. Madge now ran ahead, catching the boy by the sleeve. She tried to spell the word, "Home," on her fingers. Then she shouted at the top of her lungs, "Are you taking us home the right way?"

The boy grinned and bowed his head. He shot his fingers in the air and began a rapid-fire conversation. Madge and Phil watched him, feeling utterly helpless. The sign language had not been included in their education. There was nothing for them to do but continue to follow their leader.

Two hours more of travel and the wayfarers did not seem to be any nearer home. Not a solitary familiar tree or bush appeared to welcome them.

The knights were weary and disappointed. With what high hopes they had set out on their travels! With what low spirits they returned home!

They were too tired to see where they were going, and they stumbled blindly on, over tangled roots, around clumps of trees, through open bits of woodland, too fatigued to protest or to ask questions.

Phil stole a look at her compa.s.s. It pointed southeast. Phil recalled that she and Madge had traveled almost due south the day before in order to reach the opposite side of the island. They should now be going north. There was now no possible doubt. They had been led astray.

Phil would have liked to burst out crying. Instead, she declared miserably, without the least attempt at cheerfulness: "We are lost Madge! We have been fooled and tricked. The boy is not taking us across the island. He has been leading us on a wild-goose chase all day. I am not going to follow him another step."

"I am afraid we are too tired, now, Phil, to find our way home by ourselves. Yet think how terrified Miss Jenny Ann and the girls will be if another night pa.s.ses and we do not return!"

Madge happened to glance up. The deaf and dumb boy was grinning at them with an expression of utter derision. He stuck out his tongue.

The little captain's cheeks flamed. As usual, anger inspired her to action. She sprang to her feet. "Don't you worry, Phil Alden," blazed Madge. "This wretch of a boy is going to lead us home by the very quickest route--and don't you forget it."

"What are you going to do?" queried Phil languidly.

Madge marched directly over to the boy; seizing him by both shoulders, she shook him with all her might. The boy submitted. But when Madge had finished he refused to stir. He picked up a stick from the ground and began to whittle it calmly, emitting a guttural, choking laugh.

Madge struck the lad sharply with a little stick she had picked up. At least he would understand what she meant by that kind of conversation.

Still the youth whittled serenely. Then she put her hand in her back coat pocket, taking out a small, dark object. It was a small pistol.

Very quietly she opened and loaded it. Then, with her pistol primed, she pointed it at the obstinate boy. "Forward, march!" she commanded.

The lad's glance shifted. He started to run. Madge shot into the air.

The boy hesitated. Then he raised both hands. He had given up. A minute later he set off, beckoning to Madge and Phyllis to follow him. He had decided to take them home by the right path.

"I did not know you had your pistol, Madge," gasped Phil, as the two friends journeyed on together again.

Madge nodded. "Oh, yes," she explained. "We could not very well have come on such a journey without it. Miss Jenny Ann knew that I carried it."

For twenty-four hours, at odd intervals of time, Miss Jenny Ann, Lillian and Eleanor had walked up and down in front of their lodge, hoping and praying for the return of the wanderers. What did it matter if they stayed all the rest of their lives on the deserted island, if only Madge and Phyllis were with them!

About eight o'clock in the evening Miss Jenny Ann, who was patroling the woods near by, heard a faint halloo. A few minutes later two homesick and footsore girls stumbled into her arms.

CHAPTER XVII

CAN WE GO TO THE RESCUE?

Several days had pa.s.sed since Madge and Phil had returned. A big fire roared up the chimney. Madge lay on a blanket spread over some hemlock boughs in one corner of the room. Phil sat near her, feeding the fawn from a cup with a spoon.

Miss Jenny Ann had an open book in her lap, while Eleanor peered over her shoulder. A single candle burned near them. Lillian sat by the fire. Every now and then she threw an armful of pine cones on the fire to make more light in the room.

Miss Jenny Ann was trying to instruct four of her pupils from "Miss Tolliver's Select School for Girls" in the intricacies of algebraical problems.

Since the disappointing trip to the opposite sh.o.r.e of the island Madge had not been well. The sunshine had faded. The cold autumn rains had begun. The food in the larder, supplied from the houseboat, had grown perilously low. It was hard work to spend many hours in hunting or in fishing in such weather. Nuts had commenced to pall as an article of daily diet. Fight as they might, the spirit of the houseboat party had begun to sink toward zero.

Suppose, after all, thought they, that they should not be rescued, even by the first Monday in November, when Madge a.s.sured them the duck shooting began? Perhaps there would not be any ducks this year, or else no one would come to shoot them? There was nothing too dreadful to imagine!

Instead of being comforted by Madge's and Phil's report that they were not alone on the island, Miss Jenny Ann was the more uneasy. She did not believe that such a man as the girls had seen would help them to leave this island.

Miss Jenny Ann had been trying to beguile the tedium of the stormy days by interesting the girls in the lessons they would even now have been studying at Miss Tolliver's school if their houseboat had not sailed away from her anchorage. All the old school books had been brought up from the "Merry Maid." At first the girls were much pleased with Miss Jenny Ann's idea. Eleanor declared that it would be splendid not to be behind their cla.s.ses when they returned to school that fall.

To-night, however, it was quite impossible to take a proper interest in algebraical problems, when each member of the little group had such a serious individual problem staring her in the face. It did not look as though they were likely to return to Miss Tolliver's in the immediate future.

"A penny for your thoughts, girls," remarked Miss Jenny Ann suddenly.

"Eleanor, dear, I am going to begin with you. We are all in the dumps to-night. Perhaps it will cheer us up to tell one another our thoughts."

Eleanor shook her head. She had been pretending to look over Miss Jones's shoulder, but her eyes were really full of tears.

"Don't begin with me," she pleaded. "My thoughts wouldn't cheer anybody up."

But the girls were firm. Eleanor must tell them.

"Oh, very well," she agreed. "I was thinking of 'Forest House' and Mother and Father. I could smell Aunt Dinah's light rolls browning in the kitchen oven, and the ham broiling, and----"

"Oh, please stop, Nellie!" begged Madge huskily.

But Eleanor would not stop. "I was wondering if Mother and Father believed now that Madge and I were drowned!"

Eleanor dropped her head. There was a dreadful silence in the room that made Miss Jenny Ann realize that the girls were near to breaking down.

"What were you thinking of, Madge?" she demanded in desperation. Madge could usually be depended on to cheer the other girls.

The little captain shook her head despondently. "I was thinking of my father," she answered, almost under her breath. "I was wishing that I could find him, and that he would take me home."