Part 9 (1/2)

”Please take them,” he urged, handing the open package to Lillian.

”We mustn't take them from you,” protested Lillian. ”We thank you for the coffee. That will do nicely until we get back to our boat.”

The stranger laughed. ”See here,” he protested, ”not an hour ago, when I left the hotel, where my mother and I are spending the summer, I ate three eggs, much bacon, four Maryland biscuit and drank two cups of coffee. Fragile creature that I am, I believe I can exist on that amount of refreshment for another hour or so. But whenever I go out on a few hours' hunting trip, my mother insists that the steward at the hotel put me up a luncheon. She is forever imagining that I am likely to get lost and starve, a modern 'Babe in the Woods,' you know. By the way, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Curtis, Thomas Stevenson Curtis, if you please, but I am more used to plain, everyday Tom.”

The girls acknowledged the introduction, then by common consent they began walking away from the cabin.

A short distance was traversed in silence, then Madge said abruptly, ”Who do you suppose locked us in, Mr. Curtis?”

”I don't know,” answered Tom Curtis darkly, clenching his fist. ”But wouldn't I like to find out! Have you an enemy about here?”

Madge shook her head. ”No; as I said, we came to the neighborhood only yesterday. We have met only the farmer and his wife, who allowed us to land.”

”I'll make it my business to find out who served you such a dastardly trick, Miss Morton,” Tom returned. ”I expect to be in this neighborhood all summer. My mother isn't very well, and we like this quiet place. Our home is in New York. I was a freshman last year at Columbia.”

Only the day before Tom Curtis had informed his mother that he found the neighborhood too slow, and that if she didn't object he would be glad to move on. But a great deal can happen in a short time to make a young man of twenty change his mind.

”Thank you,” replied Madge sedately. ”I'll be on the lookout for the wretch, too. Now we must hurry back to our chaperon, Miss Jones. I won't ask you to come with us this morning, but we shall be very glad to have you come aboard our boat to-morrow. We haven't named her yet, but she is so white and clean and new looking that you can't possibly mistake her. She is lying on an arm of the bay just south of these woods.”

”I'll surely avail myself of the invitation,” smiled Tom Curtis as they paused for a moment at the edge of the woods. Below them the blue waters of the bay gleamed in the suns.h.i.+ne. And yes, there was their beloved ”s.h.i.+p of Dreams.”

”Oh, you can see her from here!” exclaimed Madge, her eyes dancing with the pride of possession. ”See, Mr. Curtis, it is our very own 's.h.i.+p of Dreams' until we give her a real name.”

”She's a beauty,” said Tom Curtis warmly, ”and I really must have a closer look at her.”

”Then come to see us soon,” invited Phil audaciously.

”I will, you may be certain of it. Good-bye. I hope you won't suffer any bad effects from your strenuous night.” The young man raised his cap and, whistling to his dog, strode off down the hill.

”What a nice boy,” commented Lillian.

Madge, however, was not thinking of Tom Curtis; her mind dwelt upon their chaperon, and the long, anxious night she had spent alone on the houseboat.

Poor Miss Jones! Her vigil had indeed been a patient one. From the time the hands of the little cabin clock had pointed to the hour of six she had anxiously awaited the girls. She had cooked the dinner, then set it in the oven to warm. At seven o'clock she trudged up the hill to the farmhouse to make inquiries. No one had seen the young women since they pa.s.sed through the fields early that afternoon. At nine o'clock a party of farmers scoured the country side, but the extreme darkness of the night had caused the young men to discontinue their search until daylight.

At dawn Miss Jones flung herself down on her berth, utterly exhausted.

She would rest until the search party started out again, then she would hurry to the nearest town and inform the authorities of the strange disappearance of the girls. As she lay with half-closed eyes trying to imagine just what could possibly have happened to her charges, a familiar call broke upon her ears that caused her to spring up from her berth in wonder.

”We've come to see Miss Jennie Ann Jones,” caroled a voice, and in the next instant the bewildered teacher was surrounded by four tired but smiling girls.

”We were locked up all night in a log cabin in the woods,” began Madge.

”Do say you are glad to see us and give us some breakfast, Miss Jennie Ann Jones, for we were never so hungry in all our lives before, and as soon as we have something to eat, we'll tell you the strangest story you ever heard.”

With her arm thrown across the teacher's shoulders Madge made her way to the houseboat, followed by her friends. At that moment, to the little, impulsive girl, Miss Jennie Ann Jones seemed particularly dear, in spite of her mysterious ways, and Madge made mental resolve to try to believe in their chaperon, no matter what happened.

CHAPTER IX

THE GIRL ON THE ISLAND

”Phil, it looks like only a little more than half a mile over to the island. Do you think we can make it?” asked Madge, casting speculative eyes toward the distant island.