"I love our woods and sometimes I think I would like to live here always, Phil," returned Madge, "but it is our duty to get away when we can. It may be best for you and me to search over this whole island until we find those two men again."

The door of one of the hunting lodges stood wide open. Phil put down her fawn on a mound of soft grass and flashed cheerfully in. "Here I am at last, hungry as a bear!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad to be at home again."

Eleanor and Miss Jenny Ann were bending over the fireplace, stirring something savory in a big iron pot.

Lillian was putting the finishing touches to the small kitchen table, which had been transferred from the houseboat to the center of one of the cabin rooms. In the middle she had placed a great bunch of scarlet berries and wild sumach leaves. At one end was a dish of roasted chestnuts, cracked hickory nuts and walnuts. On the other, piled on a plate of leaves, were a few wild fruits that Eleanor had been able to find that morning.

The single dirty room which the houseboat party discovered had now been transformed. This lodge was now used for the living quarters of the houseboat derelicts, the other little house for their sleeping apartment. The hemlock beds had been swept away, and the whole place scrubbed as clean as possible.

The room was bright with the October sunlight. The walls were hung with trophies of the woods, branches of scarlet leaves and vines of wild clematis. In one corner of the room the big wood basket was filled with nuts of every kind, gathered after the first frost, the girls' sole provision against the winter. A string of fresh fish, Madge's and Lillian's morning catch, was floating about in a bucket of fresh water.

The girls gathered around the table. Miss Jenny Ann lifted up the great iron pot and poured a savory stew into a great bowl.

"Guess what it is, Phil?" cried Madge. The dish was filled with potatoes, brought over from the houseboat larder, and big pieces of a dark, rich looking meat.

Phil shook her head. "I can't guess. I'd rather eat," she replied.

"It's old 'Marse Terrapin.' Don't you remember him in the story of Uncle Remus? Lillian and I found him strolling along the shore. Who says we are not full-fledged Crusoes?"



CHAPTER XIV

CAUGHT IN A STAMPEDE

"Good-bye, Madge, dear!" sighed Eleanor mournfully.

"Say 'au revoir,' but not 'good-bye,' sweet Coz," sang Madge lightly.

She was strapping her school satchel across her back like a knapsack. The girls were attired in their shortest, darkest gowns, and ready for the road.

Miss Jenny Ann hovered near, her face very white and her eyes swollen. "I feel I am very wrong in letting you girls attempt it alone," she protested. "To think that I should have been overtaken with an attack of influenza just as we were about to cross the island is too awful! Don't you think you had better wait until I am well enough to go with you?"

Madge shook her bronze head firmly; Phil's black head followed suit.

"My dear Miss Jenny Ann," protested Madge, "the men Phil saw may have come onto this island simply to stay only a day or so. Unless we go in search of them at once, they may escape us altogether."

"Don't let anybody worry about us," Phil urged. "Madge and I will be as right as right can be. Suppose we find the island so large that we can not get to the other side and back in one day, what's the difference? We will hang our hammock in a tree and sleep like the birds of the air."

With a solemn face, that she tried to make smiling, Eleanor extracted a pale blue ribbon from her pocket and tied it around Madge's arm.

Lillian, with set lips, performed the same service for Phil, except that her ribbon was red.

When the two girls had finished their tasks Madge and Phil dropped to their knees and kissed the hands of their ladies.

"Behold, Miss Jenny Ann, two true knights!" laughed Madge. "Phil and I are going out in search of assistance for our ladies, who are held prisoners by the waves on the shores of a desert island. Don't you mind; we are going to have a perfectly lovely time."

Madge and Phil were enchanted over the prospect of their adventure. They had had a long talk with Miss Jenny Ann about the two men whom Phil had seen in the woods. The houseboat party had reached a united decision. The men must be found. They must be asked to help the girls and their chaperon to find their way home again; or, at least, to tell them how they could manage to communicate with their friends.

Madge, Phil and Miss Jenny Ann decided to make the trip together.

Miss Jenny Ann felt as though she would have liked to be twins. One of her could then have stayed at home with Lillian and Eleanor, to help them guard their little home; the other could have gone forth on the expedition through the woods with the two more venturesome girls.

The five young women presumed that the men whom Phil had seen must have come ashore within a short time, or else that they lived on the other side of the island. It was possible that there might be a small settlement of people somewhere near the farther shore. In any case the houseboat crew must find out. They must try to get away from their island before winter came.

Madge and Phyllis had a glorious morning in the woods, one that neither of them would ever forget.



The girls set out to travel directly south, guided by Phil's small compass. They turned aside only when the underbrush was too thick to allow them to pass through it. Madge had stuck her soft felt hat in her pocket. She had crowned herself with a wreath of red-brown leaves and sprays of goldenrod. She looked like a figure from the canvas of a great artist.

Phil, who was darker than Madge, might easily have passed for a gypsy. She was deeply tanned by her outdoor life, and her lips were stained with the nuts and berries that she had eaten in their journey through the woods.

Madge had not spoken of the scene with Flora Harris in Mrs. Curtis's dining room since she had landed on the island. Phyllis sometimes wondered if the cruel impression had faded from her friend's mind, but she never mentioned the subject to Madge.

That morning, after the two friends had chatted of many things, all at once Madge grew strangely silent.

"Phil!" she queried abruptly, "do you remember what Flora Harris said to me the night before our shipwreck?"

"Why, of course," answered Phil in surprise, "I could not forget. But I hope you have not been letting your mind dwell on such foolishness."

"I have never stopped thinking of it a minute, day or night," returned Madge quietly. "I don't mean that I have just thought about the insult to my father. Flora Harris told me that after my father was dismissed from the Navy in disgrace he went somewhere. She did not speak as though he had died. Do you know, Phil"—Madge spoke in low, hushed tones, though there was no one in the woods to hear her—"I have always thought of my father as dead. I know that Aunt Sue has always led me, perhaps unconsciously, to think so. But now I can not recall that she has ever really told me that he was dead. Phil, dear, do you think it possible that my father is alive?"

Phil was silent. What could she say? If she should agree, saying that Madge's father might be alive, it was to confess that Captain Morton had really suffered disgrace. Else why would he have disappeared and deserted his baby daughter?

"I don't know," was all she managed to falter.

Madge walked on quietly, with her proud little head held high. "If my father is alive, Phil, I don't care where he is, I shall find him, even if I have to look the wide world over. I know that he is innocent, but I can't tell you how I came by the knowledge. It is my secret."

Phil reached for her friend's hand, giving it a warm, firm pressure, then they walked on in silence.

All morning they had been tramping through woodlands. At noon they came to the edge of one wood. A clearing stretched ahead of them.

On the edge of this clearing they sat down to their luncheon. While the two chums were eating they heard the strangest and most peculiar noise either of them had ever listened to in their lives. It was the tramping and rushing of many feet, like a charge of cavalry. Once or twice before, since they had taken up their abode on the island, the girls had caught a faint, far-off echo of just such a sound. To-day it sounded much nearer.

"What was that?" demanded Phil quickly, raising her hand.

"It sounds like a cavalry charge," returned Madge, trying to smile, though feeling vaguely alarmed.

The noise swept nearer, like the rush of the wind. Then it stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

Neither girl offered to stir from under the tree where they had halted in order to go on with their pilgrimage. The mystery of the noise that they had just heard made their adventure seem far more perilous. What on earth was it? What did it mean?

The atmosphere was clear. The travelers guessed they must have come to about the center of the island. It was a broad, open plateau, covered with grasses and wild flowers. Neither of the girls thought of how curious it was to find the grass cropped as close to its roots as though it had been cut down by a mowing machine.

Phil was walking slowly ahead. There was an opening through a double avenue of trees, and Phil wanted to find out whether they could get through the woods by this cut. For the moment Madge's back was turned to Phil. She was reaching up for a particularly splendid bunch of Virginia creeper that clung to a branch over her head.

Like a roll of thunder from a clear sky, or the rumble of heavy artillery, came the noise that they had heard before. It was indeed the rushing of many feet and it was coming nearer.

Phil ran toward a low-branched tree. "Climb the tree, Madge!" she cried.

But Madge only stared intently ahead of her.

Some distance ahead a single dark object made its appearance. It walked on four feet, had a thick, shaggy mane, and its long black tail swept the ground in a proud arch. Its coat was rough——

Madge clapped her hands. To Phil's horror her chum started to run forward, instead of taking refuge in a tree.

"It's only a strange-looking horse!" she cried in relief. Madge had never in her life seen a horse of which she felt afraid.

At almost the same instant, back of the single horse, which was plainly the leader of a drove, appeared another, then a dozen, twenty or thirty more horses. The entire drove was galloping recklessly ahead. It was the noise of their charge that had indeed sounded like a rush of cavalry.

The leader of the horses caught sight of Madge. What must it have thought? A human being had appeared out of nowhere in the midst of its haunts. The wild horse stopped short for an instant, then gave a long neigh to its companions. The other horses ceased their charge; they, too, sniffed the air with the same attitude of surprise and hesitation. Some of them pawed the ground in front of them.

Phil, from her position in the tree, could see everything that happened. She thought she was experiencing a nightmare, or else that she had beheld an apparition which had come out of the pages of her ancient mythology.

To Phil's amazement, Madge stood still during the brief instant when the horses hesitated. It was then she might have saved herself, but she lingered for an instant, then turned to run.

The leader of the drove of horses had made up his mind that he had nothing to fear from the wood-nymph that had tried to block his path. He tossed his shaggy head, giving the signal to his company. The entire troop started on a wild gallop through the avenue of trees. Madge was directly in front of their charge.

Blind fear overtook her. She ran without seeing where she was going. She knew she was about to be run down by a stampede of wild horses, and in her terror she stumbled, then fell headlong. She could hear the horses galloping straight on. There was no time for her to struggle to her feet. She lay face downward, expecting each moment to be trampled to death.

Phyllis took in the whole situation. From her safe vantage in the tree, even more certainly than Madge, she realized the fate that must soon overtake her chum.

Phil's tree was only a few yards from the place where Madge had fallen. Without an instant's hesitation Phyllis Alden dropped to the ground. She must have made one flying leap, for she landed in front of the little captain's prostrate body. If Madge were to be trampled to death, that fate should not come to her alone.

Phil had marvelous presence of mind. What she did she must have done by instinct. There was no time to think. She saw the flecks of white foam between the teeth of the horse that was leading the charge. As it bore down upon her Phyllis lifted up both arms. She gave a wild and unexpected shout, waving both arms frantically before the horse's face.

The horse paused for the fraction of a moment. Phil waved more violently than ever, shouting hoarsely and in more commanding tones. The horse was startled. He looked at Phil with his ears erect and his eyes restless. Then he deliberately swerved from the path that would have led straight over the bodies of the two girls, made a sweep to the right, and thundered on, followed by his drove of wild horses.

From her position, face downward on the ground, Madge had been acutely conscious of everything that had occurred. She seemed to have seen with her ears rather than her eyes. She knew that Phil had risked her own life to save hers, and that Phil's presence of mind had saved them both.

"It's all right, dear," remarked Phil coolly, when the horses had passed out of sight. But the hand she reached out to Madge to help lift her from the ground was trembling.

Once she was on her feet the little captain caught tight hold of Phil's arm.

"It was real, wasn't it, Phil? We did see a drove of wild horses dash by us?"

Phil nodded calmly. "It was much too real for a few seconds," she rejoined. "Now I understand the far-off noise of the tramping of many feet that we have heard before. These horses must always stay herded together. When they are weary of grazing they make these wild rushes. How do you suppose they ever came on this island?"

Madge shook her head. She had no possible guess that she dared to make.

There is a story, which the girls heard long afterward, about this drove of wild horses, that even at the present time lives on an island not far from the Chesapeake Bay. Many years ago a Spanish family had their estate on this now deserted island. When they moved away they left their horses alone on the island. Forsaken by man, these horses returned to the wild, free state in which they lived before they were haltered, harnessed and trained by human beings to become their beasts of burden.



CHAPTER XV

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

It was late afternoon of the same day. The two girls had made their way across the greater part of the island without finding a human habitation or seeing another human being. What had become of the men that Phil had seen in the woods?

How far the girls had traveled they did not know. The way may have seemed long, because there were no paths and they were entirely unfamiliar with the country. But Madge and Phil had made up their minds that there was nothing else for them to do. They must spend the night in the woods. It was out of the question for them to attempt to recross the island before daylight. Perhaps on their way home the next day they might have better luck in discovering the aid they sought.

Though neither of them would have cared to confess it to the other, they were tired. They had been walking steadily since early morning, and they had carried what were, to them, heavy packs.

Phil had a light woven-grass hammock in her bundle that had once been swung across the deck of the "Merry Maid." Madge carried a light, rubber-proof blanket, which was their sole protection against rain. Of course, the girls divided the burden of the food supply for their two days' march.

At last, out of sheer weariness, they dropped their packs under a tree and sat down to rest. They had hoped to have the satisfaction of reaching the opposite side of the island before nightfall. They longed to know if land could be seen from that side, or if passing ships could be hailed from the beach.

Madge's head was resting in Phil's lap when she heard a peculiar buzzing in her ears, which she thought must come from weariness. She sat up with a jerk.

"Don't stir," begged Phil. "You and I are too tired to move on now. I am sure I hear the noise of the ocean. We can't be very far from a beach. Surely, surely, we will find something, or somebody, on this shore."

Madge lay down again and for a few minutes neither girl spoke.

Phyllis was thinking of home. She was also wondering what young Lieutenant Lawton must have thought of her disappearance with his box.

The mysterious box was in the bottom of her trunk in their lodge in the woods. What a time she had had, dragging the trunk ashore, and then, piece by piece, carrying its contents to the lodge! Phil laughed. If Jimmy Lawton wanted his box kept safe, he had certainly given it to the right person. But if he happened to need the contents on land, at the present time, he would have to cry for it.

Phil gave Madge a little shake. "Come on," she commanded. "I have an idea that we had better go to the beach. I can't wait another second. I somehow feel as though we would find friends there. I can't believe that we are the only persons on this island."

Phil's hopefulness was inspiring. Madge sprang to her feet and the two girls hurried ahead, leaving their bundles under the tree.

The booming of the surf soon smote their ears, then the welcome splash and murmur of the waves. Like two little girls, Madge and Phil joined hands and ran down to the open shore.

Far and wide was a waste of water and a pebbly beach. It was lonely, far lonelier than their own shore. The "Merry Maid," riding out on the waves near the spot where they had first found refuge, had given their shore almost a homelikeness.

This beach was dreadful! Besides, it was getting so late. Phil's black eyes suddenly brimmed with tears of disappointment. Madge slipped her arm in Phil's and the two forlorn girls walked up and down the shore, looking in every possible direction for some sign of life.

A fish-hawk rose suddenly from the waves and wheeled over their heads. It uttered a hoarse cry of fright and dropped a good sized fish at the girls' feet. The fish had been too large for the bird to carry.

Madge picked up the fish, which had just been freshly caught out of the sea. "Phil," she said, smiling bravely, "if we are deserted by human beings, we are being fed from Heaven. Let us cook this for our supper. Come, let us go back to the woods, swing our hammock and prepare to make a night of it."

"Let's look just a little farther along," Phyllis begged.

The girls went a quarter of a mile farther up the silent shore, then turned into the woods.

Madge, who was a few rods in advance, gave a sharp cry of surprise.

There, ahead of her, appeared most unexpectedly a small house, not a great deal larger than their own lodge. But it was very differently built. The door of this house had great bars across it; the windows were securely fastened. The walls were fortified with heavy beams of wood. The house looked deserted. Yet in front of the barred door stood a bucket of fresh water and an ax lay on the ground, with some chips of freshly hewn wood near it. Also the girls noticed that the way up to the door had lately been trodden by heavy feet.

Without asking anybody's permission the girls drank long and deeply of the fresh water. Then they knocked on the fast-locked door. There was no answer. They banged again. Madge tried to shake the door. A heavy chain rattled on the inside.

"The house must be empty, Phil," she suggested. "The men you saw must have been here and gone away again. Perhaps they will be back soon. We had better return in the morning to see."

Phil gave a farewell shake to the door.

A voice called out unexpectedly: "Stop shaking that door and come in. What is the use of your trifling with me? Have you lost the key, so that you can't get in? It would be good of you to leave me here to starve."

Madge and Phil felt their knees shaking in sudden terror.

"We are strangers; we haven't the key to your house," answered Phil. "We wished to ask you for help."

A dreary laugh answered the girls. "You must be joking," the voice said. "But if you are human, you will help me get out of this hole. I have been imprisoned for I don't know how long. Oh, it is a long story. Once I am out, I can explain everything to you. I promise not to harm you."

"Why do you wish to get out?" demanded Madge, trying to gain time until she could master her amazement.

The voice inside laughed less hoarsely. "Oh, I want to get out to breathe, to get away from this beastly hole and to attend to my own affairs. I could go on giving you reasons all night. But please hurry. Batter down the door! I don't see how the house has ever happened to be left unguarded so long. You are young boys, I suppose. Your voices sound like it. If you'll let me out, I'll do anything in the world for you," continued the prisoner, "only, make haste!"

"What shall we do?" whispered Phil.

"I don't know," returned Madge. "I am afraid there is a crazy person shut up in this house. Perhaps the men you saw were his keepers."

"But he talks as though he were sane," argued Phil.

"Crazy people often do," retorted Madge. "I've read that!"

"Madge, let's open the door," entreated Phil. "The voice doesn't sound as if the man were crazy. Think how dreadful if some one is really shut up here on this deserted island against his will!"

Madge hesitated. "It will be dreadfully foolish of us, Phil, to open the door. There is no telling what trouble we may bring on ourselves."

"For the love of Heaven, please open the door. I swear to you that there is no reason in the world why I should be kept imprisoned here. If you will only help me to get away, I can prove it to you." This time the voice pleaded desperately.

Phil seized the ax. "We can run for our lives once the door is open. I believe we have been sent to save this person."

"All right, Phil. I won't turn coward unless you do." Madge picked up a sharp stick to pry under the door.

Phil had struck her first blow when Madge, whose ears were open to every sound, cried sharply: "Stop! There is some one coming. Do let's run!"

Phil dropped her axe as softly as possible. Then she and Madge took to their heels. They ran through the thicket of trees, back behind a dense growth of underbrush. They had never run so fleetly or so silently before. A single glance had revealed the figures of two men approaching the prison-house from the beach. Not for worlds would the girls have been discovered hammering at their door. They had crossed the island to ask for succor. They needed friends. Suppose these men had seen them trying to break into their house? They might have been taken for common thieves. Madge and Phil were quick to repent of their foolishness. They had not come forth on their long pilgrimage to save a man locked up in a hut; they had come to find aid for Miss Jenny Ann and the other girls.

It was almost dark when they made their way back to their packs, which they had left under a tree. They made a fire, fried their fish, and ate their supper.

Then they swung their hammock in the branches of a great, low-armed sycamore tree. Neither was afraid, though the night was dark and they were far from their lodge, which to-night seemed like home. They were too weary to lie awake. By the time the stars were out they had crawled into their hammock together and covered themselves with their blanket. All night long they slept serenely, the good fairies keeping watch over them.



CHAPTER XVI

THE DISAPPOINTED KNIGHTS

Not long after daylight the two girls were out of their hammock bed. But they waited until a reasonable hour before they approached the house in the woods to ask for assistance. Then they walked back to the place cautiously and quietly. To their relief they saw an old gypsy woman stirring something in a pot by an open fire. A young boy was busily cleaning some fish.

The explorers walked directly up to the boy, who did not turn or take the slightest interest in their approach. But when Phyllis touched him on the arm he whirled about, dropped his fishing knife, and gave a queer, guttural call.

The old gypsy woman came toward Madge and Phil, looking alarmed, but brandishing a long stick.

"I don't wonder you are surprised," apologized Phil. "But, really, we are not ghosts; we are human beings. We have been shipwrecked on this island for two weeks and you are the first human beings we have seen. Can you tell us how we can get away?"

Still the boy stared and the gypsy woman made menacing gestures. The boy was about sixteen. He had handsome features and wavy black hair, but a strange, half-stupid expression.

"Why don't one of you speak?" demanded Madge in her impatient fashion. "We wish to know who lives in that house over there? Go and tell them we wish to speak to them."

The boy put his fingers on his lips, moving his hand curiously in the air. Then the girls understood. The gypsy boy was deaf and dumb.

It was vexatious to have struggled across the whole island, to have been nearly trampled to death by a drove of wild horses, only to discover a crazy person shut up in an old house, a deaf and dumb boy and a stupid old woman keeping guard.

Madge's sense of humor came to their rescue. She threw back her head and laughed. As her merry laugh rang out the back door of the house was burst suddenly open. A savage-looking man dashed out. "Who's there?" he demanded angrily. "I thought I heard strange voices."

The man ran down the few steps that led to the yard, staring at the newcomers as though he had seen an apparition.

Phyllis bowed to the man politely. Madge smiled at him with engaging frankness. But he paid no attention to their friendly overtures. He raged, stormed and talked to himself. Neither would he listen to Madge's explanation of their appearance.

"Won't you please be good enough to tell us how we can get away from this island?" Madge finally demanded in desperation. "We are very anxious to get back to the mainland, so that we can let our friends know where we are."

"I'll tell you how you can get away from this house in double-quick time. Be off with you!" roared the man. "What do you mean by turning up here and scaring a man out of his wits? We thought this island didn't have a soul on it but us."

"What are you doing here?" asked Phil quietly.

The man turned red and stammered. He was too stupid to think of a prompt answer.

At this moment a man who had all the appearance of a gentleman appeared at one side of the house. He bowed pleasantly to Madge and Phil, but did not try to conceal his amazement at seeing them.

The girls were equally nonplussed. They certainly had not been prepared to meet a gentleman in this oddly assorted company.

"I overheard your story," he remarked pleasantly. "You will forgive the surprise of my servants at your unexpected presence. We presumed we were alone on the island. It is supposed to be entirely uninhabited, except in the hunting season. The place is so desolate that I brought this gypsy lad and his mother over to look after my man and me. I am sorry that I can not offer you any assistance in returning to your homes at present. My boat brought me to this island and left me, as I wish to be entirely alone."

"How funny!" exclaimed matter-of-fact Phil. "I should think you would be awfully lonely."

"I am—I am recovering from an attack of the nerves, due to overwork," replied the stranger suavely.

"And are you all alone in the house, except for your servants?" questioned Madge, with her most innocent, far-away expression.

"Yes," replied the man in the same moment, fixing his cold, blue eyes on Madge and Phil. "I am entirely alone in the house except for my man. The gypsy woman and her boy Jeff live in a tent a little distance off. I am sorry you have had your long journey across the island for nothing. The boy will show you a shorter way back. Rest assured that as soon as my boat comes for me, I will communicate with you. Until then it is wisest for you not to return to this side of the island."

The stranger spoke to them with perfect courtesy, but they knew that he would admit of no trifling. If they had heard a sound in the house that was not meant for their ears, they must pretend to be deaf.

The man summoned the deaf and dumb lad by a gesture. He talked to him on his fingers for a few minutes. The boy grinned and nodded, as though he thoroughly understood.

"I have told this fellow to show you a short cut across the island," the stranger said politely, turning to the girls. "He is ready to start—at once."

The man's eyes narrowed. There was no mistaking his meaning.

It was in vain that Madge and Phil insisted that they could find their way home without assistance. 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 passed a single familiar object since we started."

So far the girls had meekly and unquestioningly followed their guide. Now a doubt assailed 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 compass. 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 passes 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 passed 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 shore 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 assured 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 classes 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."

"Lillian, what are you dreaming about to-night?" Miss Jones questioned next.

Lillian glanced plaintively into the fire. She popped a particularly fat kernel of a walnut in her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully before she replied. Then, still picking at her nuts with a hairpin, she confessed: "I was thinking, Miss Jenny Ann, that, if once I got back home, I would never, never eat another nut, not even at Christmas."

The girls forgot their woes and shouted with laughter.

Phil stroked her little fawn gently. She glanced up and surveyed her four friends squarely. Her face wore its most serious and determined expression.

"I have been thinking, Miss Jenny Ann, that it is about time for us to leave the island," she announced.

"My dear Phil, how original you are!" broke in Eleanor, with a pettish gesture.

But Miss Jenny Ann looked straight at Phyllis. She knew that Phil meant something more than mere idle talk by her speech. Evidently she had been considering the situation.

"You see, we have had a wonderful time. Except for our worry about our families we have had the very jolliest lark of our lives. But now we must go back home."

Phil clasped her hands together and closed her lips. "I mean that we must spend every single minute of our time and thought in arranging to get away from here."

"What are we to do, Phil?" asked Madge. "We have already tried every method."

"For one thing, we must find some better way to signal passing ships at sea. They must be going by this island constantly, only they do not come near enough to see us. Sometimes I believe we will just have to go aboard the 'Merry Maid' again and drift out from shore," concluded Phil.

Eleanor shivered. "We would be taking too great a chance."

"I wasn't advising it, Nellie. I was just thinking that we might have to do it, if we can't get away by any other means. We would be almost sure to meet a ship. Of course, we could never be on the water as long a time as we were before without being seen. The other time it was just a strange accident, due to the storm and the fog, I suppose."

The girls and Miss Jenny Ann frowned thoughtfully. Somehow Phil's idea did not seem to be very pleasing.

It was just such a night as the one on which the pretty houseboat had been cut adrift. The room was still, except for the crackling of the fire. The noises were all on the outside. The owls hooted dismally in the near-by trees. Farther off in the forest sounded the screech of a wildcat. The rain poured down.

A sudden, violent knocking began on the front door of the lodge. It was uncanny—terrifying. Not a single time since the houseboat party came to the lodge in the woods had a hand knocked at their door. To-night, in the heart of a storm, the sound of the blows upon the door filled them with dread.

Miss Jenny Ann rose with shaking knees. Instead of opening the door she quietly pushed her chair against it. It was a feeble barrier. The door was closed only by a wooden latch, which Phil had made.

The banging continued. "Who's there?" Miss Jenny Ann demanded.

There was no reply. Phil came over and stood by her chaperon's side.

"Tell us who it is at the door and we will open to you. We can not open to a stranger," she declared.

Still the stupid beating on the door with no response to the questioning.

Phyllis stood close to the door. "Come here, Madge," she whispered. "Now listen." The two girls were quiet as mice. One nodded to the other. They had each heard a curious guttural sound outside their lodge door.

"It's the deaf and dumb boy, Miss Jenny Ann. Shall we let him come in?" asked Madge.

Miss Jones nodded, and Phil unlatched the door. In the same instant Madge slipped her revolver into her hand, but she kept it hidden behind her skirts.

The boy came slowly into the room, blinking at the light after the darkness of the woods outside. He was wet to the skin and shaking with cold. He gave a grunt of delight at the sight of the fire, then crossed and stood before it, warming his outstretched hands. As though frightened, the lad looked furtively from one young woman to the other.

Five minutes passed. The deaf and dumb lad made no explanation of his surprising visit. It was impossible to ask him why he had come. The houseboat party stared at him in perplexity. The boy stared back again. He was completely fascinated by the beauty of the room and the circle of pretty girls. He had apparently forgotten his errand.

Finally Madge grew tired of waiting for him to make a sign. Surely this wild gypsy boy had not come to their lodge on such a night just to make them a social call. How could she get any information out of him?

With a sudden inspiration she handed the lad a pencil and a piece of paper. Perhaps the boy had some education. Madge printed in large letters the simple words, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" She handed the slip to the youth.

He puzzled over it for a moment. Then his face lit up happily. He pulled out of his pocket a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Madge.

Madge surveyed it gingerly, turning the paper first on one side, then on the other. "The boy is an idiot," she announced positively. "Else why should he have come over here on such a night with this dirty scrap of paper? It hasn't a word written on it." Madge tossed the paper to the ground contemptuously.

The lad made a rush for it. This time he passed it to Phil. He ran his finger along some smudges on the paper.

"Wait, Phil," Miss Jenny Ann suggested, coming toward her with the candle. Phil held up the paper and Miss Jenny Ann put the candle close to it. Five pairs of eyes surveyed it at different ranges.

Written apparently with the finger, in coffee, was the solitary word, "HELP." Below were some indefinite initials, a J, and an N, and a T.

This call out of the darkness was uncanny. From whom could it have come? Madge and Phyllis knew that it must have been sent by the man who was shut up in the house on the farther side of the island.

The girls looked at one another questioningly. "What can we do, Miss Jenny Ann?" asked Phil anxiously.

"Nothing," Miss Jenny Ann responded in a tone that was final.

"Please allow us to write a note, then, and send it back by this boy?" pleaded Madge. "Think how dreadful to be shut up somewhere without a sign from the outside world. I'll just say that we are sorry we can not come to rescue this person, as we have no way of helping him, and that we don't know who he is. It wouldn't be any harm to say that we hope some one else will come to save him, would it, Phil?"

Miss Jenny Ann smiled over Madge's letter, but offered no objection to it.

The boy seemed quite satisfied. Just as he turned to leave, Phyllis called him back.

It occurred to her that she might ask the lad some questions about the mysterious prisoner whom he was trying to befriend, probably at the risk of his own life.

Phil wrote the word, "MAN?" The boy nodded. Then she put down, "OLD?" The youth shook his head violently.

"Ask the boy if the man is crazy, Phil."

Phil printed the word, "crazy," but the boy did not understand. The word was too large to be included in his vocabulary. She tried, "mad," and he bowed his head repeatedly. He frowned, walked up and down the room and stamped his foot.

Even Miss Jenny Ann smiled. "I am afraid we do not know whether the prisoner is insane or just very angry," she said. "But, whoever he is, we certainly have no concern with him. I don't wish to be unkind, but, children, it seems to me that at present we have troubles enough of our own."

And so the strange messenger was sent back to the unknown prisoner with nothing save the regrets of the houseboat party.



CHAPTER XVIII

A NEW USE FOR A KITE

A few days afterward Miss Jenny Ann concluded that she must pay a visit to the men who had been so disagreeable to Phyllis and Madge. She was an older woman, and one not to be trifled with. The man whom the two girls imagined to be in authority over the group of people whom they had seen had promised to come to them as soon as he could help them. He had not come. Miss Jones wished to know why.

Miss Jenny Ann Jones was growing into a very determined character. You would never have known her for the once pale, awkward, embarrassed teacher at Miss Tolliver's school. Her shoulders had broadened, her cheeks were ruddy, her sandy hair was burned to gold. Miss Jenny's muscles were hard and her step vigorous. She had become a hewer of wood and a drawer of water. Pioneer life had certainly agreed with her. She could walk as far and endure as much as Phyllis Alden herself, who was the hardiest of the four girls.

Phyllis and Madge were enraptured with their chaperon's suggestion that they make a second trip across the island. They had never ceased to think and to talk of the poor fellow who had sent out his cry for help to them.

Lillian and Eleanor stayed at home to take care of the lodge. Madge, Phil and their chaperon crossed the island without any special difficulty, and found the secluded house as before; the deaf and dumb boy sat outside on guard. A few rods off the gypsy woman worked near her tent.

Miss Jenny Ann went directly up to her and inquired for her master.

The gypsy woman made no answer, except to shake her fist and utter unintelligible threats. She commanded her son to drive the intruders away, but Jeff, the gypsy lad, never stirred.

"I insist on knowing if your master is in his house, or, if he has gone away, when he will return," demanded Miss Jones.

The gypsy's answer was to pick up a huge stone and hurl it at Madge's head.

At this Miss Jenny Ann, a few weeks before the most timid of women, seized the gypsy by the shoulders and pushed her inside her tent.

"Don't come out again," ordered Miss Jenny. "We intend to wait here until your master comes to speak to us. I don't suppose he will be absent any length of time."

"He ain't going to be back until just before night," the gypsy muttered. But she made no effort, at first, to come out of her tent.

Miss Jenny Ann took up her position on a log half-way between the house and the tent. She insisted that her companions rest near her. It was early afternoon. Now that they knew their way, the trip across the island had occupied only half the length of time that it had taken when Madge and Phil crossed.

Madge and Phil craned their necks and stared at the house.

The deaf and dumb boy grinned cheerfully at them. Except for his presence the house looked silent and deserted. Perhaps the prisoner had been taken away.

"Miss Jenny Ann, do you remember the story of Richard, the Lion-Hearted, and Blondel?" asked Phil plaintively.

Miss Jones was thinking of something else. "What was it, Phyllis?" she asked abstractedly.

"Once when Richard Coeur de Leon was on his way home to England from one of his crusades in the Holy Land, he was cast into prison. There he stayed a long, long time," narrated Phil mournfully, as though the story of the unfortunate king weighed on her mind. "Blondel, Richard's faithful servant and friend, wandered all over the world looking for his master. One day he came outside the very prison that held his king. He began to sing an old song that he and King Richard had sung together many times. Richard Coeur de Leon recognized the song and knew that Blondel waited outside the fortress to save him. He managed to let Blondel know where he was, and the loyal servant helped his friend and king to make his escape."

Madge guessed what Phil's story meant, but Miss Jenny Ann refused to see it.

"Do you think, Miss Jenny Ann," Phil inquired after a pause, "that it would do any harm if Madge and I were to sing outside this prison house to-day? Surely it would be a comfort to the poor man inside to hear the sound of friendly voices!"

Miss Jones frowned. "Perhaps it would not do any harm, Phil, but it certainly would not do the prisoner any good. You have promised me not to try to interfere with this stranger's troubles." Then Miss Jenny Ann's soft heart relented. "Sing, if you like, Phil. I shall be glad to hear you. It will help make the time pass more quickly."

"What shall we sing, Phil?" demanded Madge.

Phil thought for a while. "'America'," she suggested. "If I were put in prison unfairly, I would like to think that I was an American and should some day have my liberty again."

"All right," agreed Madge. "Let's begin."

Sitting on the ground at Miss Jenny Ann's feet the girls sang the splendid song. They forgot the story that had suggested their music. Their voices rang true and sweet. Madge sang the soprano part and Phil the alto. The tune inspired the two girls and gave Miss Jenny Ann fresh courage for the unpleasant interview which she thought lay ahead of her.

It was good for the lost travelers to believe that they were still under the protection of the American Flag. The "Merry Maid" had certainly not drifted away from the Stars and Stripes.

Phil wanted a drink of water at the close of the song. She went up near the house to get it. The bucket stood under a tree a little to one side of the house, out of the vision of Madge and Miss Jenny Ann. Phil was a long time in drinking the water. Distinctly she heard some one inside the house. He was pacing up and down like a frenzied creature.

Phyllis was disobedient. As she passed by the deaf and dumb boy, whose name was Jeff, who still sat at his post of duty, she whisked out a paper and pencil and handed them to him. She pointed to the barred door, and indicated that she wished the paper and pencil carried to the man imprisoned in the house.

Jeff took the things, but he shook his head and made many gestures. He wished Phyllis to understand that he had no way of breaking into the prison house when his master was away. He was left to guard the outside of the dwelling. His master carried the key.

Phyllis went back to her seat near Madge and Miss Jenny Ann. Her face was flushed. She looked miserable and uncomfortable.

A few minutes later Phil saw Jeff leave his position in front of the place he was set to guard. He jumped up and ran to the tent, where he and his mother slept. A short time after he danced out of the tent, carrying a kite with a long tail made of strips of cloth. The boy closed the opening to the tent securely. He hoped to keep his gypsy parent inside. As Jeff ran by the girls, letting his kite fly high in the air, he gave the two girls a significant wink.

"What is the boy going to do?" asked Miss Jenny Ann. "He is just like a child! I wish he could tell us when those two tiresome men intend to return to this spot."

Jeff disappeared around the back of the wooden house. In a few moments the lad reappeared on top of the sloping roof. He had his kite tied to one of the buttons of his coat. He climbed cautiously up the roof until he came to the ledge. Then he sat astride it, with his feet nearly touching the chimney that rose out of the roof. He looked furtively about.

The girls watched the lad in fascination. What was he about to do? The boy deliberately waved to them. Next he took out the paper and pencil Phil had presented to him. He unwound the kite string from his button, got a small stone out of his pocket and placed it inside the paper. Then he tied the pencil and the paper, with the weight in it, to the end of his kite string.

What the boy was going to do Phil was beginning to guess. She was gratified at the success of her ruse, but she felt very guilty and ashamed of herself. Madge and Miss Jenny Ann were wholly unaware that Phil had had anything to do with the deaf and dumb boy's peculiar actions.

But Phil could stand it no longer. Suddenly she broke out: "Miss Jenny Ann, Madge! I have a confession to make to you!"

Phil's face was red with embarrassment. "I gave Jeff a paper and pencil to take to the man inside that house," she went on bravely. "I suppose I ought not to have done it."

Miss Jenny Ann looked worried. "I am sorry, Phil," she answered quietly.

Of course, Phil was more unhappy at her chaperon's quiet speech than she would have been if Miss Jones had scolded her. Not once before, in their two houseboat holidays, had Phil given their teacher and friend any kind of trouble. It had been a point of honor with Phil to help Miss Jenny Ann all she could. Now she had truly fallen from grace.

But Madge and Miss Jenny Ann were so interested in watching the boy on the roof that they said nothing more. Jeff had slid down the roof, and had twined his legs around the small brick chimney. He looked like a monkey as he sat there staring out across the landscape, to see if by any chance the men he feared could be returning. At last he rose to his feet, leaned against the brick chimney and dropped the tail of his kite straight down it. It had occurred to the boy that this chimney connected with the prisoner's room, and that the kite string would carry the paper and pencil down to him.



CHAPTER XIX

THE IMPOSSIBLE HAPPENS

The girls and their chaperon continued their staring. Jeff calmly waited on the roof, with his kite held in his hand.

"I don't suppose there is any danger if the man inside the house simply writes to tell us why he is imprisoned there," protested Madge, trying to help the situation for her chum.

"I hope not," faltered Miss Jenny Ann, "but you know it is very unfortunate for us to make enemies of the men whom we intend to ask to help us by interfering with their prisoner. What possible business have we with the misfortunes of this total stranger?"

"I know, Miss Jenny Ann," agreed Phil, "but if the man tells us who he is, and why he is imprisoned in this place, we can tell his friends of his sad fate after we get away from the island."

Jeff was seen drawing up the tail of his kite with excited jerks. He slid off the roof and came hurrying toward the three women. He motioned to Phil to come away with him to receive the message he had for her. But Phil pointed to their chaperon and signified that she had been taken into the secret. Then Phil untied the piece of paper from the tail of the deaf and dumb boy's kite.

The most impossible things in this world are the things that actually happen. Nothing in fiction is so strange as the facts that take place every day before our eyes. Miracles occur every hour and moment.

Phil opened the note slowly. She passed it to Miss Jenny Ann, but her chaperon insisted that Phil read it first.

The note was written in a firm, bold hand.

"Boys, can't you help a fellow in distress?" the note began. "You must mean to try to aid me, or you would not have sung outside my prison house, or sent me this paper and pencil. I am afraid you are very young. Your voices sounded so. I don't wish to get you into trouble, but if you can think of any way to get me out of this hole, I will defend you with my life against the men who are keeping me a prisoner. I have done no wrong. I am perfectly sane. The people who have imprisoned me wish to keep me out of the world until they have a chance to steal my work. I have been kept here so long that I have been growing desperate. But to know that there is some one interested in my fate has cheered me. I will stick it out now. Can you let me know your names, and where on the face of the earth I am kept a prisoner? If you are not strong enough to get me out of this place, will you, in Heaven's name, telegraph to the Navy Department in Washington for me? Say that Lieutenant James Lawton is being held as a prisoner. Say that he is not a traitor and that he has not run away from his country to sell his invention to a foreign government. Tell the authorities to send troops, or a battleship, if it is necessary, to get me away from this place. Yours truly, Lieutenant James M. Lawton, U.S.N."

Phil turned white. She was sick and faint with surprise. One look at her friend was enough. Madge ran for a dipper of cold water. Phil had just handed her note to Miss Jenny Ann when Madge flung the water in her face. Phil gasped and sputtered indignantly. But she could not speak on the instant.

When Miss Jenny Ann read the note Madge wished she had saved half her dipper of water for her chaperon. Miss Jenny Ann turned as red as Phil did white. "It's quite impossible!" she ejaculated. "I can not believe it is true."

"Have you both gone crazy?" demanded Madge excitedly. "Please let me see the letter that has affected you both so dreadfully." Madge took the note from her chaperon's limp hand. Then she dropped down on the ground.

"Jimmy Lawton!" she muttered in confusion. "Is it the same young man we met at Fortress Monroe? He simply can't be imprisoned on this ridiculous out-of-the-world island with us!"

The three dazed women said nothing more for a few seconds. They gazed stupidly ahead of them.

"What ought we to do?" asked Phil finally.

"Get Lieutenant Lawton out," answered Madge promptly.

"But, children, we shall be murdered if we make the attempt," faltered Miss Jones.

"Not if we can manage to get Lieutenant Lawton out of that place before his jailers return," declared Madge calmly.

Miss Jenny Ann Jones felt the situation slipping out of her fingers. She was ardently anxious to help Jimmy Lawton, if it were possible to aid him without bringing trouble on her girls. She felt suddenly drawn toward Jimmy. Here was a friend on the deserted island. She felt a curious intimacy and sympathy for him. She knew the young officer would help them to make their escape if only he were free.

"How can we ever get into that house?" questioned Phil. "The front and back doors are strengthened with heavy beams. We can't beat them down."

Madge shook her head. "Even if we make our way through one of those doors, we would still not have found the prisoner. He must be locked in an inside room."

The three young women sat in gloomy silence.

The gypsy woman peered out of her tent. The intruders seemed to be in no mischief. She could safely leave her master to attend to them. Jeff, the deaf and dumb boy, had taken up his position as guard outside the front door of the house. He gave the impression of a sentry who had never left his post.

Could any situation be more hopelessly difficult? Phyllis, Madge and Miss Jenny Ann were within a few yards of their friend, whom they had every disposition in the world to help out of his prison house. But how were three girls, without a single tool of any kind, to break open a house that had been strongly fortified with heavy beams to resist any attack from the inside or outside.

"Phil," breathed Madge at last, "I believe I have thought of a scheme to rescue Jimmy Lawton. You and Miss Jenny Ann may think it a perfectly mad one. It is pretty daring, and Lieutenant Lawton will run the risk of losing his life. But if he has the courage——"

"Lieutenant Lawton is a sailor. I don't believe he will be afraid of anything," declared Phil. "But what do you mean? I can't think of any plan by which we can get him out of that place before those wicked men return to stop us."

Madge slipped her hand inside the pocket of her sweater. She brought out a box of safety matches. "I thought we could set fire to the house and burn down the outside door," she proposed. "I suppose I am silly to speak of it."

She read blank disapproval in the face of Miss Jenny Ann. Phil did not wait to discuss the idea with either of them, but leaped to her feet. She rushed around the far side of the house. The biggest stone she could lift, she hurled into the side of the house.

"Lieutenant Lawton!" she shouted. "We are your friends. Your jailers are away. We are going to try to help you out now if we can. We shall set fire to the house and batter in the front door. You may run the risk of being burned up inside the house, but are you willing to take the chance?"

Phil's voice sounded as though it came from a great distance off. Still, the young man inside the house heard her words. The house that kept him prisoner was built of wood, but iron bars had been put up across the windows, and heavy logs were jammed against the doors. It had been utterly impossible for Lieutenant Lawton to make his escape without help from the outside. He had made a friend of the deaf and dumb boy, but the latter had neither the courage nor the skill to get the young man out alone.

At Phil's words Lieutenant Lawton cried out in rapture: "Willing to take a chance? I should say I am! Make your fire in a hurry. But I say, boys, if you see my jailers coming while you are at work, take to the woods. Hide there. Once you get this beastly place afire, I will manage to make my way out. All I ask is a fighting chance."

Madge came up with her precious matches. Miss Jenny Ann stationed herself to watch for the return of the two men they feared.

Phil, Madge and Jeff gathered a pile of light, dry wood and placed it just in front of the heavy log door. Jeff brought the ax which he used for his wood-chopping and laid it at Phil's feet.

It was difficult work to get the wood ablaze without paper. Finally a few tiny sticks caught and blazed up. A moment later they died down into a little heap of embers, without even faintly scorching the wooden door that they were expecting to set on fire. A few moments of hope, then nothing but burnt-out ashes.

The situation looked desperate. The girls had plenty of matches, yet they could not start a blaze without paper. It would take so long to coax the great logs to kindle from the bits of trash. And Jeff dared not go inside the tent for paper and kindling, for fear his mother would discover what they were doing.

Miss Jenny Ann was growing more nervous every minute. "Hurry!" she cried every few seconds. "I am sure those men will return before you ever get the wretched place afire. What is taking you so long?"

"We have no paper to make the fire burn, Miss Jenny Ann," cried Phyllis in desperation.

"Paper!" returned their chaperon in disgust. "Have you children lived for two weeks on a desert island without learning to make what you have serve for what you desire?"

Miss Jenny Ann slipped out of her white cotton petticoat and ran to the house to present it to Phil. "Here, use this for paper," she insisted. "I have on a heavy serge skirt and shall not miss it."

Cotton is almost as inflammable as paper. Carefully, Madge, Phil and the deaf and dumb boy made another pile of little and big sticks just outside the door they desired to burn down. Miss Jenny Ann's petticoat lay, as a sacrifice, underneath the pyre. The skirt started a splendid blaze. Madge and Phil fanned the flames gently toward the front door. The chips caught, then the larger sticks, at last one of the logs of the door smouldered and flamed.

It took only a short time to get a fair fire started. But it seemed a long time to the workers—and a century to the man who waited inside.

He said nothing, gave no directions. He only walked up and down the small room that held him fast like a caged lion.

Half of the lower log of the door burned away. Phyllis seized the ax. It was easy to cut through the half burnt log. She made a hole large enough to crawl through. The flame was only flickering about its outside edges when she crept inside the house with her lap full of sticks, and Madge's box of matches in her hand.

Madge saw her chum disappear into the house with horror. There was no danger at the time. The front of the wooden house was burning slowly. But if the entire front should blaze up, Phil, as well as Lieutenant Lawton, might be imprisoned inside.

Phil was not in the least alarmed. Once inside the dark house she found herself in a square room. A hall led out of it with a room on each side. There was no question about which room was Jimmy Lawton's prison. Heavy logs were braced against this door and a big, iron chain fastened it on the outside. It was indeed a prison cell.

Phyllis dropped down in front of this door and made her second pyre. This time her own petticoat was used as a burnt offering.

"The front of the house has begun to burn," she explained quietly to Lieutenant Lawton. She did not mention that a friend had come to his aid. This was no time for unnecessary explanations.

"All right," the young man answered briefly. "Don't you think you had better get out pretty soon? The fire will be creeping toward you."

Phil made no reply. She now saw that her second fire was beginning to catch. She must burn away this inside door, or else Jimmy Lawton would be caught in a trap. The door was chained and would not be easy to break down.

Phyllis Alden had acquired one habit of a boy during her brief life in the woods. She always carried her pocket knife with her. To-day she was grateful for the habit. There was a small crack between two of the thick boards of the door. While she waited for her fire to burn Phil whittled at this slit, until the opening was large enough to slip the knife through.

"Make the opening as large as you can," she suggested to the prisoner.

For the first time during his weeks of imprisonment Jimmy Lawton had something with which to work for his freedom. He cut furiously at the door, while Phil continued to fan the fire toward it with her skirt. Both of them forgot, for the moment, what might be taking place on the outside of the house. They were intent only on demolishing the hateful door behind which Lieutenant Lawton had been forced to remain so long.



CHAPTER XX

THE RECOGNITION

Madge had kept guard before the flaming door, with Jeff dancing about her, making frenzied gestures of excitement. Miss Jenny Ann had been torn between the necessity for watching for the approach of their foes, and at the same time seeing what Phyllis was doing inside the burning building. She darted from one place to the other, fairly beside herself with anxiety.

But there was little work for Madge to do now, except to watch and wait for Phyllis. The little captain was growing worried. The flames, that had been so long in catching, were now spreading across the entire front of the house.

"Come out, Phil!" she called. "You must not stay in the house any longer, you have done all you possibly can." She crept as near to the house as she could. The heat was scorching. She could just catch a glimpse of her chum at work on the inside.

The wind was blowing so that the smoke poured into the house. The danger was not so much from the fire as that Phil and Lieutenant Lawton would be stifled by the thick smoke.

Jimmy Lawton could feel the waves of heat entering the house.

"Please clear out, young fellow," he urged Phyllis. The idea that she was a girl had never dawned on him. In their few words of conversation he had been too excited to think of the girlish tones of her voice. "I am afraid you will be burnt in this place. You have done all you can for me. Once this room is in flames I will fight my way out."

Phil's answer was to pick up the ax, which she had dragged into the house with her. Lieutenant Lawton had made a hole in the door large enough to thrust his hand through. Phil handed him the ax. The young man pulled it through the door and gave a shout of triumph. "Now run for your life, boy!" he commanded. "I'll be after you in a minute. We haven't a minute to lose."

Jimmy Lawton's inside prison door was smoking; one end of it was in flames. Phyllis recognized that there was no reason for her to wait any longer. She realized that she was nearly choked with the smoke. Phyllis turned to fight her way to the hole through which she had come into the house.

A solid wall of smoke met her gaze. The small room at the front of the house might have been any size or shape. It was impossible to see anything in it except the leaping tongues of flame in front.

Outside, Madge called in terror, "Phil! Phil!"

Guided by the sound of her friend's voice, Phil groped her way. She struck a chair in the way and fell on her knees.

There was a noise behind her, and Phyllis felt a man's hand grope for hers. He pulled her quickly to her feet. "Close your eyes and keep your mouth shut," he ordered. "We will both be out of this in a moment."

In one place the smoke was less dense and a faint breath of air penetrated the room. Phil felt herself lifted off her feet and thrust through this opening almost into Madge's arms. Her skirt was on fire, but Madge had beaten out the flames before Jimmy Lawton joined them.

Even now the young man did not recognize his rescuers. He was dazed, weak from his long confinement, and only anxious to be off.

"Let's get away from this place!" he cried. Blindly he reached out for Phil's hand the second time. Madge seized hold of Miss Jenny Ann. They started toward the thick woods on a run, forgetting their friend, Jeff. So far they had not been interrupted by the men they feared.

"Look ahead!" called out Madge sharply under her breath. Her quick ears had caught the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Hide in the thicket," Jimmy commanded. He pulled Phil down behind a fallen log. Madge and Miss Jenny Ann crouched behind some thick bushes. They waited in absolute silence.

Now, for the first time, Lieutenant James Mandeville Lawton opened his eyes and surveyed his deliverer!

He stared and blinked, and stared and blinked again, until Phil wanted to laugh aloud in spite of their danger, the young man's expression was so ludicrous.

"Great Scott!" he muttered. "I never dreamed my rescuers were girls."

Phil put a warning finger on her lips.

They waited until the noise they had heard had completely died away. Then Lieutenant Lawton sprang to his feet, ran to Miss Jenny Ann and took both her hands. "Your appearing on this island is like a miracle!" he exclaimed. "Tell me how you happen to be here? I would never, never have let you run the risk of trying to save me if I had known you were girls instead of boys."

Madge laughed. "Mr. Lawton, girls are equal, nowadays, to any situation that a boy can master."

The little party had not gone on much farther before they heard the noise of swift feet in pursuit. Instead of walking, as our party of friends had lately done, in order to rest, they broke into a run. Still their pursuer gained on them.

Lieutenant Lawton thrust the three women behind him. He stood at bay with a stick in his hand as his only weapon.

A wild figure burst upon them. It was Jeff, whom they had forgotten! The poor lad's clothes were torn, as though he had received a severe beating.

Jimmy Lawton dropped his stick. He turned red with shame. "Poor old Jeff!" he cried. "We ought never to have run off without you. Of course, you would get the blame of my escape."

In the days of his imprisonment Jimmy Lawton had learned to understand a few words that the boy could spell on his fingers.

Jeff now managed to explain to them that Lieutenant Lawton's jailers had returned to the house a little while after they made their escape.

They found the prison house in flames and their prisoner gone! The gypsy woman told the story of the appearance of the two girls and their chaperon, and the aid they had given to the prisoner. She made no accusation against her son. But the boy's master demanded to know in what direction his prisoner and the women had run. Jeff would not tell. He had managed to escape from the angry men and, guided by some instinct, he had found his friends in the woods.

"Jeff declares he will show us a way through the island that no one will be able to follow," announced Lieutenant Lawton to Miss Jenny Ann. "Will you allow him to go on with us? The boy has been so good to me that I am going to look after him for the rest of my days."

"Have the men started after us?" inquired Madge.

It took Lieutenant Lawton some time to find out. At last Jeff made him understand. The men had absolutely no idea of any difficulty in overtaking their prisoner and bringing him back to his late jail. They believed that he had no way of escaping from the island, no weapons and no friends except a company of young girls, who would be more of a hindrance to him than a help if he meant to resist recapture.

Jeff announced that he had left the men fighting the flames in the prison house. They meant to put out the fire before they followed the fugitives.

It was now almost dark. The woods were thick with shadows. The party stumbled on. Had it not been for Jeff, they must have spent the night in the forest. But the deaf and dumb boy had the gift of remarkable sight. He could see almost as well by night as by day. No other mortal man could have traced the route by which he led his friends home. Jeff was a creature of the out-doors. He knew his deserted island thoroughly.

It was only a little after ten o'clock when the party of three women and two men arrived at the lodge.

Before they got inside the door they caught a whiff of a grateful odor. Lillian and Eleanor had put a great part of their last rations into a big kettle of soup. The last can of tomatoes had been sacrificed, the last half dozen potatoes. Nothing remained but some musty corn meal, a few teaspoons of tea and a little sugar. Unless relief came soon the houseboat party would truly have to be fed from Heaven.



CHAPTER XXI

BACK TO THE "MERRY MAID"

"Rather than put you in this position I would have stayed ten years in that hole," groaned Jimmy Lawton.

The group of young people were huddled close about their wood fire. It was a little past midnight. Each moment they expected to hear a sound at the door that would mean a fight or else the surrender of their captive. The two men would come to the lodge when they found no sign of them in the woods.

"I don't see how you can say you have got us into a scrape, Lieutenant Lawton," argued Phyllis. "What did you have to do with cutting our houseboat adrift? It was Fate that brought us to these shores. And jolly glad we were to get here! If the men come after you, there are only two of them and seven of us."

"But you have no weapons," protested the young officer. "Those fellows will be desperate. None of you must get hurt. If Jeff and I find we can't settle the two men without bringing you into our trouble, you must let me pretend to go back with them. I'll finish my fight after we get away from the lodge."

"Here is something to help you out, Lieutenant Lawton," offered Madge, bringing the young officer the small revolver that belonged to her and to her cousin Eleanor.

Phil produced their cherished rifle. Jeff seized hold of it with one of his queer grunts. The boy lay with his body across the door, like a faithful dog.

The waiting grew very dull. No one came to disturb them.

"Ask Lieutenant Jimmy what happened to him after he left Old Point, Phil?" whispered Eleanor. "I am just dying to know."

In the flickering light of the fire the young officer told his curious story. He had left for Washington, carrying with him the finished model of his famous torpedo-boat destroyer, the little boat that was to bring him fame and glory. On the train, while he was eating his luncheon, two men took seats opposite him at the same table and, ordering their luncheon, fell into conversation with him. Lieutenant Jimmy remembered that when he rose to leave the dining car his head was swimming strangely. His food had in some mysterious way been drugged. He knew nothing more until he woke up some time later. He was on a small boat, bound hand and foot, the model of his invention had disappeared, his pockets were stripped and he was being carried he knew not where. Twelve hours may have passed, or twenty-four. Then Lieutenant Lawton was brought on land and placed in the small fortified house where the girls discovered him. This was all the young officer knew. But he had guessed a number of other things.

There was a moment of sympathetic silence when the young man finished his story. Then Madge turned on him, with her eyes flashing indignantly. "Have you any idea who stole your invention, and why they should wish to keep you locked up?" she demanded.

Lieutenant Lawton nodded. "I have my suspicions. I can be sure of nothing until I get back home. I am afraid I may be too late then. But the firm of ship-builders, of whom Alfred Thornton's father is a member, offered me two hundred thousand dollars to sell the secret of my torpedo-boat destroyer to them, instead of giving it to my government. A short time before I left Old Point I refused their offer, made through Alfred Thornton. I am sure that the men on the train drugged me, assured the conductor that they were my friends and that I had been taken ill. They were allowed to take me off the train. Of course, the rest of their work was easy."

"But I don't see what good the little model of your boat could do any one," said Madge.

Jimmy smiled rather grimly. "It is hard to understand, I know," he agreed. "You are awfully good to let me tell you my troubles. But don't you see that the ship-building firm might, by fraud, get out a patent on my little boat and build dozens of them before I am heard from. Once they have patented my invention it would be difficult, indeed, to get it away from them. Even with the government to back me it would take years of fighting. And I don't know how long it may take me to build another model."

Eleanor felt dreadfully sorry. She did not understand the Lieutenant's explanation. But patents and inventions and any other kind of business discussion were a mystery to her.

Madge and Miss Jenny Ann tried to look very wise. Phil slipped quietly over to a far corner of the room. Lillian was half asleep.

"If you could get to Washington in time, with another model of your boat, before that wicked business firm gets out its patent on the stolen model, you might be able to prevent their securing the patent after all, Lieutenant Jimmy?" questioned Madge earnestly, bringing her brows together in a serious frown.

"Yes, if I were on the spot with the model, and the description of my beautiful little boat, I think I could make things hum for the other fellows," Jimmy agreed mournfully.

Phil came out of the dark corner that held her cherished trunk. She had a box in her arms about a foot and a half long. It looked like a huge box of candy, although it must have been very heavy from the way Phil held it.

She put the box down before Lieutenant Jimmy. "Here is the box you gave me to keep for you," she announced gravely. "I am still willing to take care of it for you, but I wished you to know I still have it."

"Great Scott!" cried Jimmy Lawton for the second time that evening. "Do you mean you have kept this box for me through shipwreck and every other kind of disaster? What a girl you are, Miss Alden! I never meant to speak of it to you."

With shaking hands the young man opened the box. Inside the pasteboard box was a wooden one. Lieutenant Jimmy lifted out as perfect a little toy boat as ever was seen. It was complete in every detail. Lieutenant Jimmy was not ashamed of the fact that his eyes were full of tears as he looked gratefully at Phil.

"It is the exact copy of the model of the torpedo-boat destroyer that was stolen from me," he explained to the girls. "I gave it to Miss Alden to keep for me, because I feared foul play."

Jimmy hugged his tiny boat as though it were his baby. Then he replaced it carefully in its accustomed box. For a time the little party had forgotten that they were waiting to be attacked by two angry men. When Jimmy put his boat away the thought rushed over them again: if only the men would hurry on! Anything was better than this waiting.

Lillian must have been half asleep. She started from her chair with a little cry. Miss Jenny Ann touched her gently. "I thought some one knocked on the door, Miss Jenny Ann," faltered Lillian. "It frightened me. I wish we were at home. Doesn't every one of us in this little lodge to-night wish we were safely away from here?"

"Yes, Lillian," answered Miss Jones gently.

"Don't we wish that we never had seen those wicked men who held Lieutenant Lawton a prisoner?" she went on. The other girls were now gazing at Lillian as though they suspected that she had suddenly lost her mind.

"Lieutenant Lawton, wouldn't you give most anything, run nearly any chance, if you could get back to Washington in a few days?" she persisted.

Jimmy nodded, feeling sure that Lillian was less clever than her friends.

"Very well," continued Lillian, "then I, for one, vote that we follow Phil's idea, and leave this place the first thing in the morning."

"But how, child," demanded Madge impatiently. She had completely forgotten Phil's suggestion of a few evenings before.

"Why, embark on the 'Merry Maid' again, drift out to sea and trust to a ship's picking us up. The tide goes out at five. We had better go out with it. We shall starve to death if we stay here much longer. We have not even enough to eat for breakfast."

Lieutenant Lawton gazed at Phil, without making any effort to conceal his admiration for her idea.

Put to vote, every one of the little islanders voted to trust their fates once more to the "Merry Maid." They would sink or swim with her.



CHAPTER XXII

THE STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER

Through the darkness until early dawn a strange procession wended its way from the lodge in the woods to the decks of the long-deserted houseboat.

Jeff stood at the door of their house, like a faithful sentry, to warn them if danger approached. But the men who had been Jimmy's jailers must have concluded to wait until dawn before coming for their prisoner. They were so sure that he could not escape them.

All the most cherished possessions of the houseboat that had been transferred to the little lodge were now transported to the "Merry Maid" again. A few of their larger articles of furniture were left behind as a thank-offering to the little lodge for the shelter it had afforded them.

Not long before daylight seven wanderers crept down the path that had been worn by the passing of the feet of the stranded girls. They marched out into the shallow water and climbed up the side of the houseboat. Phyllis Alden brought up the rear. She was half-leading, half-pulling along the little fawn she had rescued in the woods. At the last moment Phil had not been able to make up her mind to leave her pet behind. The little creature had grown so used to her care that she was afraid it would die without her.

Madge watched Phil's struggle, her eyes dancing with amusement. At the edge of the water the deer stood stock still. Phyllis and Jimmy had to drag the animal on to the boat.

"Phyllis had a little lamb, little lamb," sang Madge derisively.

When the first rosy streak of dawn shone in the sky the "Merry Maid" was well away from land again. Again the tide bore her on its breast. But how different the time and conditions!

Soon the sun rose gloriously, the blue waters danced and sparkled. The atmosphere was clear as crystal.

The little band of voyagers watched the slowly receding shores of their isle. They threw kisses across the water. As the land faded from sight all their difficulties faded with it. The weeks on the deserted island became the jolliest lark of their lives. It took its place at the top of their list of happy memories.

No one on board the "Merry Maid" seemed to feel any fear for their adventurous voyage. The morning spelled hope and good-luck. A returning ship would bear them shoreward soon.

"Isn't the world lovely, Nellie?" asked Madge almost wistfully, as the two cousins watched the sun change from a golden ball to an all-enveloping light. "I feel that we will soon be home again and our experiences will fade from us like a dream. I wonder if Mrs. Curtis and Tom are still at Old Point Comfort? How they must have searched for us! As for Uncle and Aunt, I can't bear to think of them."

Lieutenant Jimmy, Phil, Miss Jenny Ann, Lillian and Jeff were eagerly scanning the water. If a ship should appear, it could be seen many miles off on such a gloriously bright morning.

Lieutenant Jimmy had the precious rifle in his hand. In his pocket were their last few rounds of ammunition. Lieutenant Lawton's face was as radiant as though he were aboard one of Uncle Sam's own battleships. He was free! The blue waters rolled beneath his feet. What did it matter to a sailor the kind of a ship he sailed?

Phyllis Alden stood next to him. Her black eyes were bright with courage and enthusiasm.

Together they saw first a great, gray cloud of smoke. It was too dark and too low to be a part of the sky on such a morning. Then, moving slowly toward them, still many miles away, appeared the dim outline of a magnificent gray bulk of a ship.

Jimmy Lawton's face, which was white and thin from its long imprisonment, flushed deeply. His voice shook when he turned to Phil.

"Miss Alden," he whispered quietly, "I am afraid to say so, but I believe I see a man-of-war coming this way. It must be going in to Hampton Roads. If it only comes near enough to hear us, I mean to fire a signal of distress with this rifle."

The next quarter of an hour was a strenuous one for every passenger on board the "Merry Maid."



Slowly the majestic, gray craft drew nearer to the little houseboat.

The party crowded forward. No one spoke.

Nailed to their flagstaff, two torn and ragged sheets that had so long appealed in vain for rescue flapped and rustled in the wind.

The women and Jeff saw Lieutenant Lawton raise the rifle to position. Still he waited five, ten minutes. All this time the beautiful battleship steamed nearer. Now her prow was just across the line of the stern of the houseboat. The houseboat party could see the Stars and Stripes floating gloriously in the breeze.

While it was easy for the passengers of the "Merry Maid" to behold an immense battleship it was another matter for the crew on the man-of-war to discover the small pleasure craft adrift on the waters.

Jimmy Lawton fired his rifle. The signal of distress rang sharp and true. The clear air carried the sound magnificently.

At first there was no response from the battleship.

"She has not heard us!" exclaimed impatient Madge in despair.

"Wait!" commanded the young lieutenant.

A splendid boom broke on the air. It was the answering salute from the war vessel. She had heeded the call of the "Merry Maid."

Jimmy repeated his signal of distress. A few moments after the great battleship slowed down. A small boat was dropped over her side. A boat's crew in their blue uniforms rowed swiftly out to the houseboat.

A voice called up: "Who's there, and what can we do for you?"

"Lieutenant James M. Lawton, U.S.N., with six friends, five of them women," returned Jimmy Lawton. "We have drifted from land in a houseboat and ask you to take us aboard."

Soon after Miss Jenny Ann and the girls were safe on board a battleship belonging to the American Navy. The officer in command gave them his hand of welcome. A group of sailors, their faces beaming with curiosity and kindness, crowded as near them as discipline would permit.

The man-of-war took on headway again. Her engines thumped. The superb ship began to move. The houseboat party knew that their peril was over. Home and friends lay safe ahead of them.

Yet neither Miss Jenny Ann nor one of her four girls looked perfectly happy.

"Won't you let me show you to your cabins?" one of the officers suggested.

Reluctantly the five women turned away. But they could not help letting their glances linger with mournful affection on the departing ghost of the poor "Merry Maid." The little boat rocked forlornly on the waves, once more deserted by her friends and owners.

Lieutenant Lawton whispered to Madge and Phyllis: "As soon as we get into Hampton Roads I promise you to send out a schooner to search these waters until she finds your houseboat. The 'Merry Maid' will be lonely without her passengers, I've no doubt. But I do not believe that any harm will come to her."

The man-of-war was expected to enter the harbor of Hampton Roads some time during the afternoon. The girls sat on deck with the captain, who showed them the distant lightship on Cape Charles, and finally the point of land along the Virginia coast where the first English settlers landed in America, on April 26, 1607.

Captain Moore was tremendously interested in the girls and their adventures and experiences. When the ramparts of Fortress Monroe lay off the quarter he reluctantly said good-bye. But he beckoned Madge away from the other chums and walked with her slowly to the prow of his great ship.

"Miss Morton," he said kindly, "I want to talk to you alone. Your chaperon has told me something of your history. Your father was a classmate of mine at Annapolis, and one of the best friends I ever had."

Madge choked and was silent. She did not know what to say, what questions to ask.

"I know that in after years your father got into serious trouble. He was court-martialed because of cruelty to a subordinate," Captain Moore went on. He shook his head gravely. "I never understood it. Robert Morton was one of the kindest and tenderest of men. He was rash and quick-tempered, but he never did a cruel trick as a boy, and a lad shows the stuff the man is made of."

"Captain Moore!" Madge's voice shook, she was obliged to keep a tight hold on the railing of the ship to steady herself, but she looked her new friend squarely in the face, her own white with pain, "do you know if my father is alive?"

Captain Moore was startled. "It can't be that you don't know that, child?" he protested.

"But I don't," she said bravely. "I have always just taken it for granted that he died when I was a baby, because I never saw him nor heard from him. Lately I have had reason to think that he may just have disappeared after his trouble. It has been so long that perhaps he may have died since."