Daisy did not answer. The wreath of daisies with which Madge had crowned her little head still hung loosely down among her black curls.

It seemed ages before Dot was safely landed on the ground and gathered in Phil's arms. During that time Madge had never ceased comforting Daisy. But when the basket descended for the second time Daisy refused to get into it. She was too frightened. She clung desperately to Madge and would not unloosen her fat arms from about the girl's neck.

What was to be done? The little captain was afraid to put Daisy in the basket while the little girl fought and struggled. She would probably fling herself out in her fright and be badly hurt. It was almost a miracle the way in which the two babies managed to fall straight down in the well without striking against the sides.

"Can't you coax her, Phil?" asked Madge in desperation. "She is determined not to go into the basket."

But all Phyllis's efforts to persuade her baby sister to return to terra firma via the basket route proved unavailing. Daisy kicked and screamed at the slightest attempt on Madge's part to put her into the basket.

"If you will bring a ladder and lower it into the well I believe I can climb up with Daisy on my back," proposed Madge faintly. The strain was beginning to tell upon her.

"I'll have one down in ten seconds," called David cheerily.

He was back to the edge of the well almost instantly with a long ladder that he had spied leaning against a fruit tree. He cautiously lowered it to the waiting girl.

Madge tested it to see that it was firm, then, setting Daisy down, she bent almost double.

"Climb on Madge's back, dear. Daisy must be very brave. Then we'll go up, up, up the ladder to Sister Dot. Put your arms around Madge's neck as tightly as ever you can," directed the little captain.

The novelty of the situation appealed to Daisy and she fastened her fat little arms about poor Madge's neck in a suffocating clasp. Slowly but surely, in spite of the hampering embrace, Madge climbed steadily to the top, to be met by the firm, rea.s.suring grasp of David's strong hands.

Phil lifted the clinging Daisy from Madge's tired back. The little captain staggered and would have fallen but for David, whose hand on her elbow quickly steadied her.

Then the boy of whom Miss Betsey entertained such unpleasant suspicions, the "ne'er-do-weel" of the community, took charge of the situation with a dignity that surprised even Madge, who believed in him.

"I think it will be best for me to notify Dr. Alden of what has happened. I will telephone him, then drive over and bring him back. It will be better not to let Mrs. Alden know that the children fell into the well. Dr. Alden can look them over. As your mother is recovering from a long illness, she must not be worried or frightened. What do you think of my plan, Miss Alden?"

Phyllis quite approved of the suggestion. She looked at David almost wonderingly. Was this resolute, self-contained young man the surly, unapproachable boy she had always disliked to encounter when calling upon Miss Betsey? She awoke to a tardy realization that whatever faults David Brewster possessed, they were merely on the surface, and that at heart he was a good man and true. And although David never knew it, on that day he made another friend whose friendship was destined to prove as faithful as that of Madge Morton.

That night as the two chums, wrapped in their kimonos, were having a comfortable little session together before going to bed, Phyllis said thoughtfully, "Do you know, Madge, I think David Brewster is splendid. I am afraid I have misjudged him."

"Phil," said Madge with conviction, "David is a man, and I am sure he is good and true at heart, no matter how gruff he may seem on the surface.

I asked Tom to take him with us on the trip, and now that he has consented to go, I feel as though I were responsible for him. I know Miss Betsey believes him to be sneaking and undependable. So far, however, I have seen nothing about him that looks suspicious, and I do not believe him to be a sneak. I trust David now, and I am going to keep on trusting him."

CHAPTER V

PULLING UP ANCHOR FOR NEW SCENES

A motor boat ploughed restlessly about near the broad mouth of the Rappahannock River. It flew a red and white pennant, with the initials of the owner, "T. C.," emblazoned on it. The name of the boat, "Sea Gull," was painted near the stern. It was a trim little craft with a fair-sized cabin amidships and was capable of making eight knots an hour at its highest speed.

"Toot, toot, toot, chug, chug, chug!" the whistle blew and the engine thumped. The captain stood with his hand on the wheel, gazing restlessly out over the water.

"I wonder what can have happened?" muttered Tom Curtis impatiently.

"Here it is, as plain as the nose on your face: the 'Merry Maid' with four houseboat girls, a chaperon and one other pa.s.senger, will join the 'Sea Gull' at the entrance to the Rappahannock River on the southern side of the Virginia sh.o.r.e near Shingray Point, on August first, at ten A.M." Tom looked up from the paper he was reading. "We have the time and the place all right, haven't we, fellows? But where are the girls?"

"Cheer up, old man!" Jack Bolling clapped Tom on the shoulder. "A houseboat is not the fastest vessel afloat. Who knows what kind of tug the girls have had to hire to get them here? And a woman is never on time, anyhow."

"We'll be in luck if the houseboat gets here by to-night, Curtis,"

argued Harry Sears, another member of the motor boat crew of five youths. "Do slow down; there is no use ploughing around these waters. We had better stay close to the meeting place. It's after twelve o'clock; can't we have a little feed?"

"Here, Brewster, stir around and get out the lunch hamper," ordered George Robinson. "We must all have something to sustain us while we wait for the girls."

David Brewster's face colored at the other's tone of command, but he went quietly to work to obey.

"David," interposed Tom Curtis, "come put your hand on this engine for me, won't you? I will dig in the larder if Robinson is too tired. I know where the stores are kept better than you other chaps do, anyhow."

"Tom Curtis is a splendid fellow," thought David gratefully. "Miss Morton was right. He doesn't treat one like a dog, just because he has plenty of money."

David Brewster and Tom Curtis had traveled down from New York to Virginia together. Their fellow motor boat pa.s.sengers they had picked up at different points along the way. David had come to understand Tom Curtis pretty well during their trip--better than Tom did David. But then, Tom Curtis was a fine, frank young man with nothing to hide or to be ashamed of. David had many things which he did not wish the public to know.

The houseboat party had arranged to join one another in Richmond. From there they were to go by rail to a point up the Chesapeake Bay, where the "Merry Maid" had been kept in winter quarters since the houseboat trip of the fall before. A tug was to escort the houseboat to the mouth of the Rappahannock River, where they were to meet Tom and his motor launch.

Phyllis Alden had accompanied Madge to "Forest House," so the two girls and Eleanor were not far from Richmond. Miss Jenny Ann Jones and Lillian had come from Baltimore together. But Miss Betsey Taylor took her life in her own hands and traveled alone. She carried only the expenses of her railroad trip in her purse. But in a bag, which she wore securely fastened under her skirt, Miss Betsey had brought a sum of money large enough to last her during the entire houseboat trip, for when a maiden lady leaves her home to trust herself to a frisky party of young people, she should be prepared for any emergency. Miss Betsey also bore in her bag a number of pieces of old family jewelry, which she wore on state occasions.

When luncheon time pa.s.sed and there was still no sign of the "Merry Maid," Tom Curtis could bear the suspense of waiting no longer.

"Something has happened, or the girls would have been here before this,"

he declared positively. "Bolling, I am going to leave you and Sears to wait here in the rowboat. I am going to look down the coast."

"All right, old man," agreed the other boys. They did not share Tom's uneasiness. Indeed, as the "Sea Gull" headed down the coast, the three men on board her heard Harry Sears shouting an improvised verse:

"Where, oh, where, is the 'Merry Maid'?

What wind or wave has her delayed?

Our hearts are breaking, our launch is quaking, Fear and despair are us overtaking, Where, oh, where----"

The rest of this remarkable effusion was lost to their ears as they glided along.

"It is rather strange that we haven't picked them up yet, isn't it?"

David Brewster said nothing. He was always a silent youth. With Tom's telescope in his hand he stood eagerly scanning the line of the coast as the motor launch ran along near the sh.o.r.e.

"Ho, there!" he cried. "What's that? Look over there!"

Tom shut off speed and hurriedly seized the spy-gla.s.s.

There, apparently peacefully resting on the bosom of the water, was an odd craft, gleaming white in the afternoon sun. Tom Curtis at once recognized the "Merry Maid."

No one on board the houseboat noticed the approach of Tom's motor launch until he blew the automatic whistle. Then, with one accord, the four girls rushed to one side of the boat. They made frantic signals, then all began to talk at the same time.

"What's up? Where's your tug?" demanded Tom. "Here you are, as peaceful as clams, while we have been scouring the coast for you."

"Don't scold, Tom," laughed Madge, "and don't refer to us as clams. We are stuck in the mud. Our wretched little tug brought us too near the sh.o.r.e, piled us up here and then went away two hours ago for help. We were so afraid you would go on without us. What can we do?"