Eleanor and Lillian eyed it hungrily. They suddenly remembered that they had had no breakfast.

"The young ladies had better come up to my ole missus's place?" the boy invited hospitably. "They look kind of petered out. I spect it will take some time to fix up your boat."

The entire company of young people looked up beyond the sloping river bank to the farm country back of it. There, on the crest of a small hill, was a beautiful old Virginia homestead, painted white, with green shutters and a broad, comfortable porch in front of it. It looked like home to Eleanor. "Yes; suppose we go up there to rest, Lillian," pleaded Eleanor. "If Tom can't get his engine mended, we can row back to the houseboat in a little while."

David Brewster and Phyllis Alden had not waited quietly on the "Merry Maid" while Tom and his launch party went out in search of Madge.

Five minutes after the "Sea Gull" moved away David left the houseboat and went on sh.o.r.e.

"Where are you going, David?" called Phyllis after him.

"I am going to look for Miss Morton along the river bank," he answered in a surly fashion. "Anybody ought to know that if an accident happened to her rowboat, the boat would have drifted in to the land."

"I am going along with David Brewster, Miss Jenny Ann," announced Phil.

"It's mean to leave you and Miss Betsey alone, but I simply can't stay behind."

David's face grew dark and sullen. "I won't have a girl poking along with me," he muttered.

"You will have me," returned Phyllis cheerfully. "I won't be in your way. I can keep up with you."

At first David did not pay the least attention to Phyllis, who kept steadily at his heels. Phyllis could not but wonder what was the matter with this fellow, who was so strange and taciturn until something stirred him to action.

Only once, when Phil stumbled along a steep incline, David looked back.

"You had better go home, Miss Alden," he remarked more gently. "I'll find Miss Morton and bring her to you." And Phil, as Madge had been at another time, was comforted by the boy's a.s.surance.

"I am not tired," she answered, just as gently, "I would rather go on."

At one o'clock David made Phyllis sit down. He disappeared for a few minutes, but came back with his hands full of peaches and grapes. He had some milk in a rusty tin cup that he always carried.

"Did some one give this to you?" asked Phil gratefully.

David shook his head. "Stole it," he answered briefly. Phil, who could see that David was torn with impatience for them to resume their march, ate the fruit and drank the milk without protest.

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, when David spied the "Water Witch," drawn up on the river bank out of the reach of the water. Some unknown force must have led him to Madge's hiding place in the woods.

Afterward he made no explanation either to Phyllis or Madge of his unexpected acquaintance with the man who had kept Madge a prisoner, and neither girl asked him any questions.

David managed to get the "Water Witch" out into the river with the single oar, and a party of young people in another skiff, seeing their plight, brought them safely home to the houseboat.

CHAPTER IX

LEAVING THE HOUSEBOAT TO TAKE CARE OF ITSELF

"I should dearly love it," declared Eleanor.

"I think it would be a great lark," agreed Lillian.

"Are you sure you would like it, Miss Betsey?" asked Phyllis and Miss Jenny Ann in the same breath.

"I certainly should," Miss Betsey a.s.serted positively.

Madge was unusually silent. She had been in such deep disgrace since her escapade, both with Miss Taylor and Miss Jenny Ann, that she felt she had no right to express her opinion in regard to any possible plan. But her eyes were dancing under her long lashes, which she kept discreetly down.

Miss Taylor had just suggested that, in view of the fact that Tom Curtis was obliged to take his motor launch to the nearest large town to have it repaired, and their excursion up the river must cease for a time, the houseboat party desert the river bank and spend ten days or more farther inland.

George Robinson had offered to go back with Tom. David Brewster expected to do as he was ordered, but Harry Sears and Jack Bolling positively refused to give up their holiday. And there was no room for them on the houseboat.

Eleanor and Lillian had come back from the old farmhouse, where they had spent the day before, filled with enthusiasm. Mr. and Mrs. Preston were the most delightful people they had ever met. Their house was filled with the loveliest old mahogany and silver, and they had no visitors and no family. Eleanor was sure that, if she begged her prettiest, Mrs.

Preston could be persuaded to take them all in her home until Tom came back with his motor launch.

"You see, Jenny Ann," entreated Eleanor, with her hands clasped together, "every year Mr. Preston has the most wonderful entertainment.

He told us all about it. In August he gives what he calls 'The Feast of the Corn.' All the country people for miles around come to it. He asked me to bring every member of our party over for it at the end of the week. It's just like Hiawatha's feast. Do let's ask them to take us in, if only for a little while."

Miss Betsey Taylor's New England imagination was fired. The house that Eleanor described was just such a Virginia home as she had dreamed of in her earlier days. She must see it. Also, Lillian had related the story of a wonderful sulphur well not many miles from the Preston estate.

Miss Betsey was sure that sulphur water would be good for her nerves.

Two days later the entire party stood out on the deck of the "Merry Maid" to see Tom and George Robinson start off with their broken-down motor launch before the rest of the party moved over to wait for them at the Preston farm.

"I am so sorry, Tom," apologized Madge, with her eyes full of remorse.

"It is really my fault that you will have to miss this part of our holiday. I wish I could go back with the boat instead of you. Can't you send David and stay here with us?"

Tom shook his head. He was ashamed of his previous grumbling. "Of course not. It wasn't your fault. The engine would have broken down just the same if I hadn't been searching the river for you. But I must see to its being mended myself, and Robinson is a brick to go along with me. I shall have no use for Brewster. Perhaps, after all, we may be able to get back in time for the Indian feast. Good-bye, Madge."

A few minutes after the launch was seen moving back down the river, being ignominiously towed by an old horse, the same gay craft that had proudly advanced up the stream only a few days before with the "Merry Maid" in her wake.

The houseboat party waved Tom and George a sad farewell, and then promptly forgot almost all about them in the excitement of moving their clothes and a few other possessions up to the farm, Eleanor having persuaded the Prestons to take them for a few days as boarders.

Mrs. Preston drove down in her own phaeton to take Miss Betsey and Miss Jenny Ann home with her. A farm hand came with a wagon for the trunks.

But the young people decided to walk. The Preston house was only two miles away from the houseboat landing. Sam, the colored boy, who had been Lillian's and Eleanor's original guide to the farm, had been engaged to show them the way.

The houseboat party formed a gay procession. None of the four girls wore hats. Lillian and Eleanor, who took some care of their complexions, carried pink and blue parasols to match their linen gowns, but Madge and Phil bared their heads to the sun, as did Harry Sears, Jack Bolling and David.

Sam lugged a lunch basket, which Mrs. Preston had sent down to the party; and David, who kept in the rear, carried a dress suit case that had accidentally been left behind.

Most of the road ran past meadows and orchards, with few houses in sight. The ripening fruits made the air heavy with their summer sweetness. David was shy and silent, as usual, but the others were in gay humor.

Beyond a broken-down rail fence Phil espied a tree laden with luscious peaches. Farther on, past the orchard, she could just catch the outline of a house.

"Let's get some fruit, Jack?" Phil suggested to Bolling, who was walking with her. They both climbed over the fence.

"Wait a minute, everybody," Phil called. "Wouldn't you like to go up to the old house back there to ask for some water. I am nearly dead, I am so thirsty."

"Don't go in that thar place," Sam entreated, turning around suddenly, his brown face ashen, "and don't eat them peaches. The house is a ha'nt and them peaches is hoodooed."

Eleanor and Madge burst into peals of laughter. The other young people, who were not Southerners, smiled and stared.