Part 20 (1/2)

But to himself Judge Arthur Hilliard asked the question: ”What in the world are two young girls doing alone on this dangerous sh.o.r.e at such an hour of the night?”

It was well that Phyllis remembered Madge's order, else they might have had some trouble in locating her. As soon as Phyllis saw the friendly light from the oncoming lantern she called at the top of her lungs: ”Here I am! Here I am!”

”Keep perfectly still!” Judge Hilliard commanded. ”I'll have you out in a short time.” He waded into the marsh, his high boots protecting him from the black ooze. When he was about five yards from Phil he flung her the rope. ”Now work your way along toward us,” he directed.

Phyllis obeyed his command and in an incredibly short time was safe on dry land, her shoes heavy with mud.

”It is bad enough to be lost,” declared Phil as she thanked the stranger, ”but it is worse to be not only lost, but stuck in the mud as well.”

”You were in a most unpleasant, though I can hardly say a dangerous plight,” returned the stranger. ”Can I be of further service to you?”

”Would you--could you tell us where we can get a drink of water?” asked Madge. ”We are so tired and thirsty.”

”My name is Arthur Hilliard,” returned the man. ”If you will come to my house, my mother will be glad to offer you refreshment.”

”Thank you,” bowed Madge sedately. ”We will go with you.”

Mrs. Hilliard, a stout, comfortable looking old lady, received the wanderers with true Southern hospitality. Without waiting to hear their story, she insisted that they change their bedraggled clothing for two comfortable looking dressing gowns which she laid out for them, and by the time they had washed their faces and hands and dressed their hair they found a hot supper ready for them in the dining room.

”We are so sorry to have troubled you,” declared Madge apologetically, as Mr. Hilliard entered the dining room when they were finis.h.i.+ng their meal. ”Now we must tell you who we are and how we came to be floundering in the marsh so late in the evening.”

Beginning with their visit to the island that morning Madge related all that had transpired during that long day of adventures. Judge Hilliard shook his head disapprovingly as the tale continued, but listened with grave interest to the part of the story relating to Mollie, the sailor's daughter.

”This girl of whom you speak is like the girl in the fairy story, who has a cruel step-mother and an ogre of a father,” he commented when the story had ended.

”Of course she is,” answered Madge; ”only our girl is not in a fairy story, she is real. I can't believe that that dreadful Mike Muldoon is her father, and I know there must be some way to take her from him and make her happy.”

”We are going to save her yet,” declared Phyllis stoutly. ”I don't see just how we are to manage it, but to-morrow we are going to try again.

How far are we from Fisherman's Island?”

”About thirty miles,” Judge Hilliard replied. ”I have telephoned to the nearest town to let your chaperon know you are safe. The message will be taken over to your houseboat tonight, and I will take you home in the morning. My mother insists that you remain here tonight. She will join us in the library in a few minutes.”

”Thank you again,” said Madge gratefully. ”It was very thoughtful in you to send a message to our friends. In the morning we wish to go first to the Belleview Hotel. We wish to see a friend of ours who is staying there. Her name is Mrs. Curtis.”

”Mrs. Curtis is an old friend of mine,” said Judge Hilliard in pleased surprise. ”I have known her ever since I was a little boy. Now I have something to say to you that may interest you. I told you I was a judge. It is my business to look into people's legal difficulties.

This trouble which concerns your friend looks to me as though it might have a legal side to it. We are in the State of Maryland. Fisherman's Island is in my jurisdiction. Suppose I issue an injunction forbidding the marriage between Mollie and the sailor, and take you up to the island in the morning to see it served. I have a steam yacht, and I think I shall take along two court officers or policemen, who will terrify your dreadful Captain Mike. At any rate, I'll see justice done his afflicted daughter, if I have to take the law in my own hands.”

Madge clapped her hands joyously. Tears stood in Phil's dark eyes.

”Oh, how splendid!” she breathed.

At this juncture Mrs. Hilliard entered the library, and after a little further talk the two girls announced themselves as being quite ready to retire.

”Be ready at seven o'clock,” Judge Hilliard reminded them, as he bade his guests good night. ”We shall reach Captain Mike's shanty boat before he has time to proceed with the marriage. They won't expect you at your houseboat until after breakfast, and I hope to have three girls to deliver aboard, instead of two.”

Phyllis and Madge dropped asleep that night the instant their heads touched their pillows. They had asked to share the same room, and as they had sleepily undressed, they congratulated each other on the fact that Mike Muldoon's cowardly act had resulted in nothing but good to them. It looked as though it might even prove a boomerang to him.

By seven o'clock the next morning the girls had breakfasted and said good-bye to Mrs. Hilliard, after promising to visit her at some future time.

”Judge Hilliard,” announced Madge, as the yacht ”Greyhound” steamed out from the pier, ”we forgot to tell you last night that we think Mollie is old enough to come away from her father if she wishes. She doesn't know how old she is. That is one of the queer things about Mollie.

She seems quite sensible until you ask her to recall something, and then she becomes confused. Still, I am sure she is several years older than either Phil or I.”