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Page 24
Her tired, eager eyes strained through the thick foliage of the woods
they had traversed so happily only the afternoon before.
Yes, there was a man's figure! He was coming nearer. A young man in a
hunting jacket, with a gun swung over his shoulder, was tramping along,
with his eyes on the ground.
A pleading voice apparently came from the sky: "Please unbar the door
of this old cabin. We are locked inside."
The young man stopped short. He took off his cap and ran his hand
through his thick, light hair. He was too old to believe in fairies or
elves. But he heard the voice again even more distinctly. "Oh, don't
go away! Do open the log cabin door."
The young man looked up. There was a little, white face as wan and
pale as the early daylight, with an aureole of dark red curls around
it, staring at him through the broken window frame of the old log cabin
that he had seen deserted a dozen times in his hunting trips through
these woods.
"If there is some one really calling to me, please wave your hand three
times from that window, so I will know you are not a spook," called the
young man, "otherwise I may be afraid to open the door."
"I can't wave. I shall fall if I let go the window sill," answered
Madge, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "Please don't wait any
longer. We have been locked in all night."
The stranger drew back the heavy wooden bolt. He started when he saw
three white-faced girls staring at him. But the face he had seen at
the window was not among them. Clinging to the old window frame, her
slender feet stuck in the cracks between the logs, was the witch who
had summoned him to their rescue.
"Won't you please come help me down, Phil?" asked a plaintive voice.
"Just let go the window frame and drop," ordered the stranger quietly.
"Don't be afraid. It is the only possible way."
Without hesitating Madge did as directed. "Thank you," she said
coolly, when she got her breath. Then she staggered a little, and
Phyllis and the young man who had come to their rescue caught her.
"We have been locked in so long," explained Phil. "No, we have not the
least idea who could have played such a trick on us. We arrived in
this neighborhood only yesterday afternoon."
Phil gave a short history of the houseboat, introducing her three
friends and herself to him. "We must return to our chaperon at once,"
she added. "The poor woman will be dreadfully worried. Do you girls
feel strong enough to walk? You see"--this time Phil turned to their
rescuer--"it is not only that we have been shut up here for nearly
fourteen hours, we are so hungry! We have had nothing to eat since
yesterday at luncheon."
"Your poor, starving girls!" exclaimed their liberator, reproachfully.
"At last I am convinced you are not fairies. And for once I am glad
that my mother is always certain that I am on the point of starving."
He reached back into his pocket and brought out a package and a flask.
"Here is some good, strong coffee. I am sorry it is cold, but it is
better than nothing." He turned to Madge, who looked exhausted.
She shook her head, though she gazed at the flask wistfully. "I won't
drink first. I don't need it as much as the other girls."
Eleanor took the bottle from his hands and held it to Madge's lips.
The exhausted girl took a long drink. Then the others followed suit,
while the young man watched them, smiling with satisfaction. He was
tall and strong, and not particularly handsome, but he had fine brown
eyes, a firm chin and thick, curly, light hair. After the girls had
finished the coffee he broke open his package of sandwiches and found
exactly four inside.
"Please take them," he urged, handing the open package to Lillian.
"We mustn't take them from you," protested Lillian. "We thank you for
the coffee. That will do nicely until we get back to our boat."
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