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Page 28
Phil found herself a comfortable, flat rock, and sat looking idly out
over the bay. Gradually she fell into a little reverie.
A sudden cry of pain roused Phil from her daydream. Springing to her
feet, she rushed down the beach, seeing nothing, but following the
direction of the cry. Rounding a curve of the beach she came upon a
dirty, half-tumbled down tent. In front of it stood a burly man with
both hands on the shoulders of a young girl, whom he was shaking
violently. So intent was he upon what he was doing, he did not notice
Phil approaching. She saw him shove the girl inside the tent and close
the outside flap. "Now, stay in there till you git tired of it," he
growled as he turned and walked away.
A sound of low sobbing greeted Phil's ears as she came up in front of
the tent and stood waiting, hardly knowing what to do. The sobs
continued, with a note of pain in them that went straight to Phil's
tender heart. The sight or sound of physical suffering made a special
appeal to her. It was Phyllis's secret ambition some day to study
medicine, an ambition which she had confided to no one save Madge.
Although the figure she had seen was almost that of a woman, the
sobbing sounded like that of a child. There was no other noise in the
tent, so Phil knew the girl was alone.
"Won't you please come out?" she called softly, not knowing what else
to do or say. "Tell me what is grieving you so. I am only a girl like
yourself, and I would like to help you."
"I dare not come out," the other girl answered. "My father said I must
stay in here."
Phil opened the flap of the old tent and walked inside. "What is the
matter?" she inquired gently, bending over the figure lying on the
ground and trying to lift her.
The girl sat up and pushed back her unkempt hair. She had a deep,
glowing scar just over her temple. But her hair was a wonderful color,
and only once before Phil remembered having seen eyes so deeply blue.
"Why," Phil exclaimed with a start of surprise, "I have seen you
somewhere before. Don't you remember me?"
The girl shook her head. "I do not remember anything," she answered
quietly.
"But I saw you on the canal boat. Your father was the man who helped
us secure our houseboat. What are you doing here?"
"We have come here for many years, I think," the girl answered
confusedly. "In the early spring my father catches shad along the bay.
Then all summer he takes people out sailing from the big place over
there." She pointed across the water in the direction of the hotel.
"Our boat is on the other side of the island." The girl clasped her
head in her long, sun-burned hands. "It is there that it hurts," she
declared, touching the ugly, jagged scar.
Phil gave a little, sympathetic cry and put her hand on the girl's
shoulder.
"When I work a long time in the sun my head hurts," the girl went on
listlessly. "I have been washing all day on the beach. I came up here
to hide, and my father found me. He was angry because I had stopped
work."
"Did he strike you?" Phil cried in horror, gazing at the slender,
delicate creature and thinking of the rough, coarse man.
"Not this time," the girl replied. "Sometimes they strike me and then
I am afraid. Only there is one thing I shall never, never do, no
matter how much they beat me. I can not remember everything, but I
know that I will not do this one thing."
"What is it?" asked Phil. "Whom do you mean by 'they,' and what do
'they' wish you to do?"
The girl shook her head. "I can not tell you." She shuddered, and
Phil felt she had no right to insist on knowing.
"I like to hide in this tent," the girl went on sorrowfully. "I come
here whenever I can get away from the others. I would like to stay
here always. But, now he has found me, there is no place where I can
rest."
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