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Page 30
One would hardly have known Miss Jenny Ann Jones--a week in the fresh
air had done her so much good. Then, too, Phil and Lillian had
persuaded her to cease to wear her heavy, light hair in an English bun
at the back of her neck. Lillian had plaited it in two great braids
and had coiled it around her head like a dull golden coronet. She had
a faint color in her cheeks, and, instead of looking cross and tired,
she was as merry and almost as light-hearted as the girls. The lines
of her head were really beautiful, and her sallow skin was fast
becoming clear and healthy. For once in her life Miss Jones looked no
older than her twenty-six years. Eleanor watched her as she started
off on her walk dressed in white, carrying a red parasol, and decided
that Miss Jones was really pretty. Since her advent among the girls
she had begun to look at life from a different standpoint. She had
almost ceased worrying and she meant to grow well and strong if she
could. Since her mysterious visitor the first night she spent aboard
the boat nothing had happened to disturb her. She walked slowly on, so
occupied with her own thoughts she did not notice that she was in a
lane between two fields enclosed by fences. Some one called to her.
She could not distinguish the voice. It called and called again. She
thought it must be one of the girls who had come out in the field to
meet her. As there was no one looking, Miss Jones managed to climb
over the rail fence, and now she walked in the direction from which the
sound of the voice came. After a time the voice ceased. It was a
shorter stroll to the boat across this field, so the teacher went
leisurely on. In a far corner of the meadow she saw an odd object
unlike anything she had ever seen. It consisted of two sticks that
looked like the legs of a scarecrow which had a square board fastened
in front of them. From between the sticks were two other brown
objects, long and thin, and behind it sat a young man busily engaged in
transferring the peaceful scene to canvas. Miss Jones was gazing
curiously at this object, with her red parasol hung over her shoulder,
so that it was impossible for her to see anything behind her. But she
did hear an unusual noise--a snort, then a bellow--the sound was
unmistakable. With a sense of sickening terror she gave one horrified
glance behind her. She had been mysteriously lured into a field where
a bull was loose. It never occurred to Miss Jones to throw away her
red parasol. She ran on, waving it wildly over her shoulders,
maddening the enraged animal behind her. Miss Jones did not believe
she could run fast. Usually her breath was short, and even a rapid
walk fatigued her. Now she ran on and on. Once again she half heard a
mocking voice cry after her, but she paid no attention to it. In her
fright she was also oblivious to the fact that the strange object in
the corner of the field fell to the ground with a bang, while a man
sitting on a stool behind it rose to right his overturned canvas.
"Drop it, drop it!" he shouted, running after Miss Jones and repeatedly
urging her to throw away her bright red parasol.
Madge, Phil and Lillian had come back to the boat. After dancing in a
circle around Eleanor to express the rapture they felt in the
transformation she had wrought in their beloved houseboat, they stood
together on the deck, looking for the return of their chaperon along
the shore.
Miss Jones thought there was a gate at the end of the field in which
she was running. She made for this gate, as she knew she would not
have time to get over the fence before the animal would be upon her.
In her terror she had but one idea, one hope, that was to reach the
safety of the gang-plank and to climb aboard the houseboat.
While Miss Jones was running for her life the four chums were lingering
about the deck of the "Merry Maid" watching for her return. They
decided to take a short walk with the idea of meeting her and, leaving
their boat to take care of itself, strolled through the lane that led
to the very field Miss Jones had entered. All at once Lillian called
out in terror:
"O girls! look! It's Miss Jones, and a bull is chasing her!"
The four chums stood rooted to the spot. What could they do? They
felt powerless to help, yet not one of the girls believed Miss Jones
could save herself.
Madge was the first to act. In her hand was a large white and green
striped umbrella. The girls had lately bought two of them to use out
on deck as a protection from the sun, and Madge had caught up one of
them as they started out. In the next instant she had climbed the
fence that separated her from the field in which the teacher was
running and was making for the frightened woman at the top of her speed.
But by this time Miss Jones was completely exhausted. Summoning all
her will power, she staggered a few steps, then dropped to the ground,
with the bull not more than four yards behind her.
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