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Page 62
Still on his hands and knees, the man tilted the can until the oil ran
in a little stream down the deck and soaked well into the wood. He
then put his hand in his pocket to look for something.
Mollie did not hear him. At least, her ears were not conscious that
they caught a distinct sound. Finally she became conscious of the
presence of some one near her. She got quickly up out of her chair and
leaned over the railing of the top deck.
At this moment the man, with his back toward her, struck a match.
Mollie beheld the crouching figure. She could not tell who the man
was. Was it Bill or her father come to steal her away? The old,
dreadful fear swept over her, with enough of memory to make her realize
what her capture would mean. The girl's first instinct was to hide.
She did not realize how poor a refuge the houseboat offered her. It
seemed to her that, if she could only get into one of the cabin
bedrooms and conceal herself in her berth, she might escape. Poor
Mollie had no better idea to aid her. She came running down the
outside steps and ran toward the cabin door.
The man rose quickly. He did not move toward Mollie. Outside the
cabin kitchen was a big box filled with chips and bits of kindling,
used to light the kitchen stove. The man gathered up a handful of
these pieces of wood and ran back to his old position. He glanced at
Mollie. But it was easy to see that she was trying to get away, not to
hinder him in what he was doing. He picked up the oil can again. This
time he poured the few remaining drops on a little pile of chips and
lit another match. The tinder blazed up. The man fanned the tiny
flames with the brim of a torn hat. The flare of light grew brighter;
a great flame leapt up and then a snake-like curve of fire followed the
oil-soaked wood.
When the man did not move toward Mollie she stopped in the cabin door.
She was afraid of him. She was not like other girls. Ever since she
had been able to know anything she had felt a curious, confused feeling
in her head. She did not know who the man was on the deck of the boat.
But she did know that he was trying to set their houseboat afire.
Mollie paid no further attention to the man. She did not scream at
him, nor try to stop what he was doing. She rushed forward and began
stamping on the pile of blazing sticks.
The man did not attempt to prevent her. He was watching the increasing
length of flame spread over the deck. A second later he sprang up, ran
across the deck, slipped over the side of "The Merry Maid," dropped
into his rowboat, and rowed swiftly out of sight.
Mollie flew for the big bucket of water, which they always kept in a
certain spot. She flung the water on the flames, but water will not
quench the flames made from oil. The rail began to crackle, the sparks
to fly. The "Merry Maid" was afire, with only one, feeble girl to save
it!
Mollie knew that there were steamer blankets in the bedrooms of the
cabin. She often had one to cover her when she took her afternoon
rest. Remember, Mollie had had little education, but she had been
brought up to work and to do practical tasks. It was but the work of a
moment to drag out two blankets and spread them over the flames. The
fire died down for a moment; then it crept through the fringe of the
rugs, and a choking smell of burning wool showed that the blankets also
were beginning to burn. But the brave girl had no intention of giving
up the fight.
There were two other blankets left. Mollie started back to the cabin
for these, when to her terror she discovered that the skirt of her
cotton dress was in names. She tried to beat it out with her hands,
but it crept steadily up toward her head. She cried aloud, but she
could see no one coming to save her. The pain was more intense every
moment. She could not keep still. She ran toward the edge of the
deck. Before her the placid water lay cool and sweet. With a cry of
pain, Mollie threw herself over the side of the houseboat. She did not
realize how shallow the water was. She flung herself with all her
force. Her head struck against the bottom with a heavy thud. At least
the water was cool; the fire no longer burned her.
Miss Jones and Mr. Brown, who had joined Miss Jenny Ann on her way back
from the farmhouse, heard Mollie's first cry of alarm. The artist had
been coming down to the houseboat to make an evening call. Two
strangers, a man and his wife, were strolling along the top of the
small embankment. They also heard the call. The four of them started
down the hill almost at the same time. Before they reached the
houseboat, the odor of burning wood was borne to their nostrils. Miss
Jenny Ann cried out for Mollie, but Mollie did not answer. Mr. Brown
and the two strangers began beating out the fire on the boat. It had
not spread far; the blankets had covered the flames and kept them from
increasing. The overturned oil can gave the clue to the mystery. Mr.
Brown dashed into the kitchen for a bag of salt, because salt more
quickly puts out the flames from burning oil.
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