Chapter 10 AN EXCITING RACE

Eleanor and Miss "Jenny Ann," as the girls seemed inclined to call their chaperon, had not remained on the houseboat merely to polish the pots and pans. They had a special surprise and plan of their own on hand.

It was all very well for Phyllis to dream of a houseboat, with its decks lined with flowers, and for Madge to draw a beautiful plan of it on paper. Flowers do not grow except where they are planted.

So it was in order to turn gardeners that Eleanor and Miss Jones stayed at home. Flowers enough to encircle the deck of a houseboat would cost almost as much money as the four girls had in their treasury to keep them supplied with food and coal. But the gently sloping Maryland fields were abloom with daisies. A farmer's lad could be hired for a dollar to dig up the daisies and to bring a wagon load of dirt to the boat. The day before Eleanor had engaged the services of a carpenter to make four boxes, which exactly fitted the sides of the little upper deck of the houseboat above the cabin. An hour or so after the girls departed on their rowing excursion the daisies were brought aboard, planted, and held up their heads bravely. They were such sturdy, hardy little flowers that they did not wither with homesickness at the change in their environment.

But still Eleanor was not entirely satisfied. In Phil's dream and Madge's picture of the boat vines had drooped gracefully over the sides of the deck, and Eleanor had no vines to plant. Eleanor had a natural gift for making things about her lovely and homelike. So she thought and thought. Wild honeysuckle vines were growing in the fields with the daisies. They were just the things to clamber over the white railing of the deck and to hang gracefully over the sides. Their perfume would fill the little floating dwelling with their fragrance.

By noon the transformation was complete. Eleanor persuaded Miss Jones to go for a walk while she got the luncheon. Madge, Phil and Lillian had solemnly promised to be at home by one o'clock. Another surprise was in store for them. In the bow of their boat Eleanor had hung up a flag. On a background of white broadcloth, stitched in bands of blue, was the legend "Merry Maid." This was Eleanor Butler's chosen name for the houseboat, and had been voted the best possible selection, while Madge had been unanimously voted captain of their little ship. Eleanor had sent to the town for the flag, and even their chaperon was not to know of its arrival.

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.

On it came, its head lowered almost to the ground. Then a huge green and white monster loomed up before the animal, and with a snort of mingled rage and horror the bull stopped short in its tracks. The strange green and white object now lunging at full tilt was far more terrible than the small, red, flame-like object that fled its approach. Rage conquering fear, the bull gave a dreadful roar and made a quick lunge at Madge. She sprang to one side but managed to thrust her umbrella full in the animal's face. With a rumble of defiance the bull dodged the umbrella and made another lunge at Madge. Its lowered horns never reached her. A rope swung skilfully forward caught the animal by the leg just in time. One swift pull and the bull went down. The owner of the animal had witnessed its charge upon Miss Jones and, rushing across the field, had roped it. The artist who had attracted Miss Jenny Ann's attention had also come to the rescue, but it was really Madge with her green and white umbrella who had saved their chaperon from the bull's horns.

Miss Jones, who had raised herself to a sitting position, stared wildly about her, still firmly clutching the red parasol.

The artist sprang to her side and raised her to her feet. "It was this that made the mischief," he said, touching her parasol. "I shouted to you to drop it."

"But I didn't hear you," defended the teacher faintly. Her two long braids of fair hair had become unfastened and were now hanging down her back, giving her the appearance of a girl. "I heard some one calling to me, or I would never have entered that dreadful field." Miss Jones eyed the artist reproachfully. "Was it you who shouted my name?"

"Was it I?" repeated the young man in astonishment. "Certainly not. I do not know your name."

"My name is 'Jones,'" Miss Jenny Ann faltered weakly. She was still feeling dazed and weak.

"And my name is 'Brown,'" the artist answered, with an expression of solemn gravity. But the corners of his lips twitched in amusement.

There was a faint chuckle from Madge that went the round of the group and, despite the fact that the chaperon's narrow escape had been far from ludicrous, the whole party burst into laughter.

"I am sorry," apologized the artist. "Please forgive me for laughing."

The farmer had in the meantime led the bull away, and now Eleanor and Lillian came running toward the group to see if Miss Jenny Ann were truly hurt. When they saw the whole party shaking with laughter, the two girls exchanged curious glances. "Luncheon has been waiting half an hour," Eleanor declared rather crossly. "Do come and eat it. We would not have come after you if we had known that you were having such a good time."

Madge glanced at their chaperon, then at the artist. He was evidently a gentleman, and she recognized that he was possessed of a keen sense of humor. It would seem rude and ungrateful to run away and leave him just as their luncheon was announced, when he had raced all the way across the meadow to assist in the rescue of their Miss Jenny Ann.

"Won't you come and eat luncheon with us?" asked Madge boldly, fearing their chaperon would be dreadfully shocked.

The artist shook his head. "I'd like to accept your invitation if Miss Jones will second it," he replied, looking at Miss Jenny Ann.

"You would he delighted to have Mr. Brown take luncheon with us, Miss Jenny Ann, wouldn't you?" Madge turned coaxing eyes upon their teacher.

"I should be very ungracious if I were not," laughed their chaperon, the color rising to her brown cheeks. "Mr. Brown will be a welcome guest."

And five minutes later Mr. Brown was triumphantly escorted aboard their beloved "Merry Maid."