Madge Morton, Captain of the Merry Maid | Page 8

near the shore.
"I tell you, Madge Morton," declared Phyllis Alden firmly, "whether or
not we ever find a houseboat, there is one thing certain: I positively
must have something to eat. I am half starved. What good would
finding the boat do me if I were to die of hunger before I have even
seen it?"
"Please don't be cross, Phil," soothed Madge. "I am sure we are all as
hungry as you are. I am awfully sorry. We ought to have eaten
luncheon before we came here. There isn't a restaurant in sight."
"I am sure I saw the sign of a funny little restaurant as we came by the
corner," broke in Lillian. "It did look queer, but I suppose it would not
be any harm for us to go in there."
"We don't care if it does look queer," declared Phyllis stoutly.

Turning, the girls retraced their steps to the corner.
Outside the swinging door of the small restaurant they hesitated. "I
don't think we ought to go in there," argued Eleanor, "it is such a
dreadfully rough-looking place."
It was indeed a very common eating house, where the men who worked
on the wharves, the fishermen and sailors, were in the habit of getting
their meals. The one dirty window showed half a dozen live crabs
crawling about inside among the pieces of sea-weed. A row of old pies
formed the background.
A moment later they had marched bravely up to the door. Dainty
Eleanor shuddered as they crossed the threshold, and even Phil and
Madge hesitated as a man's coarse laugh greeted them once they were
fairly inside the restaurant room.
"Come on, children," said Madge, with a pretence of bravery she was
far from feeling. "We are going into this restaurant to get something to
eat. Don't look as if you thought you were going to be eaten. It is rather
horrid, but perhaps they will let us have some bread and milk."
The quartette seated themselves at the first table they saw vacant. Just
across from it were a number of men with rough, hard faces. They were
evidently sailors from the nearby boats. The girls kept their eyes on the
table, and Madge gave their order for tea and sandwiches in a low tone
to the German boy who came forward to wait on them.
When the boy had departed with their order a silence settled upon the
little group of girls. In each girl's mind was the thought that it had been
unwise to enter the restaurant. By this time they had come to a
realization of the fact that they were the only women in the room.
"We ought never to have come here," whispered Lillian, clutching
Madge's arm.
"Nonsense," returned Madge bravely, "we have as much right here as
any of these men."

"But I'd rather not stay," persisted Lillian.
"Didn't you say you were hungry?" asked Madge pointedly.
"Ye-es," hesitated Lillian, "but I just can't stay here."
"Nor I," chimed in Eleanor.
Madge looked appealingly at Phyllis, who shook her brown head
deprecatingly. "I don't believe we ought to stay here, Madge."
"You, too, Phil!" exclaimed Madge impatiently. "All right, Misses
'Fraid Cats,' we'll go. Here comes our luncheon, too."
The girls glanced quickly at the rosy-faced lad who came up at that
moment with their order on a tray.
"I'm so hungry," sighed Phil. "Perhaps we'd better----"
"So glad you've changed your mind," commented Madge rather
satirically. "But what about you, Lillian and Eleanor?"
"Let's stay this once, but next time we'll be more careful where we
lunch," smiled Eleanor.
"I take back all I said about 'Fraid Cats,'" laughed Madge. "We'll hurry
through our luncheon and leave here the moment we finish. After all, as
long as we are to become seasoned mariners we shall have to learn to
accustom ourselves to the vicissitudes of a sailor's life."
"But we can't be 'seasoned mariners' until we find our houseboat,"
reminded Lillian. "It doesn't look as though we'd find it to-day, either."
"We must," was Madge's emphatic response. "Here we have been
worrying like mad about this restaurant not being a proper place in
which to eat our luncheon, while the really important question of where
we are to find our boat hasn't troubled us. We must go out of here
saying, 'We shall find it, we shall find it,' and then I believe we can't
help but run across it." Madge's blue eyes were alight with purpose and

enthusiasm.
"Good for you, Madge," laughed Phil. "Come on, girls. Let us finish
our tea and renew our search."
It was half-past three in the afternoon when they left the little restaurant.
The four girls were to spend the night in Baltimore with a friend of
Miss Tolliver's, who kept