It was not until two days later that the fisherman, searching along the very shore from which they had started, found the sailboat resting quietly at anchor about two miles from the pier where the picnic party had landed.  The boat was uninjured, and Madge’s hat, coat and skirt lay on the deck, where she had thrown them when she dived into the bay.  But the wild lad who had caused the mischief had vanished completely.  No one near had seen or heard of him.  His identity was a mystery.  If any one of the fisher folk knew his name, or where he had gone, they did not betray that knowledge.  Mrs. Curtis wished to offer a reward for the fellow’s capture.  Tom would not consent.  He intended to find his enemy himself, and to settle his own score.  At night Tom used to lie awake for hours to plan how he would track the stranger and at last run him down.  But in the day time he was much too fully occupied with entertaining his mother’s young guest to plan revenge.

Madge had been the guest of Mrs. Curtis at the Belleview Hotel for five days.  It had taken but a day for her to recover from the effect of her narrow escape from drowning.  She possessed far too happy a disposition to dwell long on an uncomfortable memory, and her recent mishap soon became like a dream to her.  But her feeling of affection for Mrs. Curtis was not in the least like a dream, and grew stronger with every hour she spent in her new friend’s company.  It was a red letter time for Madge.

Mrs. Curtis tried in every possible way to manifest her gratitude.  Had not Madge saved her son’s life?  She felt that she could make no adequate return for the heroic service the young girl had rendered her.

She insisted that the most attractive apartment in the hotel should be Madge’s and surrounded her with all sorts of luxuries.  The young girl’s suite consisted of a cosy little sitting room and a wonderful bedroom with white, rose-bordered walls and Circassian walnut furnishings.  There was a little, white bath leading out from the bedroom and Madge reveled in her new-found treasures.

All day long her apartment was lovely with flowers.  Tom Curtis ordered a box of roses to be delivered to her each day from Baltimore.  The roses were presented to Madge every morning when the maid brought up her breakfast-tray, and for the first time in her life Miss Madge enjoyed the luxury of eating her breakfast in bed.  Boxes of candy became so ordinary that she fairly pleaded with her friends when they came to visit her to take them back to the houseboat.

“Madge will never be happy again on the ‘Merry Maid,’ will she, girls?” The four girls were rowing back to their floating home after a visit to their friend.

“Yes, she will,” returned Phil stoutly, though she felt a slight pang when she remembered how cheerfully Madge had kissed them goodbye.

“I am sure she is well enough to come home now,” burst forth Lillian, “only Mrs. Curtis and Tom won’t hear of it.  Dear me!  I suppose our little captain is happy at last.  She has always dreamed of what it would feel like to be rich and a heroine, and now she is both.  But nothing seems quite the same on the boat,” she added wistfully.  “I think we are all homesick for her.”