Phil saw him from the open cabin door. She did not think--she acted.
She saw, as she supposed, the farmer lad, intent on robbing them. Phil
brought her broom down on the boy's head with a resounding whack.

The tramp started forward with a growl. For the moment he was nearly
blinded from the pain of the blow.

Phil recognized that discretion was now the better part of valor. She
dashed out of one door, then into another, the youth stumbling after
her, raging with anger. She knew every turn and twist of the tiny
cabin. Instead of running around the deck, where she would surely have
been captured, she darted in and out of the cabin doors, those on the
inside, swinging backward and forward, sometimes closing a door in the
face of her pursuer.

She was almost overcome with horror when she saw Lillian and Eleanor in
the sitting-room. Lillian could not speak, but her eyes pleaded with
Phil. Phyllis had no reason not to cry out. As she ran she screamed
with all her might:

"Help, help, help!" Some one would soon be passing along the shore who
would come to their aid.

The thief did not like the noise Phyllis made. He also thought her
cries would be heard on the shore. He had found what he wanted. He
had no idea of being caught on the houseboat. But he had spied
Eleanor's caramel cake on the table. He would take that and be off in
a hurry.

As he grabbed Eleanor's cake, the product of her morning's work and the