CHAPTER III

A NOBLE DEED UNDONE


"Now Grace! If you attempt to go near that dreadful man I shall
scream and wake him up," threatened Madaline, in real alarm.

"No, you won't either. You would be afraid to. Hush, keep still. I
want to see if I can lasso his old bag. Wouldn't it be fine if I
could rescue Mrs. Johnston's washing? You know it was stolen off
her line two nights ago." With this the daring girl stole up more
closely to the sleeping figure.

The quiet lull of the flowing river, as it fell over a little
cascade, was acting as a potential lullaby to the wayfarer at the
foot of the tree. His figure was grotesque, but at the distance
the girls were viewing him from it was not possible to discern
more than a figure--it might be that of almost any sort of a man,
for all they could tell.

Grace untied her nice clean coil of rope, while Madaline besought
her in every kind of cabalistic sign she could summon to her aid,
to desist in her reckless intention of tieing the man to the tree.
But the temptation was evidently too much for the frolicsome
Grace, for as Madaline cast a wild eye over her shoulder in her
flight from the spot, she could just see Grace, tip-toeing up to
that figure.