ealized that, she began to struggle, and to some good purpose.

She managed to pull from her mouth the horrible, fishy-smelling hand of
the old woman, and then Betty screamed as she endeavored to loosen the
grip the old crone had on her arms.

"Help! Help!" screamed Betty. "Let me go! How dare you! What does this
mean? Amy, where are you?" for Betty could not, for the moment, see her
chum.

But poor Amy was not as muscular as Betty, nor did she have the
advantage of battling against a woman, for a man had caught her, and
held her in a cruel grip.

"Help! Help!" Betty cried again, struggling desperately.

"Be quiet! Be quiet, my little dear--little imp!" hissed the old woman,
for Betty had struck her in the face. "Be quiet or I'll----"

"Can't you stop her screams?" roughly demanded the man. "She'll have
some one buzzing down on us if you don't! Clap a stopper on her, or
I'll----"

"You must be quiet, my dear!" hissed the old crone, struggling to infuse
some measure of conciliation in her cracked voice. "Be quiet or----"

"I'll not! Let me go! How dare you! Help! Help!" screamed Betty, but,
even as she called, she realized how hopeless it was, for she saw no one
in sight and the thunder of the surf would not permit her cries to
carry far. She tried to get a sight of Amy, but could not.

"Let me--let me----" panted Betty, and then, though she struggled with
all her might, making the old woman pant and hiss to overcome her, Betty
found herself being gradually exhausted. Again that horrid hand stole
over her mouth, making her feel ill, and effectually shutting off her
cries.

"Quick!" panted the old woman. "I can't hold her much longer. You'll
have to tie her--or--something."

"I'll do _something_, all right!" said the man, significantly. He was
having little trouble with poor Amy, who had yielded like some broken
flower. "I'll just tie this one up, and then take care of her," the
fellow went on.

Betty had a glimpse of his dark and brutal face and she shuddered. It
was bad enough to have him touch Amy, and bad enough for the old
fishwife to clasp Betty in her horrid arms, but Betty thought she surely
would die if that man approached her.

She tried to speak--to say that she would not scream again if they would
only tell what they wanted--take her purse and its contents--but only
let her alone. But she could only mutter a meaningless jumble of sounds
with that fishy hand over her mouth, pressing cruelly on h