holystone 'em an' slush 'em with hot tar if they
give any trouble! Come on!"

Another instant and, despite his age and the crippling effects of
rheumatism caused by exposure in all sorts of weather, Tin-Back had
leaped to the schooner's deck. He was followed by Roy, Allen and a
couple of sturdy fishermen, who had been picked up on the beach.

"Now, then, what do you fellows want?" demanded Pete, who was recognized
as the fisherman of the lonely cabin.

"You know well enough what we want!" answered Allen resolutely. "The two
young ladies you have on board here."

"There's nobody here," was the surly denial.

"I tell you there are!"

"You----"

There came a shrill scream from somewhere below decks, followed by an
exclamation in a woman's voice.

"They're loose! They're loose. Pete--Jake--I--I----"

The men of the schooner uttered surprised exclamations.

"Come on!" cried Pete, leaping up.

"Not so fast," interposed Tin-Back, stepping in front of the man who had
made a dash toward the cabin. "Wait a minute," and an extended foot
tripped Pete, who fell heavily to the deck.

"We're coming!" shouted Allen, and, followed by Roy and Mollie, who by
this time had made her way to the deck of the schooner, they hurried
below. From behind a closed door came the sound of a struggle.

"In here!" cried Allen, and he threw himself against the panels as
though he were stopping a rush on the football field. There was a
cracking of wood and a snapping of metal. The door burst open.

In the cabin, struggling against the old crone, were Betty and Amy,
disheveled and almost hysterical, but otherwise safe and sound.

"Allen!" gasped Betty, holding out her hands to him. He clasped them
warmly, and the old crone, seeing that the whole affair was over, slunk
off, whining something about meaning no harm to the "dearies"!

"Just watch those fellows that they don't do any mischief," said Henry
to Tin-Back, when he had comforted his sister.

"Oh, they won't do any harm. They know it's all up. Besides, I brought
this with me," and the clammer showed an ancient horse pistol, that, had
it been fired, would probably have worked more havoc to the marksman
than to the person aimed at.

There were tears, hysterical laughter, and rapid-fire explanations--all,
seemingly, at once.

"But you're safe!" cried Allen, who had both Betty's hands. Whether or
not it had been a continuous performance I cannot say. Probably it had.
Betty was a v