CHAPTER XXI
ON THE SCHOONER
Betty Nelson was an unusually muscular girl. She and her outdoor chumshad not lived so much in the open air for nothing, and taken long trampsand regular physical exercise. They had played basketball, tennis andgolf, and though their arms looked pretty in evening dresses, there weremuscles beneath those same beautifully tanned skins.
For a moment Betty was so surprised at the suddenness of the attack thatshe could do nothing. She had had but a momentary glimpse of the face ofthe old crone, and only for that she might have thought it was the boys,who had stolen up behind her and Amy, and had put their hands over theireyes to make them guess who had thus blinded them.
But in an instant Betty knew this was no friendly game. And so, as soonas she realized that, she began to struggle, and to some good purpose.
She managed to pull from her mouth the horrible, fishy-smelling hand ofthe old woman, and then Betty screamed as she endeavored to loosen thegrip the old crone had on her arms.
"Help! Help!" screamed Betty. "Let me go! How dare you! What does thismean? Amy, where are you?" for Betty could not, for the moment, see herchum.
But poor Amy was not as muscular as Betty, nor did she have theadvantage of battling against a woman, for a man had caught her, andheld 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 havesome one buzzing down on us if you don't! Clap a stopper on her, orI'll----"
"You must be quiet, my dear!" hissed the old crone, struggling to infusesome 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 onein sight and the thunder of the surf would not permit her cries tocarry far. She tried to get a sight of Amy, but could not.
"Let me--let me----" panted Betty, and then, though she struggled withall her might, making the old woman pant and hiss to overcome her, Bettyfound herself being gradually exhausted. Again that horrid hand stoleover her mouth, making her feel ill, and effectually shutting off hercries.
"Quick!" panted the old woman. "I can't hold her much longer. You'llhave to tie her--or--something."
"I'll do _something_, all right!" said the man, significantly. He washaving little trouble with poor Amy, who had yielded like some brokenflower. "I'll just tie this one up, and then take care of her," thefellow went on.
Betty had a glimpse of his dark and brutal face and she shuddered. Itwas bad enough to have him touch Amy, and bad enough for the oldfishwife to clasp Betty in her horrid arms, but Betty thought she surelywould die if that man approached her.
She tried to speak--to say that she would not scream again if they wouldonly tell what they wanted--take her purse and its contents--but onlylet her alone. But she could only mutter a meaningless jumble of soundswith that fishy hand over her mouth, pressing cruelly on her lips.
"Can you carry her, and keep her from screaming?" asked the man, who hadpulled some cords from his pocket and was quickly tying Amy's hands.Then he fastened a rag over her mouth, and poor Amy, who came out of ahalf-faint, was too late to add her voice to Betty's.
"Carry her--no, she'll struggle like a cat!" muttered the old woman."You'll have to help."
"Help! Haven't I got my hands full?" he demanded. "Where are some of theothers? They ought to be back now. They knew this chance might come anytime."
"They have been lying in wait for us," thought Betty. It was one of themany ideas that raced through her brain at express-train speed. "That iswhy this old woman wanted us to come to her hut."
"There's some one now!" exclaimed the man, leaning up from having put acord around Amy's ankles as she lay on a sand hill.
"If it isn't some one she's brought by her yells," snarled the fishwife.
"No, it's Jake, thank goodness!" muttered the man, as a rough-lookingspecimen, the counterpart of himself, peered around a dune. "Get busyhere, Jake, and truss up that other--cat!" the first man ordered.
"All right, Pete," was the answer. "Got any rope?"
"Here's some," and the one addressed as Pete kicked over some net-cordtoward the newcomer.
Meanwhile Betty had desisted from her struggle to get loose. She wasstrong and wiry, but the old crone was more than a match for the LittleCaptain. The fisherman's wife seemed to know how to handle strugglingpersons, for she held Betty in a peculiar grip that was most effective.Bend and strain as Betty might, she could not break away, and that handwas still held over her mouth, preventing any further outcry.
"Just a minute now, Mag, and I'll have her safe," went on Jake, as, withpracticed hands he whipped several coils of cord around Betty's wristsand ankles.
"Stop! Stop!" she implored as the woman's hand was taken from her mouthfor a second. It was poor Betty's last chance to appeal, for, an instantlater, a fold of ill-smelling cloth was put over her lips, and she waseffectually gagged. Tears of shame, rage and fear came into her eyes.
"Now you can carry her, without any trouble," announced Jake, rising.
"Take 'em up to the shack," ordered Pete. "Then tell the others to getthe boat ready."
Betty wondered what that meant. Were they to be kidnapped? She tried tolook at Amy, but could not see her just then.
A moment later she felt herself being lifted up between the two men. Itwas useless to struggle.
Amy was much lighter than Betty, and was hoisted up to the shoulder ofthe old crone, who seemed wonderfully strong.
"Take a look out, Mag, and see if any one's in sight before we make adash for the shack," directed Pete. "Her screams may have been heard.She yelled like a banshee!"
The fishwife, carrying the limp figure of Amy, peered beyond the line ofsand dunes.
"No one in sight," she muttered, beckoning the others to advance.
"But what gets me is where the other two are," growled Pete who, withJake, was carrying Betty. "There's four of 'em, and they've always beentogether ever since they come down here. Where are the other two? That'swhat I'd like to know."
Betty shuddered as she thought of Mollie and Grace sleeping in thelittle clump of trees. Suppose these horrid men should go back there andfind them. It was horrible to contemplate.
"Well, you've got half of 'em. That ought to be enough for what youwant," said Jake, hoarsely chuckling.
Betty was puzzling her brains, trying to think why she and Amy had beenthus captured. What object had the old fisherman and, too, why had theold crone been so eager to get them to her hut? Betty could only guess.Her head ached. She felt really ill, and could not doubt but that poorAmy was in like condition.
A few seconds later they were both carried into the hut, and set inrickety chairs. Their bonds were not removed, and the door was closedand locked. Amy looked over at Betty, and the latter could see that herchum's eyes were filled with tears.
Then, suddenly, Amy seemed to collapse. She slipped from the chair tothe floor.
"Now what's up?" roughly demanded Pete. "I wish I'd never gone into thisgirl business, anyhow--it's so uncertain. What's happened?" and helooked at the limp form of Amy on the floor.
Betty tried to rise, but sank back dizzily. The room seemed to becomesuddenly dark. She feared she would topple over as Amy had done.
"It's only a faint, the poor dear," chuckled the old woman. "I'll attendto her. You go out and get the boat ready," she told the two men.
Betty's brain became clearer. There was no longer blackness before hereyes.
"Here, drink this," said the woman, raising Amy by her shoulders, andholding a glass of water to her lips. The gag had been removed. Amydrank and a little color came into her face.
"Where--where am I? What happened?" she faltered.
"Nothing, dearie," said t
he hoarse voice of the crone. "You'll be allright soon. You're just going to stay with me a little while--you andyour friend. You won't suffer a bit of harm, if you tell us what we wantto know. You'll be well taken care of."
Betty began to see a light now. She wished the gag might be taken fromher lips, and water given her, but the old woman was busy with Amy. Thegirl closed her eyes again, and seemed too weak to cry out, even thoughthe rag was not again bound across her lips.
There sounded voices outside the cabin, and a knock on the door.
"Drat 'em," muttered the old woman. "A body would need four hands toattend to all that's to be done."
She laid Amy back on the floor, and hobbled across the room to unbar thedoor. Betty was frantically struggling to loosen the bonds that heldher hands behind her back.
"The boat's ready," gruffly said Jake, as he and Pete were admitted tothe shack.
"That's good," muttered the old crone. "We can take care of 'em easierwhen we get 'em out of here. We don't care if they do yell then. Waituntil I tie up this one's mouth. She may rouse up enough to make aracket."
Poor, half-senseless Amy was again gagged. Betty had given up trying toloosen her bonds. Those men knew how to tie knots.
And then, as before, Betty was carried down to the shore and placed in aboat. Amy was brought down on the shoulders of the old woman, who alsogot in the boat with the captured girls.
"Now row out," she ordered the man. They were on the bay side, wherethere was no surf, so the boat was easily pushed out. The men leaped inand began pulling on the long oars. Betty could see them heading for themysterious schooner, and, a little later she and Amy were lifted onboard that vessel.
"Up anchor!" came the command from some one, and, an instant later, thevessel was in motion.
Poor Betty wished she could do as Amy had done, and faint.