"Well he won't get her," declared Tom, boldly.

"What can we do against that man?" demanded Ruth, anxiously. "I'm afraid of him myself. Let's try to get ash.o.r.e."

"Yes, before he catches us," begged Helen. "Do, Tom!"

There was no hope of the wind helping them, and the man in the rowboat was pulling strongly for the becalmed _Jennie S._ Tom instantly dropped her sail and seized one of the oars. He could scull pretty well, and he forced the heavy boat through the quiet sea directly for the lighthouse landing.

The three girls were really much disturbed; Crab pulled his lighter boat much faster than Tom could drive the _Jennie S._ and it was a question if he would not overtake her before she reached the landing.

"He sees me," said Jane Hicks, excitedly. "He'll get hold of me if he can. And maybe he'll hurt you folks."

"He's got to catch us first," grunted Tom, straining at the oar.

"We're going to beat him, Tommy!" cried Helen, encouragingly. "Don't give up!"

Once Crab looked around and bawled some threat to them over his shoulder.

But they did not reply. His voice inspired Tom with renewed strength--or seemed to. The boy strained at his single oar, and the _Jennie S._ moved landward at a good, stiff pace.

"Stand ready with the painter, Ruth!" called Tom, at last. "We must fasten the boat before we run."

"And where will we run to?" demanded Helen.

"To the light, of course," returned her chum.

"Give _me_ the hitch-rein!" cried Jane Ann Hicks, s.n.a.t.c.hing the coil of line from Ruth's hand, and the next moment she leaped from the deck of the catboat to the wharf.

The distance was seven or eight feet, but she cleared it and landed on the stringpiece. She threw the line around one of the piles and made a knot with a dexterity that would have surprised her companions at another time.

But there was no opportunity then for Tom, Helen and Ruth to stop to notice it. All three got ash.o.r.e the moment the catboat b.u.mped, and they left her where she was and followed the flying Western girl up the wharf and over the stretches of sand towards the lightkeeper's cottage.

Before their feet were off the planks of the wharf Jack Crab's boat collided with the _Jennie S._ and the man scrambled upon her deck, and across it to the wharf. He left his own dory to go ash.o.r.e if it would, and set out to catch the girl who--he considered--was worth five hundred dollars to him.

But Jane Ann and her friends whisked into the little white house at the foot of the light shaft, and slammed the door before Crab reached it.

"For the Land of Goshen!" cried the old lady, who was sitting knitting in her tiny sitting-room. "What's the meaning of this?"

"It's Crab! It's Jack Crab!" cried Helen, almost in hysterics.

"He's after us!"

Tom had bolted the door. Now Crab thundered upon it, with both feet and fists.

"Let me in!" he roared from outside. "Mother Purling! you let me git that gal!"

"What does this mean?" repeated the lighthouse keeper, sternly.

"Ain't this the gal that big man was after this morning?" she demanded, pointing at Jane Ann.

"Yes, Mrs. Purling--it is Jane Hicks. And this dreadful Crab man has kept her out on the Thimble all this time--alone!" cried Ruth. "Think of it! Now he has chased us in here----"

"I'll fix that Jack Crab," declared the plucky old woman, advancing toward the door. "Hi, you, Jack! go away from there."

"You open this door, Mother Purling, if you knows what's best for you," commanded the sailor.

"You better git away from that door, if you knows what's best for _you_, Jack Crab!" retorted the old woman. "I don't fear ye."

"I see that man here this morning. Did he leave aught for me?" cried Crab, after a moment. "If he left the five hundred dollars he promised to give for the gal, he can have her. Give me the money, and I'll go my ways."

"I ain't no go-between for a scoundrel such as you, Jack Crab,"

declared the lighthouse keeper. "There's no money here for ye."

"Then I'll have the gal if I tear the lighthouse down for it--stone by stone!" roared the fellow.

"And it's your kind that always blows before they breeches," declared Mother Purling, referring to the habit of the whale, which spouts before it upends and dives out of sight. "Go away!"

"I won't go away!"

"Yes, ye will, an' quick, too!"

"Old woman, ye don't know me!" stormed the unreasonable man. "I want that money, an' I'm bound to have it--one way or th' other!"

"You'll get nuthin', Jack Crab, but a broken head if ye keep on in this fashion," returned the woman of the lighthouse, her honest wrath growing greater every moment.

"We'll see about that!" howled the man. "Are ye goin' to let me in or not?"

"No, I tell ye! Go away!"

"Then I'll bust my way in, see ef I don't!"

At that the fellow threw himself against the door, and the screws of one hinge began to tear out of the woodwork. Mother Purling saw it, and motioned the frightened girls and Tom toward the stairway which led to the gallery around the lantern.

"Go up yon!" she commanded. "Shut and lock that door on ye. He'll not durst set foot on government property, and that's what the light is. Go up."

She shooed them all into the stairway and slammed the door. There she stood with her back against it, while, at the next blow, Jack Crab forced the outer door of her cottage inward and fell sprawling across its wreck into the room.

CHAPTER XXV

WHAT JANE ANN WANTED

Ruth and her companions could not see what went on in the cottage; but they did not mount the stairs. They could not leave the old woman--plucky as she was--to fight Jack Crab alone.

But they need not have been so fearful for Mother Purling's safety. The instant the man fell into the main room of the cottage, Mother Purling darted to the stove, seized the heavy poker which lay upon the hearth, and sprang for the rascal.

Jack Crab had got upon his knees, threatening her with dire vengeance.

The old lighthouse keeper never said a word in reply, but brought the heavy poker down upon his head and shoulders with right good will, and Jack Crab's tune changed on the instant.