“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!”