"Well, what will you do, dearie?" sneered the old woman.
"My father will deal with such as you!" declared Betty, her eyes flashing. "You must put us ashore."
"The men will have to attend to that," the crone said. "One of 'em will be here pretty soon, and you'd better answer 'em fair, or it may be the worse for you."
Her tone was fierce now.
"Oh—oh, I—I feel faint," gasped Amy. "It is so close in here——"
"Get her some water," ordered Betty, authoritatively.
"It's right here," said the old woman. "I thought you'd want a drink. And you can have somethin' to eat as soon as you like. It sha'n't be said we starved you."
"Eat! I couldn't bear the sight of food!" said Betty, with a shudder. "Here, Amy, drink this. It seems to be—clean!" and Betty tried to express the contempt she felt for the slovenly appearance of the old woman.
Fortunately the water did seem to be drinkable, and it was quite cold, as though it had been on ice. Both girls drank gratefully, for their mouths were parched and dry.
"Are you better?" asked Betty, smoothing back the hair of her chum.