"Come on!" cried Tin-Back, and at the sound of his resolute voice there was a surprised exclamation from the group of men on the schooner's deck.
"All aboard!" yelled the old clammer. "We've got 'em where we want 'em! Close-hauled! We'll 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——"