The voices inside were now loud and angry; the people were evidently not inclined to believe him.
“Oh, Jack, Jack!” screamed Molly. “He’s just behind us, Jack!”
Jack wheeled round and saw to his horror that the Pumpkin was near the top of the hill and close upon them. He was desperate. Raising the stone above his head, he flung it with all his strength at the big, grey, moving thing. There was a dull thud as the stone struck the Pumpkin and sent it back a few paces; but it quickly came to a standstill, and began at once to cover the ground it had lost.
Meanwhile a fresh arrival had come upon the scene behind the gate. In the midst of all the hubbub, the angry voices, the clanging bell, the pattering feet, there was a moment’s lull, and Jack and Molly could distantly hear the sound of running feet. Then a familiar voice exclaimed: “Hi, there! What’s all the fuss about?”
A score of voices started to explain.
Molly gave a sob of relief, “Oh, it’s Glan!” she cried.
“Glan! Glan!” the children called imploringly. “Open the gate quick and save us. Oh, do be quick!”
Glan’s face appeared at the grating.
“Bless my soul!” he cried in his big voice. “Here, give me the keys! Yes, I know it’s the Pumpkin too, but if we don’t open the gate this instant the little lady outside and her brother will be.... Give me the keys ... give me the keys! Decoys?... Bah!”
There was a jangling of keys again, the sound of a lock being turned, and the huge gate swung back.