eved that the girl beside him on this bench
returned his passion, that she would even listen to his
protestations of affection. Not for a long time, at least.

Nor had he ever considered marriage as possible in any case when
there was not love on both sides. Although he commiserated Sheila
Macklin's situation most deeply, he could not dream of those depths
of despair into which the girl's heart had sunk before he came upon
the scene of action. He did not understand that she was at that
bitterly desperate point where she would grasp at any means of
rescue which promised respectability.

He almost feared to put before her the proposition he did have in
his mind. In the dusk, even, those violet eyes seemed to look to the
very bottom of his soul. Fortunate for him that its clarity was
visible to the girl at that moment.

He bent closer. His lips almost brushed her ear. He whispered
several swift sentences into it. She listened. Some of that glow of
exaltation drained out of her countenance, but it registered no
disagreement. They sat for some time thereafter, talking, planning,
this desperate young girl and the captain of the _Seamew_.

* * * * *

"What do you know about this?" Orion Latham growled. "The mate
bunkin' in with cooky and the skipper slingin' a hammock in the
fo'c's'le while the whole cabin's to be given up to a girl. A woman
aboard! Never knew no good to come of that on any craft. What is
this schooner, a passenger packet?"

"You was sayin' she was already hoodooed," chuckled Horace Newbegin.
"I cal'late a gal sailing one trip won't materially harm the
_Seamew_ nor her crew."

"Who is she? That's what I want to know," said the supercargo, who
seemed to consider the matter a personal affront.

"Skipper says she's going to live with Cap'n Ira Ball. She's some
kin of his wife's. And they need somebody with 'em, up there in that
lonesome place," said the ancient seaman reflectively. "That's what
the skipper was doin' all day yesterday, lookin' this gal up and
making arrangements for her going back to the _Seamew_. He's gone up
town to get her now. We'll get away come the turn of the tide, if
he's back in time."

The taxicab with Tunis and the girl arrived in season for the tide.
It was quite dark on the dock to which the _Seamew_ was still
moored. The Captain hailed, and two of the hands were sent up for
the trunk. Tunis carried the girl's hand bag.

Every member of the