ly now. Gran'ther Peleg left
all his money to me, and it made Orion and his folks as sore as can
be."

"You are inclined to be too kind. I am not sure it is always wise to
be too easy."

"Like chopping off the dog's tail an inch at a time, so's not to
hurt him so much, eh?" he chuckled.

"Something like that."

"Well, I'm almost tempted to give 'Rion his walking ticket. I've
reason enough. He can't even keep a manifest straight."

"Does he even try?"

"And that also is in my mind," acknowledged Tunis. "I'm pretty well
fed up on 'Rion, I do allow. But I don't know what Aunt 'Cretia
would say." Then he laughed again. "Just about what she usually
says, I guess; nothing at all. But she abhors family squabbles.

"That reminds me, Ida May. This being the first Sunday I've been
home since you came here, I want you should go over with me after
church to-morrow and have dinner at our house."

"Oh, Captain Latham! I--"

"And don't you guess you could employ some other term when speaking
to me, Ida May?" he interrupted. "I get 'captained' almost enough
aboard the schooner and up to Boston. Just plain 'Tunis' for those
that are my friends suits me a sight better."

"I shall call you 'Tunis,' if you like," she said composedly. "But
about taking dinner with you--I am not so sure."

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Your aunt has never called here since I have been on the Head."

"She don't call anywhere. She never did that I can remember. She
goes to church on Sunday sometimes. Occasionally she has to go to
town to buy things. Once in a dog's age she leaves anchor and gets
as far as Paulmouth. But other times she's never off the place."

"I--I feel hesitant about doing what you ask, Captain--Tunis, I
mean."

"Why?"

"You know well enough," said Sheila. "If anything should turn up--if
the truth should come out--"

"Now, are you still worrying about that, Ida May?"

"Don't you think of it--Tunis?"

"Not a bit! We're as safe as a church. That girl will never show up
here on Wreckers' Head. Of course not!"

He seemed absolutely confident. In the dim illumination of the
lantern she looked very closely into his face. Then it was not fear
of exposure that kept Tunis Latham silent. She moved closer to him,
looking up into his countenance, holding the lantern so that her own
face was in the shadow.

"Who suggested my coming to dinner, Tunis? You, or your Aunt
Lucretia?"

"If you knew my aunt! Well! She seldom says a wo