Although Captain Latham considered the question ridiculous and utterly unworthy of a serious answer, he had replied to it.

He had told the sailor that to the best of his knowledge and belief the old Marlin B. was several thousand miles away from the Cape at that time, and that the Seamew was herself and no other.  In any case, he had said he had no personal fear of sailing in the schooner as long as he could keep a decent crew of seamen aboard her, but that he would stand for no more foolishness from his present crew.

Tunis had spoken quite boldly.  But, to tell the truth, he did not know where or how he was to sign another crew and a cook if the Portygees deserted the schooner.  Not at Big Wreck Cove.  He had heard too many whispers about the curse upon his schooner from people of all classes in the port.  Even Joshua Jones, who was supposed to be a pretty hard-headed merchant, had been influenced by the story ’Rion Latham had first told about the Seamew.  He and his father had hesitated to give Tunis an order for another lot of freight now waiting on the dock at Boston.  They wanted to be sure that the schooner was not going to sail from the latter port undermanned.  Whether or not the Joneses believed in the hoodoo, they did know that if the Seamew sailed without a proper crew their insurance on the freight would be invalid.

So the farther Tunis walked down toward the wharves, the more these thoughts assailed and overcame his mind, to the exclusion even of the tragic happenings back there on the Head the night before.  He could not consider Ida May Bostwick—­not even Sheila—­now.  The schooner, with her affairs, was a harsh mistress.  His all was invested in the Seamew, and business had not been so good thus far that he could withdraw with a profit.  Far from that!  There were financial reefs and shoals on either hand, and that fact the young skipper knew right well.

As he drew near to Portygee Town, he glanced toward the open door of Pareta’s cottage and saw the girl, Eunez, seated upon the step.  She did not come out to meet him, as had been her wont, but she hailed him as he approached—­though in a sharper tone than usual.

“So Captain Tunis Latham has still another girl?  He is a lion with the ladies, it is plain to be seen.  Ah!”

“You don’t mind, do you, Eunez?” replied the young man, trying to assume his usual careless manner of speech.  “You have the reputation of being pretty popular with the fellows yourself.”

“Ah!” she said again, tossing her head.  “Who is this new girl I see you walk with last evening, Tunis?”

“She is a stranger in Big Wreck Cove,” was his noncommittal reply.

“So I see.  They come and go for you, Tunis Latham.  You are the fickle man, eh?”

“Tut, tut, Eunez!” he laughed.  “Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones.  How about yourself?  Didn’t I see you going to church with Johnny Lark last Sunday?  And then, in the afternoon, you had another cavalier along the beaches.  Oh, I saw you!”