This fact, however, did not cause Sheila, the imposter, to lose sight of the point that Cap’n Ira and his wife could both be very stern in attitude and speech toward the evildoer.  They made no compromises with evil.

Even the old man, philosophical as he was and wont to look upon most human frailities with a lenient if not a humorous eye, would not excuse actual crime.  And something very like a crime had been committed.

The day passed without any reappearance of Ida May upon Wreckers’ Head, but just after nightfall and while the supper dishes were being cleared away, Zebedee Pauling knocked at the kitchen door.  All three of the Ball household looked upon the young fellow expectantly when he stepped in.

“I was just passing by and thought I’d look in and see how you all were,” said Zeb, with his usual shy manner and apologetic smile.

“Come in and set down, Zeb,” said the captain eagerly.  “I cal’late you’ve got some news for us.”

“I don’t know,” said Zeb thoughtfully, “but what you’ve got some news that might satisfy mom and me.  That is, about that girl Tunis brought to the house.”

“What about her, Zeb?” queried Prudence anxiously.

“Mom and I would be glad to know what you know about her,” said Zebedee.  “She—­she ’pears to have a—­a great imagination.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” Cap’n Ira snorted.

“She don’t act crazy, but she certainly talks crazy,” the visitor went on emphatically.  “Why, she says the most ridiculous things about—­about Miss Bostwick!” He bowed and blushed as he spoke the name and looked penitently toward Sheila.  “Why, she declares her name is Bostwick!”

“That’s what she done up here,” said Cap’n Ira grimly.  “I cal’late she means to kick up a fuss.  Is she still stopping with your mother, Zeb?”

“Yes.  She paid a week’s board money down.  I expect mom wouldn’t have taken her, or it, if Tunis hadn’t brought her.”

“That wasn’t Tunis’ fault,” snapped the old man.  “He had to get shet of her somehow.  We expect she’ll try to make trouble.”

“Oh, as for that,” said Zeb, with some relief, “I don’t see, even if she is your niece, why she should expect you to take her in if you don’t want to!”

“She ain’t,” said Cap’n Ira flatly.  “You can take that from me, Zeb.”

“Not any relation at all?”

“None at all, as far as we know,” declared the captain.

“Then what does she want to talk the way she does, for?” cried the young man.  “I told mom she was crazy, and now I know she is.”

“I guess likely,” agreed the old man, taking upon himself the burden of the explanation.  “None of us up here ever saw the gal before.  Neither Prudence nor me nor Ida May.  She’s loony!”

“I told mom so,” reiterated Zeb, with a great sigh of relief.  “I know what she said must be a pack of foolishness.  But you know how mom is.  I—­”