“She wants a strait-jacket, I cal’late,” said Cap’n Ira.  “I don’t know what is best to do about her.  Prudence says she won’t have her in the house overnight.  ’Twould be too bad to have to put her in the town lockup.”

“You dare to!” shrieked Ida May, with courage born of desperation.

Tunis put Sheila tenderly aside.  He crossed the room to the other girl.  He showed no manner of sympathy for her, but he spoke quietly.

“This won’t do, you know.  Mr. and Mrs. Ball don’t want you here.  You have no claim on them—­none at all.  Even if you chanced to be a relation, they have not got to take you in if they don’t want to.”

“They’ve taken that other girl in!” cried Ida May wildly.

“That is their business.  They want her.  They don’t want you.  You have no more standing here than you would have if you went into the house of the governor of the State and demanded recognition there.”

“What a wicked man you are!” gasped Ida May.  “And—­and I thought you was a simp!”

Tunis did not even change color.  He addressed her as though he believed she was not right in her mind.  Sheila watched him, not now in fear, but in wonder.  She had thought she must battle with this girl for Tunis’ name and reputation.  But the captain of the Seamew had seized the reins of affairs himself and was likely to do much better in the emergency than Sheila could ever dream of doing.

“Come, now,” said Tunis Latham calmly.  “I do not know where you belong or where you came from last.  But you cannot stay here.  Cap’n Ira and Aunt Prue do not want you.  If you have any friends near—­”

“I’ve got friends all right!  You’ll find out that I’ve got ’em!” gasped the girl threateningly.

“You know anybody in Big Wreck Cove?”

“No, I don’t.  I’ve just come here.  But I mean to stay here till I get my rights.  I’ll show you all!”

“You can’t show us anything to-night,” interposed Tunis firmly.  “Whatever you mean to try to do cannot be done right now, you know.  You will have to sleep somewhere, and I shall have to do one of two things—­no, one of three things.”

She looked at him wonderingly, but she was listening.

“I will take you back to the port.  You cannot go home—­wherever you live—­to-night.  In the morning you can go over with Ben Craddock on the stage to Paulmouth.”

“I won’t!” The girl’s determination was roused.  There was a stubborn streak in her character that would make her a bitter antagonist.  Tunis, as well as Sheila, realized this.

“All right,” said the captain of the Seamew calmly.  “Then I’ll get you a place to stay down in the port.  Or I shall have to see the justice of the peace and have you committed for your own safety.”

“You don’t dare!” cried Ida May again.

“You tempt me too far, young woman,” he said sternly, “and you’ll find just how much I dare.  Will you come along with me now and behave yourself?”