“Oh!  I hope—­it can’t be that Ida May would leave us,” murmured Prudence.  “I don’t mean to be selfish.”

“Looks like we could get another gal easy enough if we wanted her,” remarked the old man, with some bitterness.  “I swan, Prue!  S’pose Ida May had turned out to be the sort of a gal that flyaway critter is?  We are blessed; we certainly are.”  And he treated himself to a liberal pinch of snuff.

Sheila did not wish to hear the two old people talk about the real Ida May Bostwick.  When Tunis took the girl away it was an enormous relief.  Of that she was quite sure.  The malevolent attitude of the frustrated Ida May was sufficient to frighten anybody.

Shelia was positive enough that, as Ida May had promised, the matter was not ended.  That venomous girl would not be content to leave Big Wreck Cove without making a further attempt—­perhaps many—­to establish herself in her right identity and in what she considered her rightful place with the Balls.

Supper was late that evening.  They were only just seated at the table when Tunis returned.

“Come on, boy,” said Cap’n Ira.  “There’s a place set for you.  Tell us what you did with that crazy girl.”

Sheila was busy between the stove and the table and did not come to the side of the captain of the Seamew as he took the chair indicated.  He was not smiling as usual, but neither did he seem alarmed.  He replied to the questions of the old people with tranquillity.

“I did not advise her to go to the Burchell House,” Tunis said.  “You know what a talker Sally Burchell is.  I remember that Mrs. Pauling took boarders in the summer, and I went to her with that girl.”

“You mean Zeb’s mother?” asked Prudence.  “Well, she’ll take care of her, I guess.  And Zeb is strong and willing.  If she gets crazy in the night, they ought to be able to hold her.”

A faint smile flickered for a moment about Tunis Latham’s stern lips.

“I don’t guess she will act up so very bad with strangers.”

“I swan!  We was strangers enough to her, it would seem,” exclaimed Cap’n Ira.

“But she seems to consider that you ought not to be,” Tunis pointed out.

“Never heard of such a thing!” muttered the old man.

“I would have been glad to get her out of town this very night,” Tunis observed quietly.  “But it could not be done.  She is convinced that she has what she calls ‘rights,’ and she proposes to remain and fight for them.”

“I swan!”

“You will have to be firm with her.  I explained to Zeb’s mother what we thought was the matter with her.  And I’ll try to find her friends.  She says she comes from Boston.”

“Goodness gracious gallop!” exclaimed the old woman, more angry than frightened now.  “She certainly can’t stay here and tell those awful things she was saying about Ida May.”

“I don’t really see how we are going to stop her, right at first,” Tunis rejoined.  “Of course, if she continues to come up here and bother you, you can have her arrested.”