Sheila rode with Prudence on the rear seat of the carryall.
"I'm berthed on the for'ard deck along o' you, Tunis," said the old
man, hoisting himself with difficulty into the front seat. "If the
afterguard is all ready, I be. Trip the anchor, boy, and set sail!"
As they passed down through Portygee Town the denizens of that part
of Big Wreck Cove were streaming to their own place of worship. It
was a saint's day, and the brown people--both men and women, ringed
of ears and garbed in the very gayest colors--gave way with smiles
and bows for the jogging old mare and the rumbling carryall. Some of
the _Seamew's_ crew were overtaken, and they swept off their hats to
Prudence and the supposed Ida May, grinning up at Tunis with more
than usual friendliness.
"Ah!" exclaimed Eunez Pareta to Johnny Lark, the _Seamew's_ cook.
"So you know she of the evil eye, eh?"
"What do you mean?" asked Johnny. "That pretty girl who rides behind
Captain Latham?"
"_Si!_"
"She has no evil eye," declared the cook stoutly.
"It is told me that she has," said the smiling girl. "And she has
put what you call the 'hoodoo' on that schooner. She come down in
her from Boston."
"What of it?" retorted the cook.
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