Tunis smoked a pipe with
Cap'n Ira after supper, while the girl cleared off the table and
washed and dried the dishes. Then he got her outside just after he
had bidden Cap'n Ira and Prudence good night.
They walked away silently from the kitchen door into the deep murk
of a starless night. The moaning of a rising sea upon the outer
reefs was the requiem of Sheila's hopes. One thing, she saw clearly,
she must do. If she remained and fought for her place with the
Balls, she must stand alone. Whether or not she held her place, she
must not allow Tunis to be linked with her in this situation. As she
slipped deeper and deeper into the morass, she could not cling to
him and drag him as well into infamy and disgrace.
Away from the house, fully out of earshot from the kitchen, she
halted. Tunis had taken her hand in his warm, encouraging grasp. She
let it remain, but she did not return his pressure.
"Dear, this is dreadful," he whispered, "I know. But leave it to me.
I'll find some way out."
"There is no way out, Tunis," she said confidently.
"Cat's-foot! Don't say that," he cried in exasperation. "There is
always a way out of every jam."
"This girl will do one of two things," said Sheila firmly.
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