Sheila of Big Wreck Cove A Story of Cape Cod   By: James A. Cooper

By JAMES A. COOPER

AUTHOR OF "Tobias o' the Light," "Cap'n Jonah's Fortune" "Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper," etc.

WITH FRONTISPIECE BY R. EMMETT OWEN

A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York

Published by arrangement with George Sully & Company Printed in U.S.A.

COPYRIGHT, 1921 (AS A SERIAL)

COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY

[Frontispiece: "Come here and look at this craft, Prudence." Page 11 ( Sheila of Big Wreck Cove. )]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. CAP'N IRA AND PRUE II. THE CAPTAIN OF THE SEAMEW III. THE QUEEN OF SHEBA IV. AT THE LATHAM HOUSE V. LOOKING FOR IDA MAY VI. AN UNSATISFACTORY INTERVIEW VII. AT THE RESTAURANT VIII. SHEILA IX. A GIRL'S STORY X. THE PLOT XI. AT BIG WRECK COVE XII. A NEW HAND AT THE HELM XIII. SOME YOUNG MEN APPEAR XIV. THE HARVEST HOME FESTIVAL XV. AN INVITATION ACCEPTED XVI. MEMORIES AND TUNIS XVII. AUNT LUCRETIA XVIII. IDA MAY THINKS IT OVER XIX. THE ARRIVAL XX. THE LIE XXI. AT SWORDS' POINTS XXII. A WAY OUT XXIII. A CALL UNANNOUNCED XXIV. EUNEZ PARETA XXV. TO LOVE AND BE LOVED XXVI. ELDER MINNETT HAS HIS SAY XXVII. CAP'N IRA SPEAKS OUT XXVIII. GONE XXIX. ON THE TRAIL XXX. THE STORM XXXI. BITTER WATERS XXXII. A GIRL TO THE RESCUE XXXIII. A HAVEN OF REST

CHAPTER I

CAP'N IRA AND PRUE

Seated on this sunshiny morning in his old armchair of bent hickory, between his knees a cane on the head of which his gnarled hands rested, Captain Ira Ball was the true retired mariner of the old school. His ruddy face was freshly shaven, his scant, silvery hair well smoothed; everything was neat and trig about him, including his glazed, narrow brimmed hat, his blue pilot cloth coat, pleated shirt front as white as snow, heavy silver watch chain festooned upon his waist coat, and blue yarn socks showing between the bottom of his full, gray trouser legs and his well blacked low shoes.

For Cap'n Ira had commanded passenger carrying craft in his day, and was a bit of a dandy still. The niceties of maritime full dress were as important to his mind now that he had retired from the sea to spend his remaining days in the Ball homestead on Wreckers' Head as when he had trod the quarter deck of the old Susan Gatskill , or had occupied the chief seat at her saloon table.

"I don't know what's to become of us," repeated Cap'n Ira, wagging a thoughtful head, his gaze, as that of old people often is, fixed upon a point too distant for youthful eyes to see.

"I can't see into the future, Ira, any clearer than you can," rejoined his wife, glancing at his sagging, blue coated shoulders with some gentle apprehension.

She was a frail, little, old woman, one of those women who, after a robust middle age, seem gradually to shrivel to the figure of what they were in their youth, but with no charm of girlish lines remaining. Her face was wrinkled like a russet apple in February, and it had the colorings of that grateful fruit. She sat on the stone slab which served for a back door stoop peeling potatoes.

"I swan, Prue, you cut me in two places this mornin' when you shaved me," said Cap'n Ira suddenly and in some slight exasperation. "And I can't handle that dratted razor myself."

"Maybe you could get John Ed Williams to come over and shave you, Ira."

"John Ed's got his work to do. Then again, how're we going to pay him for such jobs? I swan! I can't afford a vally, Prue. Besides, you need help about the house more than I need a steward. I can get along without being shaved so frequent, I s'pose, but there's times when you can't scurce lift a pot of potatoes off the stove."

"Oh, now, Ira, I ain't so bad as all that!" declared his wife mildly.

"Yes, you be. I am always expecting you to fall down, or hurt yourself some way. And as for looking out for the Queen of Sheby "