He looked at her solemnly. "I am the happiest man alive. I am the happiest man alive, Ida May!" he breathed.
CHAPTER XVIII
IDA MAY THINKS IT OVER
The Seamew sailed next day, short-handed. Not only had Tony, the boy, left, but one of the foremast hands did not put in an appearance. A grinning Portygee boy came to the wharf and announced that "Paul, he iss ver' seek."
Tunis knew it would be useless to go after the man, just as it had been useless to go after Tony. He had been unable to ship another boy in Tony's place, and when he let it be known among the dock laborers and loungers about Luiz Wharf that there was a berth open in the Seamew's forecastle, nobody applied for it.
"What is the matter with those fellows?" the skipper asked Mason Chapin. "They were tumbling over each other a few weeks ago to join us, and now there isn't an offer."
"Some Portygee foolishness," grumbled the mate.
"I wonder," muttered Tunis.
"You wonder if it's so?" queried the mate. "You know how silly these people are once they get a crazy notion in their heads."