"Let's hear your plan, Cap'n," said Tunis.
"It's like this," went on Cap'n Ira. "Prudence ain't got but one living relative, a grandniece, that's kin to her. That Ida May Bostwick we must have come and live with us, and that's all there is about it."
Tunis stared. He said:
"Never heard of her. She doesn't live anywhere around here, does she?"
"No, no! Lives to Boston."
"Boston!"
Why was it Tunis Latham felt that his heart skipped a beat? Memory of that pale, violet-eyed girl who worked in the restaurant on Scollay Square flashed across his mind like a shooting star. Indeed, he was so confused that he heard only a little at first of Cap'n Ira's rambling explanation. Then he caught:
"And if you will go to that address—Prue's got the street and number—and see Ida May Bostwick and tell her about us, you'd be doing us a kindness, Tunis."
"Me?" exclaimed the startled captain of the Seamew.
"Yes, you. The gal won't bite you. You're going to Boston next week, you say. Will you do it?"