CHAPTER X
STILL A MYSTERY
The day advanced to luncheon time and Uncle John and the Weldons cameback from their mountain trip. Hollywood is in the foothills and over thepasses are superb automobile roads into the fruitful valleys of SanFernando and La Canada.
"Seen anything of the boy--A. Jones?" inquired Arthur.
"Yes; and perhaps we've seen the last of him," answered Beth.
"Oh. Has he gone?"
"No one knows. Patsy fed him and he went to sleep. What has happenedsince we cannot tell."
The girls then related the experiences of the morning, at which bothUncle John and Arthur looked solemn and uncomfortable. But Louisesaid calmly:
"I think Patsy was quite right. I wouldn't have dared such a thingmyself, but I'm sure that boy needed a square meal more than anything. Ifhe dies, that breakfast has merely hastened his end; but if he doesn'tdie it will do him good."
"There's another possibility," remarked Uncle John. "He may be sufferingagonies with no one to help him."
Patsy's face was white as chalk. The last hour or two had brought herconsiderable anxiety and her uncle's horrible suggestion quite unnervedher. She stole away to the office and inquired the number of Mr. Jones'room. It was on the ground floor and easily reached by a passage. Thegirl tiptoed up to the door and putting her ear to the panel listenedintently. A moment later a smile broke over her face; she chuckleddelightedly and then turned and ran buck to her friends.
"He's snoring like a walrus!" she cried triumphantly.
"Are you sure they are not groans?" asked Arthur.
"Pah! Can't I recognize a snore when I hear it? And I'll bet it's thefirst sound sleep he's had in a month."
Mr. Merrick and Arthur went to the door of the boy's room to satisfythemselves that Patsy was not mistaken, and the regularity of the soundsquickly convinced them the girl was right. So they had a merry party atluncheon, calling Patsy "Doctor" with grave deference and telling her shehad probably saved the life of A. Jones for a second time.
"And now," proposed Uncle John, when the repast was over, "let us drivedown to the sea and have a look at that beautiful launch that came inyesterday. Everyone is talking about it and they say it belongs to someforeign prince."
So they motored to Santa Monica and spent the afternoon on the sands,watching the bathers and admiring the graceful outlines of the big yachtlying at anchor a half mile from the shore. The boat was something of amystery to everybody. It was named the "Arabella" and had come fromHawaii via San Francisco; but what it was doing here and who the ownermight be were questions no one seemed able to answer. Rumor had it thata Japanese prince had come in it to inspect the coast line, but newspaperreporters were forbidden to scale the side and no satisfaction was giventheir eager questioning by the bluff old captain who commanded the craft.So the girls snapped a few kodak pictures of the handsome yacht and thenlost interest in it.
That evening they met Mrs. Montrose and the Stanton girls at dinner andtold them about the boy, who still remained invisible. Uncle John hadlistened at his door again, but the snores had ceased and a deathlikesilence seemed to pervade the apartment. This rendered them all a trifleuneasy and when they left the dining room Arthur went to the hotel clerkand asked:
"Have you seen Mr. Jones this evening?"
"No," was the reply. "Do you know him?"
"Very slightly."
"Well, he's the queerest guest we've ever had. The first day he atenothing at all. This morning I hear he had a late breakfast. Wasn'taround to lunch, but a little while ago we sent a meal to his room thatwould surprise you."
"Indeed!"
"Yes. A strange order it was! Broiled mushrooms, pancakes with maplesyrup and ice cream. How is that for a mix-up--and at dinner time, too!"said the clerk, disgustedly.
Arthur went back and reported.
"All right," said Patsy, much relieved. "We've got him started and now hecan take care of himself. Come, Uncle; let's all go down town and see thepicture that drove Mr. Goldstein crazy."
"He was very decent to us to-day," asserted Flo Stanton.
"Did he ask any explanation about Maud's appearing in the picture of arival company?" inquired Arthur.
"No, not a word."
"Did he mention Mr. Jones, who conquered him so mysteriously?"asked Beth.
"Not at all. Goldstein confined himself strictly to business; but hetreated us with unusual courtesy," explained Maud.
They were curious to see the films of the rescue, and the entire partyrode to the down-town theatre where the Corona picture was being run.Outside the entrance they found the audacious placard, worded just asGoldstein had reported, and they all agreed it was a mean trick to claimanother firm's star as their own.
"I do not think the Corona Company is responsible for this announcement,"said Uncle John. "It is probably an idea of the theatre proprietor, whohoped to attract big business in that way."
"He has succeeded," grumbled Arthur, as he took his place at the end of along line of ticket buyers.
The picture, as it flashed on the screen, positively thrilled them. Firstwas shown the crowd of merry bathers, with Patsy and Maud standing in thewater a little apart from the others. Then the boy--far out beyond therest--threw up his arms, struggling desperately. Maud swam swiftly towardhim, Patsy making for the shore. The launching of the boat, the race torescue, Maud's effort to keep the drowning one afloat, and the return tothe shore, where an excited crowd surrounded them--all was clearly shownin the picture. Now they had the advantage of observing the expressionson the faces of the bathers when they discovered a tragedy was beingenacted in their midst. The photographs were so full of action that theparticipants now looked upon their adventure in a new light and regardedit far more seriously than before.
The picture concluded with the scene where Uncle John lifted the bodyinto the automobile and dashed away with it to the hospital.
Maud Stanton, used as she was to seeing herself in motion pictures, waseven more impressed than the others when observing her own actions at atime when she was wholly unconscious that a camera-man had his lensfocused upon her.
"It's a great picture!" whispered Flo, as they made their way out of thecrowded theatre. "Why can't all our films be as natural and absorbing asthis one?"
"Because," said her sister, "in this case there is no acting. The picturecarries conviction with a force that no carefully rehearsed scene couldever accomplish."
"That is true," agreed her Aunt Jane. "The nature scenes are the best,after all."
"The most unsatisfactory pictures I have ever seen," remarked Uncle John,"were those of prominent men, and foreign kings, and the like, who stopbefore the camera and bow as awkwardly as a camel. They know they areposing, and in spite of their public experience they're as bashful asschoolboys or as arrogant as policemen, according to their personalcharacteristics."
"Did you notice the mob of children in that theatre?" asked Patsy, asthey proceeded homeward. "I wish there were more pictures made that aresuitable to their understandings."
"They enjoy anything in the way of a picture," said Arthur. "It isn'tnecessary to cater to children; they'll go anyhow, whatever is shown."
"That may be, to an extent, true," said Beth. "Children are fascinated byany sort of motion pictures, but a lot of them must be whollyincomprehensible to the child mind. I agree with Patsy that the littleones ought to have their own theatres and their own pictures."
"That will come, in time," prophesied Aunt Jane. "Already the filmmakers are recognizing the value of the children's patronage and aretrying to find subjects that especially appeal to them."
They reached the hotel soon after ten o'clock and found "Ajo" seated inthe lobby. He appeared much brighter and stronger than the day before androse to greet Patsy with a smile that had lost much of its former sadexpression.
"Congratulate me, Dr. Doyle," said he. "I'm still alive, and--thanks toyour prescription--going as well as could be expected."
"I'm glad I did the right thing," she replied; "but we were all a littleworried for fear I'd make a mistake."
"I have just thrown away about a thousand of those food-tablets," heinformed her with an air of pride. "I am positive there is no substitutefor real food, whatever the specialists may say. In fact," he continuedmore soberly, "I believe you have rescued me a second time from certaindeath, for now I have acquired a new hope and have made up my mind toget well."
"Be careful not to overdo it," cautioned Uncle John. "You ordered aqueer supper, we hear."
"But it seemed to agree with me. I've had a delightful sleep--the firstsound sleep in a month--and already I feel like a new man. I waited up totell you this, hoping you would be interested."
"We are!" exclaimed Patsy, who felt both pride and pleasure. "Thisevening we have been to see the motion picture of your rescue fromdrowning."
"Oh. How did you like it?"
"It's a splendid picture. I'm not sure it will interest others as much asourselves, yet the people present seemed to like it."
"Well it was their last chance to observe my desperate peril and myheroic rescue," said the boy. "The picture will not be shown afterto-night."
"Why not?" they asked, in surprise.
"I bought the thing this afternoon. It didn't seem to me quite modest toexploit our little adventure in public."
This was a new phase of the strange boy's character and the girls didnot know whether to approve it or not.
"It must have cost you something!" remarked Flo, the irrepressible."Besides, how could you do it while you were asleep?"
"Why, I wakened long enough to use the telephone," he replied with asmile. "There are more wonderful inventions in the world than motionpictures, you know."
"But you like motion pictures, don't you?" asked Maud, wondering why hehad suppressed the film in question.
"Very much. In fact, I am more interested in them than in anything else,not excepting the telephone--which makes Aladdin's lamp look like afirefly in the sunshine."
"I suppose," said Flo, staring into his face with curious interest,"that you will introduce motion pictures into your island of Sangoa,when you return?"
"I suppose so," he answered, a little absently. "I had not consideredthat seriously, as yet, but my people would appreciate such a treat,I'm sure."
This speech seemed to destroy, in a manner, their shrewd conjecturethat he was in America to purchase large quantities of films. Why,then, should Goldstein have paid such abject deference to thisunknown islander?
In his own room, after the party had separated for the night, Mr. Merrickremarked to Arthur Weldon as they sat smoking their cigars:
"Young Jones is evidently possessed of some means."
"So it seems," replied Arthur. "Perhaps his father, the scientificrecluse, had accumulated some money, and the boy came to America to getrid of it. He will be extravagant and wasteful for awhile, and then goback to his island with the idea that he has seen the world."
Uncle John nodded.
"He is a rather clean-cut young fellow," said he, "and the chances are hewon't become dissipated, even though he loses his money through lack ofworldly knowledge or business experience. A boy brought up and educatedon an island can't be expected to prove very shrewd, and whatever theextent of his fortune it is liable to melt like snow in the sunshine."
"After all," returned Arthur, "this experience won't hurt him. He willstill have his island to return to."
They smoked for a time in silence.
"Has it ever occurred to you, sir," said Arthur, "that the story Joneshas related to us, meager though it is, bears somewhat the stamp of afairy tale?"
Uncle John removed his cigar and looked reflectively at the ash.
"You mean that the boy is not what he seems?"
"Scarcely that, sir. He seems like a good boy, in the main. But his storyis--such as one might invent if he were loath to tell the truth."
Uncle John struck a match and relit his cigar.
"I believe in A. Jones, and I see no reason to doubt his story," heasserted. "If real life was not full of romance and surprises, thenovelists would be unable to interest us in their books."