text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 17

Uncle John was off on his errands even before Jones and Arthur Weldon had driven away from the hotel with the officer and Le Drieux. There had been no "scene" and none of the guests of the hotel had any inkling of the arrest.

Uncle John had always detested lawyers and so he realized that he was sure to be a poor judge of the merits of any legal gentleman he might secure to defend Jones.

"I may as well leave it to chance," he grumbled, as he drove down the main boulevard. "The rascals are all alike!"

Glancing to this side and that, he encountered a sign on a building: "Fred A. Colby, Lawyer."

"All right; I mustn't waste time," he said, and stopping his driver he ascended a stairway to a gloomy upper hall. Here the doors, all in a row, were alike forbidding, but one of them bore the lawyer's name, so Mr. Merrick turned the handle and abruptly entered.

A sallow-faced young man, in his shirt-sleeves, was seated at a table littered with newspapers and magazines, engaged in the task of putting new strings on a battered guitar. As his visitor entered he looked up in surprise and laid down the instrument.

"I want to see Colby, the lawyer," began Uncle John, regarding the disordered room with strong disapproval.

"You are seeing him," retorted the young man, with a fleeting smile, "and I'll bet you two to one that if you came here on business you will presently go away and find another lawyer."

"Why?" questioned Mr. Merrick, eyeing him more closely.

"I don't impress people," explained Colby, picking up the guitar again. "I don't inspire confidence. As for the law, I know it as well as anyone—which is begging the question—but when I'm interviewed I have to admit I've had no experience."

"No practice?"

"Just a few collections, that's all. I sleep on that sofa yonder, eat at a cafeteria, and so manage to keep body and soul together. Once in a while a stranger sees my sign and needs a lawyer, so he climbs the stairs. But when he meets me face to face he beats a hasty retreat."

As he spoke, Colby tightened a string and began strumming it to get it tuned. Uncle John sat down on the one other chair in the room and thought a moment.

"You've been admitted to the bar?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Graduate of the Penn Law School."

"Then you know enough to defend an innocent man from an unjust accusation?"

Colby laid down the guitar.

"Ah!" said he, "this grows interesting. I really believe you have half a mind to give me your case. Sir, I know enough, I hope, to defend an innocent man; but I can't promise, offhand, to save him, even from an unjust accusation."

"Why not? Doesn't law stand for justice?"

"Perhaps; in the abstract. Anyhow, there's a pretty fable to that effect. But law in the abstract, and law as it is interpreted and applied, are not even second cousins. To be quite frank, I'd rather defend a guilty person than an innocent one. The chances are I'd win more easily. Are you sure your man is innocent?"

Uncle John scowled.

"Perhaps I'd better find another lawyer who is more optimistic," he said.

"Oh, I'm full of optimism, sir. My fault is that I'm not well known in the courts and have no arrangement to divide my fees with the powers that be. But I've been observing and I know the tricks of the trade as well as any lawyer in California. My chief recommendation, however, is that I'm eager to get a case, for my rent is sadly overdue. Why not try me, just to see what I'm able to do? I'd like to find that out myself."

"This is a very important matter," asserted Mr. Merrick.

"Very. If I'm evicted for lack of rent-money my career is crippled."

"I mean the case is a serious one."

"Are you willing to pay for success?"

"Liberally."

"Then I'll win it for you. Don't judge my ability by my present condition, sir. Tell me your story and I'll get to work at once."

Uncle John rose with sudden decision.

"Put on your coat," he said, and while Colby obeyed with alacrity he gave him a brief outline of the accusation brought against Jones. "I want you to take my car," he added, "and hasten to the police station, that you may be present at the preliminary examination. There will be plenty of time to talk afterward."

Colby nodded. His coat and hat made the young lawyer quite presentable and without another word he followed Mr. Merrick down the stairs and took his seat in the motorcar. Next moment he was whirling down the street and Uncle John looked after him with a half puzzled expression, as if he wondered whether or not he had blundered in his choice of a lawyer.

A little later he secured a taxicab and drove to the office of the Continental Film Manufacturing Company. Mr. Goldstein was in his office but sent word that he was too busy to see visitors. Nevertheless, when Mr. Merrick declared he had been sent by A. Jones, he was promptly admitted to the manager's sanctum.

"Our friend, young Jones," he began, "has just been arrested by a detective."

Goldstein's nervous jump fairly raised him off his chair; but in an instant he settled back and shot an eager, interested look at his visitor.

"What for, Mr. Merrick?" he demanded.

"For stealing valuable pearls from some foreign woman. A trumped-up charge, of course."

Goldstein rubbed the palms of his hands softly together. His face wore a look of supreme content.

"Arrested! Ah, that is bad, Mr. Merrick. It is very bad indeed. And it involves us—the Continental, you know—in an embarrassing manner."

"Why so?" asked Uncle John.

"Can't you see, sir?" asked the manager, trying hard to restrain a smile. "If the papers get hold of this affair, and state that our president—our biggest owner—the man who controls the Continental stock—is a common thief, the story will—eh—eh—put a bad crimp in our business, so to speak."

Uncle John looked at the man thoughtfully.

"So Jones controls the Continental, eh?" he said. "How long since, Mr. Goldstein?"

"Why, since the January meeting, a year and more ago. It was an astonishing thing, and dramatic—believe me! At the annual meeting of stockholders in walks this stripling—a mere kid—proves that he holds the majority of stock, elects himself president and installs a new board of directors, turning the tired and true builders of the business out in the cold. Then, without apology, promise or argument, President Jones walks out again! In an hour he upset the old conditions, turned our business topsy-turvy and disappeared with as little regard for the Continental as if it had been a turnip. That stock must have cost him millions, and how he ever got hold of it is a mystery that has kept us all guessing ever since. The only redeeming feature of the affair was that the new board of directors proved decent and Jones kept away from us all and let us alone. I'd never seen him until he came here a few days ago and began to order me around. So, there, Mr. Merrick, you know as much about Jones as I do."

Mr. Merrick was perplexed. The more he heard of young Jones the more amazing; the boy seemed to be.

"Has the Continental lost money since Jones took possession?" he inquired.

"I think not," replied Goldstein, cautiously. "You're a business man, Mr. Merrick, and can understand that our machinery—our business system—is so perfect that it runs smoothly, regardless of who grabs the dividends. What I object to is this young fellow's impertinence in interfering with my work here. He walks in, reverses my instructions to my people, orders me to do unbusinesslike things and raises hob with the whole organization."

"Well, it belongs to him, Goldstein," said Uncle John, in defense of the boy. "He is your employer and has the right to dictate. But just at present he needs your help. He asked me to come here and tell you of his arrest."

Goldstein shrugged his shoulders.

"His arrest is none of my business," was his reply. "If Jones stole the money to buy Continental stock he must suffer the consequences. I'm working for the stock, not for the individual."

"But surely you will go to the station and see what can be done for him?" protested Uncle John.

"Surely I will not," retorted the manager. "What's the use? There isn't even a foot of good picture film in so common a thing as the arrest of a thief—and the censors would forbid it if there were. Let Jones fight his own battles."

"It occurs to me," suggested Mr. Merrick, who was growing indignant, "that Mr. Jones will be able to satisfy the court that he is not a thief, and so secure his freedom without your assistance. What will happen then, Mr. Goldstein?"

"Then? Why, it is still none of my business. I'm the manager of a motion picture concern—one of the biggest concerns in the world—and I've nothing to do with the troubles of my stockholders."

He turned to his desk and Mr. Merrick was obliged to go away without farther parley. On his way out he caught a glimpse of Maud Stanton passing through the building. She was dressed in the costume of an Indian princess and looked radiantly beautiful. Uncle John received a nod and a smile and then she was gone, without as yet a hint of the misfortune that had overtaken A. Jones of Sangoa.

Returning to the hotel, rather worried and flustered by the morning's events, he found the girls quietly seated in the lobby, busy over their embroidery.

"Well, Uncle," said Patsy, cheerfully, "is Ajo still in limbo?"

"I suppose so," he rejoined, sinking into an easy chair beside her. "Is Arthur back yet?"

"No," said Louise, answering for her husband, "he is probably staying to do all he can for the poor boy."

"Did you get a lawyer?" inquired Beth.

"I got a fellow who claims to be a lawyer; but I'm not sure he will be of any use."

Then he related his interview with Colby, to the amusement of his nieces, all three of whom approved the course he had taken and were already prepared to vouch for the briefless barrister's ability, on the grounds that eccentricity meant talent.

"You see," explained Miss Patsy, "he has nothing else to do but jump heart and soul into this case, so Ajo will be able to command his exclusive services, which with some big, bustling lawyer would be impossible."

Luncheon was over before Arthur finally appeared, looking somewhat grave and perturbed.

"They won't accept bail," he reported. "Jones must stay in jail until his formal examination, and if they then decide that he is really Jack Andrews he will remain in jail until his extradition papers arrive."

"When will he be examined?" asked Louise.

"Whenever the judge feels in the humor, it seems. Our lawyer demanded Jones' release at once, on the ground that a mistake of identity had been made; but the stupid judge is of the opinion that the charge against our friend is valid. At any rate he refused to let him go. He wouldn't even argue the case at present. He issues a warrant on a charge of larceny, claps a man in jail whether innocent or not, and refuses to let him explain anything or prove his innocence until a formal examination is held."

"There is some justice in that," remarked Uncle John. "Suppose Jones is guilty; it would be a mistake to let him go free until a thorough examination had been made."

"And if he is innocent, he will have spent several days in jail, been worried and disgraced, and there is no redress for the false imprisonment. The judge won't even apologize to him!"

"It's all in the interests of law and order, I suppose," said Patsy; "but the law seems dreadfully inadequate to protect the innocent. I suppose it's because the courts are run by cheap and incompetent people who couldn't earn a salary in any other way."

"Someone must run them, and it isn't an ambitious man's job," replied Uncle John. "What do you think of the lawyer I sent you, Arthur?"

The young ranchman smiled.

"He's a wonder, Uncle. He seemed to know more about the case than Jones or I did, and more about the law than the judge did. He's an irrepressible fellow, and told that rascal Le Drieux a lot about pearls that the expert never had heard before. Where did you find him, sir?"

Uncle John explained.

"Well," said Arthur, "I think Jones is in good hands. Colby has secured him a private room at the jail, with a bath and all the comforts of home. Meals are to be sent in from a restaurant and when I left the place the jailer had gone out to buy Jones a stock of books to while away his leisure hours—which are bound to be numerous. I'd no idea a prisoner could live in such luxury."

"Money did it, I suppose," Patsy shrewdly suggested.

"Yes. Jones wrote a lot of checks. Colby got a couple of hundred for a retaining fee and gleefully informed us it was more money than he had ever owned at one time in all his previous career. I think he will earn it, however."

"Where is he now?" asked Uncle John.

"Visiting all the newspaper offices, to 'buy white space,' as he put it. In other words, Colby will bribe the press to silence, at least until the case develops."

"I'm glad of that," exclaimed Beth. "What do you think of this queer business, Arthur?"

"Why, I've no doubt of the boy's innocence, if that is what you mean. I've watched him closely and am positive he is no more Jack Andrews than I am. But I fear he will have a hard task to satisfy the judge that he is falsely accused. It would be an admission of error, you see, and so the judge will prefer to find him guilty. It is this same judge—Wilton, I think his name is—who will conduct the formal examination, and to-day he openly sneered at the mention of Sangoa. On the other hand, he evidently believed every statement made by Le Drieux about the identity of the pearls found in Jones' possession. Le Drieux has a printed list of the Ahmberg pearls, and was able to check the Jones' pearls off this list with a fair degree of accuracy. It astonished even me, and I could see that Jones was equally amazed."

"Wouldn't it be queer if they convicted him!" exclaimed Beth.

"It would be dreadful, since he is innocent," said Patsy.

"There is no need to worry about that just at present," Arthur assured them. "I am placing a great deal of confidence in the ability of Lawyer Colby."

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 17


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 18

The Stanton girls and Mrs. Montrose came in early that afternoon. They had heard rumors of the arrest of Jones and were eager to learn what had occurred. Patsy and Beth followed them to their rooms to give them every known detail and canvass the situation in all its phases.

"Goldstein has been an angel all afternoon," said Flo. "He grinned and capered about like a schoolboy and some of us guessed he'd been left a fortune."

"He ought to be ashamed of himself." Patsy indignantly asserted. "The man admitted to Uncle John that Ajo is the biggest stockholder in the Continental, the president, to boot; yet Goldstein wouldn't lift a finger to help him and positively refused to obey his request to go to him after he was arrested."

"I know about that," said Aunt Jane, quietly. "Goldstein talked to me about the affair this afternoon and declared his conviction that young Jones is really a pearl thief. He has taken a violent dislike to the boy and is delighted to think his stock will be taken away from him."

Maud had silently listened to this dialogue as she dressed for dinner. But now she impetuously broke into the conversation, saying:

"Something definite ought to be done for the boy. He needs intelligent assistance. I'm afraid his situation is serious."

"That is what Arthur thinks," said Beth. "He says that unless he can furnish proof that he is not Jack Andrews, and that he came by those pearls honestly, he will be shipped to Austria for trial. No one knows what those foreigners will do to him, but he would probably fare badly in their hands."

"Such being the logical conclusion," said Maud, "we must make our fight now, at the examination."

"Uncle John has engaged a lawyer," announced Patsy, "and if he proves bright and intelligent he ought to be able to free Ajo."

"I'd like to see that lawyer, and take his measure," answered Maud, musingly, and her wish was granted soon after they had finished dinner. Colby entered the hotel, jaunty as ever, and Arthur met him and introduced him to the girls.

"You must forgive me for coming on a disagreeable mission," began the young attorney, "but I have promised the judge that I would produce all the pearls Mr. Jones gave you, not later than to-morrow morning. He wants them as evidence, and to compare privately with Le Drieux's list, although he will likely have the expert at his elbow. So I can't promise that you will ever get your jewels back again."

"Oh. You think, then, that Mr. Jones is guilty?" said Maud coldly.

"No, indeed; I believe he is innocent. A lawyer should never suspect his client, you know. But to win I must prove my case, and opposed to me is that terrible Le Drieux, who insists he is never mistaken."

"Arthur—Mr. Weldon—says you understand pearls as well as Mr. Le Drieux does," suggested Patsy.

"I thank him; but he is in error. I chattered to the judge about pearls, it is true, because I found he couldn't tell a pearl from a glass bead; and I believe I even perplexed Le Drieux by hinting at a broad knowledge on the subject which I do not possess. It was all a bit of bluff on my part. But by to-morrow morning this knowledge will be a fact, for I've bought a lot of books on pearls and intend to sit up all night reading them."

"That was a clever idea," said Uncle John, nodding approval.

"So my mission here this evening is to get the pearls, that I may study them as I read," continued Colby. "Heretofore I've only seen the things through a plate glass window, or a show case. The success of our defense depends upon our refuting Le Drieux's assertion that the pearls found in Jones' possession are a part of the Countess Ahmberg's collection. He has a full description of the stolen gems and I must be prepared to show that none of the Jones' pearls is on the list."

"Can you do that?" asked Maud.

She was gazing seriously into the young man's eyes and this caused him to blush and stammer a little as he replied:

"I—I hope to, Miss Stanton."

"And are you following no other line of defense?" she inquired.

He sat back and regarded the girl curiously for a moment.

"I would like you to suggest some other line of defense," he replied. "I've tried to find one—and failed."

"Can't you prove he is not Jack Andrews?"

"Not if the identity of the pearls is established," said the lawyer. "If the pearls were stolen, and if Jones cannot explain how he obtained possession of them, the evidence is prima facia that he is Jack Andrews, or at least his accomplice. Moreover, his likeness to the photograph is somewhat bewildering, you must admit."

This gloomy view made them all silent for a time, each thoughtfully considering the matter. Then Maud asked:

"Do you know the cash value of Mr. Jones' stock in the Continental Film Company?"

Colby shook his head, but Uncle John replied:

"Goldstein told me it is worth millions."

"Ah!" exclaimed the girl. "There, then, is our proof."

The lawyer reflected, with knitted brows.

"I confess I don't quite see your point," said he.

"How much were those stolen pearls worth?" asked the girl.

"I don't know."

"You know they were not worth millions. Jack Andrews was an adventurer, by Le Drieux's showing; he was a fellow who lived by his wits and generally earned his livelihood by gambling with the scions of wealthy families. Even had he stolen the Countess' pearls and disposed of the collection at enormous prices—which a thief is usually unable to do—he would still have been utterly unable to purchase a controlling interest in the Continental stock."

She spoke with quiet assurance, but her statement roused the group to sudden excitement.

"Hooray!" cried Patsy. "There's your proof, Mr. Colby."

"The logic of genius," commented Uncle John.

"Why, it's proof positive!" said Beth.

"It is certainly a strong argument in favor of the boy's innocence," asserted Arthur Weldon.

"Maud's a wonder when she wakes up. She ought to have been a 'lady detective,'" remarked Flo, regarding her sister admiringly.

Colby, at first startled, was now also regarding Maud Stanton with open admiration; but there was an odd smile on his lips, a smile of indulgent toleration.

"Le Drieux's statement connects Andrews with two other pearl robberies," he reminded her. "The necklace of the Princess Lemoine is said to be priceless, and the Grandison collection stolen in London was scarcely less valuable than that of Countess Ahmberg."

"Allowing all that," said Mr. Merrick, "two or three hundred thousand dollars would doubtless cover the value of the entire lot. I am quite certain, Mr. Colby, that Miss Stanton's suggestion will afford you an excellent line of defense."

"I shall not neglect it, you may be sure," replied the lawyer. "Tonight I'll try to figure out, as nearly as possible, the total cash value of all the stolen pearls, and of course Jones will tell us what he paid for his stock, or how much it is worth. But I am not sure this argument will have as much weight as Miss Stanton suggests it may. A bold gambler, such as Andrews, might have obtained a huge sum at Baden Baden or Monte Carlo; and, were he indeed so clever a thief as his record indicates, he may have robbed a bank, or stolen in some way an immense sum of money. Logically, the question has weight and I shall present it as effectively as I can; but, as I said, I rely more on my ability to disprove the identity of the pearls, on which the expert Le Drieux lays so much stress. Jones will have a thorough and formal examination within a few days—perhaps to-morrow—and if the judge considers that Andrews the pearl thief has been captured, he will be held here pending the arrival from Washington of the extradition papers—say two or three weeks longer."

"Then we shall have all that time to prove his innocence?" inquired Maud.

"Unfortunately, no. There will be no further trial of the prisoner until he gets to Vienna and is delivered to the authorities there. All our work must be done previous to the formal examination."

"You do not seem very hopeful," observed Maud, a hint of reproach in her tone.

"Then appearances are against me, Miss Stanton," replied the lawyer with a smile. "This is my first important case, and if I win it my future is assured; so I mean to win. But in order to do that I must consider the charge of the prosecution, the effect of its arguments upon the judge, and then find the right means to combat them. When I am with you, the friends of the accused, I may consider the seamy side of the fabric; but the presiding judge will find me so sure of my position that he will instinctively agree with me."

They brought him the pearls Jones had presented to them and then the lawyer bade them good night and went to his office to master the history of pearls in general and those famous ones stolen from Countess Ahmberg in particular.

When he had gone Uncle John remarked:

"Well, what do you think of him?"

They seemed in doubt.

"I think he will do all he can," said Patsy.

"And he appears quite a clever young man," added Beth, as if to encourage them.

"Allowing all that," said Maud, gravely, "he has warned us of the possibility of failure. I cannot understand how the coils of evidence have wrapped themselves so tightly around poor Ajo."

"That," asserted Flo, "is because you cannot understand Ajo himself. Nor can I; nor can any of us!"

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 18


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 19

My mother used to say to me: "Never expect to find brains in a pretty girl." Perhaps she said it because I was not a pretty girl and she wished to encourage me. In any event, that absurd notion of the ancients that when the fairies bestow the gift of beauty on a baby they withhold all other qualities has so often been disproved that we may well disregard it.

Maud Stanton was a pretty girl—indeed, a beautiful girl—but she possessed brains as well as beauty and used her intellect to advantage more often than her quiet demeanor would indicate to others than her most intimate associates. From the first she had been impressed by the notion that there was something mysterious about A. Jones and that his romantic explanation of his former life and present position was intended to hide a truth that would embarrass him, were it fully known. Therefore she had secretly observed the young man, at such times as they were together, and had treasured every careless remark he had made—every admission or assertion—and made a note of it. The boy's arrest had startled her because it was so unexpected, and her first impulse was to doubt his innocence. Later, however, she had thoroughly reviewed the notes she had made and decided he was innocent.

In the quiet of her own room, when she was supposed to be asleep, Maud got out her notebook and read therein again the review of all she had learned concerning A. Jones of Sangoa.

"For a boy, he has a good knowledge of business; for a foreigner, he has an excellent conception of modern American methods," she murmured thoughtfully. "He is simple in little things; shrewd, if not wise, in important matters. He proved this by purchasing the control of the Continental, for its shares pay enormous dividends.

"Had he stolen those pearls, I am sure he would have been too shrewd to have given a portion of them to us, knowing we would display them openly and so attract attention to them. A thief so ingenious as Andrews, for instance, would never have done so foolish a thing as that, I am positive. Therefore, Jones is not Andrews.

"Now, to account for the likeness between Andrews, an American adventurer, and Jones, reared and educated in the mysterious island of Sangoa. Ajo's father must have left some near relatives in this country when he became a recluse in his far-away island. Why did he become a recluse? That's a subject I must consider carefully, for he was a man of money, a man of science, a man of affairs. Jones has told us he has no relatives here. He may have spoken honestly, if his father kept him in ignorance of the family history. I'm not going to jump at the conclusion that the man who calls himself Jack Andrews is a near relative of our Ajo—a cousin, perhaps—but I'll not forget that that might explain the likeness between them.

"Ajo's father must have amassed a great fortune, during many years, from his pearl fisheries. That would explain why the boy has so much money at his disposal. He didn't get it from the sale of stolen pearls, that is certain. In addition to the money he invested in the Continental, he has enough in reserve to expend another million or so in Patsy Doyle's motion picture scheme, and he says he can spare it easily and have plenty left! This, in my opinion, is a stronger proof of Jones' innocence than Lawyer Colby seems to consider it. To me, it is conclusive.

"Now, then, where is Sangoa? How can one get to the island? And, finally, how did Jones get here from Sangoa and how is he to return, if he ever wants to go back to his valuable pearl fisheries, his people and his home?"

She strove earnestly to answer these questions, but could not with her present knowledge. So she tucked the notebook into a drawer of her desk, put out her light and got into bed.

But sleep would not come to her. The interest she took in the fate of young Jones was quite impersonal. She liked the boy in the same way she had liked dozens of boys. The fact that she had been of material assistance in saving his life aroused no especial tenderness in her. On his own account, however, Jones was interesting to her because he was so unusual. The complications that now beset him added to this interest because they were so curious and difficult to explain. Maud had the feeling that she had encountered a puzzle to tax her best talents, and so she wanted to solve it.

Suddenly she bounded out of bed and turned on the electric light. The notebook was again brought into requisition and she penciled on its pages the following words:

"What was the exact date that Jack Andrews landed in America? What was the exact date that Ajo landed from Sangoa? The first question may be easily answered, for doubtless the police have the record. But—the other?"

Then she replaced the book, put out the light and went to sleep very easily.

That last thought, now jotted down in black and white, had effectually cleared her mind of its cobwebs.

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 19


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 21

As the party drove into town Colby said:

"It wouldn't be a bad idea for Jones to bribe that fellow Le Drieux. If Le Drieux, who holds a warrant for the arrest of Jack Andrews, issued by the Austrian government and vised in Washington, could be won to our side, the whole charge against our friend might be speedily dissolved."

"Disgraceful!" snapped Maud indignantly. "I am positive Mr. Jones would not consider such a proposition."

"Diplomatic, not disgraceful," commented the lawyer, smiling at her. "Why should Jones refuse to consider bribery?"

"To use money to defeat justice would be a crime as despicable as stealing pearls," she said.

"Dear me!" muttered Colby, with a puzzled frown. "What a queer way to look at it. Le Drieux has already been bribed, by a liberal reward, to run down a supposed criminal. If we bribe him with a larger sum to give up the pursuit of Jones, whom we believe innocent, we are merely defending ourselves from a possible injustice which may be brought about by an error of judgment."

"Isn't this judge both able and honest?" asked Uncle John.

"Wilton? Well, possibly. His ability consists in his knowledge of law, rather than of men and affairs. He believes himself honest, I suppose, but I'll venture to predict he will act upon prejudice and an assumption of personal dignity, rather than attempt to discover if his personal impressions correspond with justice. A judge, Mr. Merrick, is a mere man, with all the average man's failings; so we must expect him to be quite human."

"Never mind," said Patsy resignedly. "Perhaps we shall find him a better judge than you are lawyer."

"He has had more experience, anyhow," said Colby, much amused at the shot.

They found, on arriving at court, that the case had already been postponed. They drove to the jail and obtained permission to see the prisoner, who was incarcerated under the name of "Jack Andrews, alias A. Jones." Maud would have liked a private audience, but the lawyer was present as well as Patsy and Mr. Merrick, and she did not like to ask them to go away.

The boy greeted them with his old frank smile and did not seem in the least oppressed by the fact that he was a prisoner accused of an ugly crime. The interview was held in a parlor of the jail, a guard standing by the door but discreetly keeping out of earshot.

Colby first informed the boy of the postponement of his formal examination and then submitted to his client an outline of the defense he had planned. Jones listened quietly and shook his head.

"Is that the best you can do for me?"

"With my present knowledge, yes," returned the lawyer.

"And will it clear me from this suspicion?" was the next question.

"I hope so."

"You are not sure?"

"This is an extraordinary case, Mr. Jones. Your friends all believe you innocent, but the judge wants facts—cold, hard facts—and only these will influence him. Mr. Le Drieux, commissioned by the Austrian government, states that you are Jack Andrews, and have escaped to America after having stolen the pearls of a noble Viennese lady. He will offer, as evidence to prove his assertion, the photograph and the pearls. You must refute this charge with counter-evidence, in order to escape extradition and a journey to the country where the crime was committed. There you will be granted a regular trial, to be sure, but even if you then secure an acquittal you will have suffered many indignities and your good name will be permanently tarnished."

"Well, sir?"

"I shall work unceasingly to secure your release at the examination. But I wish I had some stronger evidence to offer in rebuttal."

"Go ahead and do your best," said the boy, nonchalantly. "I will abide by the result, whatever it may be."

"May I ask a few questions?" Maud timidly inquired.

He turned to her with an air of relief.

"Most certainly you may, Miss Stanton."

"And you will answer them?"

"I pledge myself to do so, if I am able."

"Thank you," she said. "I am not going to interfere with Mr. Colby's plans, but I'd like to help you on my own account, if I may."

He gave her a quick look, at once grateful, suspicious and amused. Then he said:

"Clear out, Colby. I'm sure you have a hundred things to attend to, and when you're gone I'll have a little talk with Miss Stanton."

The lawyer hesitated.

"If this conversation is likely to affect your case," he began, "then—"

"Then Miss Stanton will give you any information she may acquire," interrupted Jones, and that left Colby no alternative but to go away.

"Now, then, Miss Stanton, out with it!" said the boy.

"There are a lot of things we don't know, but ought to know, in order to defend you properly," she observed, looking at him earnestly.

"Question me, then."

"I want to know the exact date when you landed in this country from Sangoa."

"Let me see. It was the twelfth day of October, of last year."

"Oh! so long ago as that? It is fifteen months. Once you told us that you had been here about a year."

"I didn't stop to count the months, you see. The twelfth of October is correct."

"Where did you land?"

"At San Francisco."

"Direct from Sangoa?"

"Direct from Sangoa."

"And what brought you from Sangoa to San Francisco?"

"A boat."

"A sailing-ship?"

"No, a large yacht. Two thousand tons burden."

"Whose yacht was it?"

"Mine."

"Then where is it now?"

He reflected a moment.

"I think Captain Carg must be anchored at San Pedro, by now. Or perhaps he is at Long Beach, or Santa Monica," he said quietly.

"On this coast!" exclaimed Maud.

"Yes."

Patsy was all excitement by now and could no longer hold her tongue.

"Is the yacht Arabella yours?" she demanded.

"It is, Miss Patsy."

"Then it is lying off Santa Monica Bay. I've seen it!" she cried.

"It was named for my mother," said the boy, his voice softening, "and built by my father. In the Arabella I made my first voyage; so you will realize I am very fond of the little craft."

Maud was busily thinking.

"Is Captain Carg a Sangoan?" she asked.

"Of course. The entire crew are Sangoans."

"Then where has the yacht been since it landed you here fifteen months ago?"

"It returned at once to the island, and at my request has now made another voyage to America."

"It has been here several days."

"Quite likely."

"Has it brought more pearls from Sangoa?"

"Perhaps. I do not know, for I have not yet asked for the captain's report."

Both Uncle John and Patsy were amazed at the rapidity with which Maud was acquiring information of a really important character. Indeed, she was herself surprised and the boy's answers were already clearing away some of the mists. She stared at him thoughtfully as she considered her next question, and Jones seemed to grow thoughtful, too.

"I have no desire to worry my friends over my peculiar difficulties," he presently said. "Frankly, I am not in the least worried myself. The charge against me is so preposterous that I am sure to be released after the judge has examined me; and, even at the worst—if I were sent to Vienna for trial—the Austrians would know very well that I am not the man they seek."

"That trip would cause you great inconvenience, however," suggested Mr. Merrick.

"I am told a prisoner is treated very well, if he is willing to pay for such consideration," said Jones.

"And your good name?" asked Maud, with a touch of impatience.

"My good name is precious only to me, and I know it is still untarnished. For your sake, my newly found friends, I would like the world to believe in me, but there is none save you to suffer through my disgrace, and you may easily ignore my acquaintance."

"What nonsense!" cried Patsy, scornfully. "Tell me, sir, what's to become of our grand motion picture enterprise, if you allow yourself to be shipped to Vienna as a captured thief?"

He winced a trifle at the blunt epithet but quickly recovered and smiled at her.

"I'm sorry, Miss Patsy," said he. "I know you will be disappointed if our enterprise is abandoned. So will I. Since this latest complication arose I fear I have not given our project the consideration it deserves."

The boy passed his hand wearily across his forehead and, rising from his seat, took a few nervous steps up and down the room. Then, pausing, he asked abruptly:

"Are you still inclined to be my champion, Miss Stanton?"

"If I can be of any help," she replied, simply.

"Then I wish you would visit the yacht, make the acquaintance of Captain Carg and tell him of the trouble I am in. Will you?" "With pleasure. That is—I'll be glad to do your errand."

"I'll give you a letter to him," he continued, and turning to the attendant he asked for writing material, which was promptly furnished him. At the table he wrote a brief note and enclosed it in an envelope which he handed to Maud.

"You will find the captain a splendid old fellow," said he.

"Will he answer any questions I may ask him?" she demanded.

"That will depend upon your questions," he answered evasively. "Carg is considered a bit taciturn, I believe, but he has my best interests at heart and you will find him ready to serve me in any possible way."

"Is there any objection to my going with Maud?" asked Patsy. "I'd like to visit that yacht; it looks so beautiful from a distance."

"You may all go, if you wish," said he. "It might be well for Mr. Merrick to meet Captain Carg, who would prefer, I am sure, to discuss so delicate a matter as my arrest with a man. Not that he is ungallant, but with a man such as Mr. Merrick he would be more at his ease. Carg is a sailor, rather blunt and rugged, both in speech and demeanor, but wholly devoted to me because I am at present the Jones of Sangoa."

"I'll accompany the girls, of course," said Uncle John; "and I think we ought not to delay in seeing your man. Colby says you may be called for examination at any time."

"There is one more question I want to ask," announced Maud as they rose to go. "On what date did you reach New York, after landing at San Francisco?"

"Why, it must have been some time in last January. I know it was soon after Christmas, which I passed in Chicago."

"Is that as near as you can recollect the date?"

"Yes, at short notice."

"Then perhaps you can tell me the date you took possession of the Continental Film Company by entering the stockholders' meeting and ejecting yourself president?"

He seemed surprised at her information and the question drew from him an odd laugh.

"How did you learn about that incident?" he asked.

"Goldstein told Mr. Merrick. He said it was a coup d'etat."

The boy laughed again.

"It was really funny," said he. "Old Bingley, the last president, had no inkling that I controlled the stock. He was so sure of being reëlected that he had a camera-man on hand to make a motion picture of the scene where all would hail him as the chief. The picture was taken, but it didn't interest Bingley any, for it showed the consternation on his face, and the faces of his favored coterie, when I rose and calmly voted him out of office with the majority of the stock."

"Oh!" exclaimed Maud. "There was a picture made of that scene, then?"

"To be sure. It was never shown but once to an audience of one. I sat and chuckled to myself while the film was being run."

"Was it kept, or destroyed?" asked the girl, breathlessly.

"I ordered it preserved amongst our archives. Probably Goldstein now has the negative out here, stored in our Hollywood vaults."

"And the date—when was it?" she demanded.

"Why, the annual meeting is always the last Thursday in January. Figure it out—it must have been the twenty-sixth. But is the exact date important, Miss Stanton?"

"Very," she announced. "I don't know yet the exact date that Andrews landed in New York on his return from Vienna, but if it happened to be later than the twenty-sixth of January—"

"I see. In that case the picture will clear me of suspicion."

"Precisely. I shall now go and wire New York for the information I need."

"Can't you get it of Le Drieux?" asked the young man.

"Perhaps so; I'll try. But it will be better to get the date from the steamship agent direct."

With this they shook the boy's hand, assuring him of their sympathy and their keen desire to aid him, and then hurried away from the jail.

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 21


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 22

Uncle John and the girls, after consulting together, decided to stop at the Hollywood studio and pick up Flo and Mrs. Montrose.

"It would be a shame to visit that lovely yacht without them," said Patsy; "and we were all invited, you know."

"Yes, invited by a host who is unavoidably detained elsewhere," added Uncle John.

"Still, that yacht is very exclusive," his niece stated, "and I'm sure we are the first Americans to step foot on its decks."

They were all in a brighter mood since the interview at the jail, and after a hurried lunch at the hotel, during which Maud related to the others the morning's occurrences, they boarded the big Merrick seven-passenger automobile and drove to Santa Monica Bay. Louise couldn't leave the baby, who was cutting teeth, but Arthur and Beth joined the party and on arrival at the beach Uncle John had no difficulty in securing a launch to take them out to the Arabella.

"They won't let you aboard, though," declared the boatman. "A good many have tried it, an' come back disjointed. There's something queer about that craft; but the gov'ment don't seem worried, so I guess it ain't a pirate."

The beauty of the yacht grew on them as they approached it. It was painted a pure white in every part and on the stern was the one word: Arabella, but no name of the port from which she hailed. The ladder was hoisted and fastened to an upper rail, but as they drew up to the smooth sides a close-cropped bullet-head projected from the bulwarks and a gruff voice demanded:

"Well, what's wanted?"

"We want to see Captain Carg," called Arthur, in reply.

The head wagged sidewise.

"No one allowed aboard," said the man.

"Here's a letter to the captain, from Mr. Jones," said Maud, exhibiting it.

The word seemed magical. Immediately the head disappeared and an instant later the boarding ladder began to descend. But the man, a sub-officer dressed in a neat uniform of white and gold, came quickly down the steps and held out his hand for the letter.

"Beg pardon," said he, touching his cap to the ladies, "but the rules are very strict aboard the Arabella. Will you please wait until I've taken this to the captain? Thank you!"

Then he ran lightly up the steps and they remained seated in the launch until he returned.

"The captain begs you to come aboard," he then said, speaking very respectfully but with a face that betrayed his wonder at the order of his superior. Then he escorted them up the side to the deck, which was marvelously neat and attractive. Some half a dozen sailors lounged here and there and these stared as wonderingly at the invasion of strangers as the subaltern had done. But their guide did not pause longer than to see that they had all reached the deck safely, when he led them into a spacious cabin.

Here they faced Captain Carg, whom Patsy afterward declared was the tallest, thinnest, chilliest man she had ever encountered. His hair was grizzled and hung low on his neck; his chin was very long and ended in a point; his nose was broad, with sensitive nostrils that marked every breath he drew. As for his eyes, which instantly attracted attention, they were brown and gentle as a girl's but had that retrospective expression that suggests far-away thoughts or an utter lack of interest in one's surroundings. They never looked at but through one. The effect of Carg's eyes was distinctly disconcerting.

The commander of the Arabella bowed with much dignity as his guests entered and with a sweep of his long arm he muttered in distant tones: "Pray be seated." They obeyed. The cabin was luxuriously furnished and there was no lack of comfortable chairs.

Somehow, despite the courteous words and attitude of Captain Carg, there was something about him that repelled confidence. Already Maud and Patsy were wondering if such a man could be loyal and true.

"My young master," he was saying, as he glanced at the letter he still held in his hand, "tells me that any questions you may ask I may answer as freely as I am permitted to."

"What does that mean, sir?" Maud inquired, for the speech was quite ambiguous.

"That I await your queries, Miss," with another perfunctory bow in her direction.

She hesitated, puzzled how to proceed.

"Mr. Jones is in a little trouble," she finally began. "He has been mistaken for some other man and—they have put him in jail until he can be examined by the federal judge of this district."

The captain's face exhibited no expression whatever. Even the eyes failed to express surprise at her startling news. He faced his visitors without emotion.

"At the examination," Maud went on, "it will be necessary for him to prove he is from Sangoa."

No reply. The captain sat like a statue.

"He must also prove that certain pearls found in his possession came from Sangoa."

Still no reply. Maud began to falter and fidget. Beth was amused. Patsy was fast growing indignant. Flo had a queer expression on her pretty face that denoted mischief to such an extent that it alarmed her Aunt Jane.

"I'm afraid," said Maud, "that unless you come to your master's assistance, Captain Carg, he will be sent to Austria, a prisoner charged with a serious crime."

She meant this assertion to be very impressive, but it did not seem to affect the man in the least. She sighed, and Flo, with a giggle, broke an awkward pause.

"Well, why don't you get busy. Maud?" she asked.

"I—in what way, Flo?" asked her sister, catching at the suggestion implied.

"Captain Carg would make a splendid motion picture actor," declared the younger Miss Stanton, audaciously. "He sticks close to his cues, you see, and won't move till he gets one. He will answer your questions; yes, he has said he would; but you may prattle until doomsday without effect, so far as he is concerned, unless you finish your speech with an interrogation point."

Mrs. Montrose gave a gasp of dismay, while Maud flushed painfully. The captain, however, allowed a gleam of admiration to soften his grim features as he stared fixedly at saucy Flo. Patsy marked this fleeting change of expression at once and said hastily:

"I think. Maud, dear, the captain is waiting to be questioned."

At this he cast a grateful look in Miss Doyle's direction and bowed to her. Maud began to appreciate the peculiar situation and marshalled her questions in orderly array.

"Tell me, please, where is Sangoa?" she began.

"In the South Seas, Miss."

"Will you give me the latitude and longitude?"

"I cannot."

"Oh, you mean that you will not?"

"I have been commanded to forget the latitude and longitude of Sangoa."

"But this is folly!" she exclaimed, much annoyed. "Such absurd reticence may be fatal to Mr. Jones' interests."

He made no reply to this and after reflection she tried again.

"What is the nearest land to Sangoa?"

"Toerdal," said he.

"What is that, an island?"

"Yes."

"Is it on the maps? Is it charted?"

"No, Miss."

She silenced Flo's aggravating giggle with a frown.

"Tell me, sir," she continued, "what is the nearest land to Sangoa that is known to the world?"

He smiled faintly as he replied: "I cannot tell."

Uncle John had grown very uneasy by this time and he decided he ought to attempt to assist Maud. So, addressing Captain Carg, he said in a positive tone:

"We quite understand, sir, that it has been the policy of the owners of Sangoa to guard all knowledge of the island's whereabouts from the outside world, as well as the fact that its pearl fisheries are very rich. We understand that an influx of treasure-seekers would embarrass the Sangoans. But we are close friends of young Mr. Jones and have no desire to usurp his island kingdom or seize his pearls. Our only anxiety is to free him from an unjust suspicion. A foolish man named Le Drieux accuses Jones of stealing a choice collection of pearls from a lady in Austria and fleeing with them to America. He has a photograph of the real criminal, taken abroad, which curiously resembles your young master."

Here the captain turned a quick look upon the speaker and for the first time his eyes lost their dull expression. But he made no remark and Uncle John continued:

"This man Le Drieux found several choice pearls in the possession of Mr. Jones, which he claims are a part of the stolen collection. Hence he obtained your master's arrest. Jones says he brought the pearls from Sangoa, his home, where they were found. No one here knows anything of Sangoa, so they regard his story with suspicion. Now, sir, we believe that through you we can prove he has told the truth, and so secure his release. Here is the important question: Will you help us?"

"Willingly, sir," replied the captain.

"Are you forbidden to tell us where Sangoa is, or anything about the island?"

"Yes, sir; I am forbidden to do that, under any circumstances," was the ready answer.

"Have you been to Sangoa since you landed Mr. Jones in San Francisco, some fifteen months ago?"

"Yes, sir."

"And did you bring back with you, on this trip, any pearls?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you already disposed of them?"

"No, sir."

"Why not?"

"I am awaiting orders from my master."

"Has he been aboard since you anchored here?"

"No, sir."

"What were your instructions?"

"To anchor on this coast and await his coming."

"Well," said Mr. Merrick, reflectively, "I believe you can prove our case without telling the location of Sangoa. An exhibition of the pearls you have brought ought to convince any reasonable judge. Are there many of them in this lot?"

"Not so many as usual, sir."

"Are they very choice ones?"

"Not so choice as usual, sir."

Uncle John was greatly disappointed, but Maud exclaimed eagerly:

"Let us see them, please!"

That was not a question, but the captain rose at once, bowed and left the cabin. It was some ten minutes before he returned, followed by two men who bore between them a heavy bronze chest which they placed upon the cabin floor. Then they left the room and the captain took a key from his pocket and unlocked a secret panel in the wainscoting of the cabin. A small compartment was disclosed, in which hung another key on an iron hook. He removed this and with it unlocked the chest, drawing-from its recesses several trays which he deposited upon the table. These trays were lined and padded with white velvet and when the covers were removed, the girls, who had crowded around the table, uttered cries of astonishment and delight.

"They may not be as numerous or as choice 'as usual,'" murmured Mrs. Montrose, "but they are the most amazing lot of pearls I have ever beheld."

"And did all these come from Sangoa?" Maud asked the captain.

"They represent two months' fishing on the coast of our island," he replied; "but not the best two months of the year. The weather was bad; there were many storms."

"Why, the pearls that Ajo gave us were insignificant when compared with these!" cried Beth. "This collection must be worth an enormous sum. Uncle John."

Uncle John merely nodded. He had been thinking, as he studied the pearls, and now turned to Captain Carg.

"Will you come ashore and testify before the judge in behalf of your master?"

"Yes, if he asks me to do so."

"And will you bring these pearls with you?"

"If my master orders it."

"Very good. We will have him send you instructions."

The captain bowed, after which he turned to the table and began replacing the trays in the chest. Then he locked it, again hung the key in the secret aperture and closed the panel. A whistle summoned the two seamen, who bore away the chest, accompanied by the captain in person.

When they were left alone, Maud said anxiously:

"Is there anything more we can do here?"

"I think not," replied Mr. Merrick.

"Then let us get back. I want to complete my evidence at once, for no one knows when the judge will summon Ajo for examination."

They thanked the captain when he rejoined them, but he remained as silent and undemonstrative as ever, so they took their departure without further ceremony and returned to the shore.

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 22


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 23

That evening Le Drieux appeared in the lobby of the hotel and sat himself comfortably down, as if his sole desire in life was to read the evening paper and smoke his after-dinner cigar. He cast a self-satisfied and rather supercilious glance in the direction of the Merrick party, which on this occasion included the Stantons and their aunt, but he made no attempt to approach the corner where they were seated.

Maud, however, as soon as she saw Le Drieux, asked Arthur Weldon to interview the man and endeavor to obtain from him the exact date when Jack Andrews landed in New York. Uncle John had already wired to Major Doyle, Patsy's father, to get the steamship lists and find which boat Andrews had come on and the date of its arrival, but no answer had as yet been received.

Arthur made a pretext of buying a cigar at the counter and then strolled aimlessly about until he came, as if by chance, near to where Le Drieux was sitting. Making a pretense of suddenly observing the man, he remarked casually:

"Ah, good evening."

"Good evening, Mr. Weldon," replied Le Drieux, a note of ill-suppressed triumph in his voice.

"I suppose you are now content to rest on your laurels, pending the formal examination?" said Arthur.

"I am, sir. But the examination is a mere form, you know. I have already cabled the commissioner of police at Vienna and received a reply stating that the Austrian ambassador would make a prompt demand for extradition and the papers would be forwarded from Washington to the Austrian consul located in this city. The consul has also been instructed to render me aid in transporting the prisoner to Vienna. All this will require several days' time, so you see we are in no hurry to conclude the examination."

"I see." said Arthur. "Is it, then, your intention to accompany the prisoner to Vienna?"

"Of course. I have not mentioned the fact to you before, but I hold a commission from the Chief of Police of Vienna authorizing me to arrest Jack Andrews wherever I may find him, and deliver him up for trial. My firm procured for me this commission, as they are very anxious to recover the lost pearls."

"Why?"

"Well, to be frank, sir, the countess still owes our firm a large sum for purchases. She had almost her entire fortune tied up in that collection, and unless it is recovered—."

"I can well appreciate the anxiety of your firm. But aside from that, Mr. Le Drieux, I suppose a big reward has been offered?"

"Not big; just a fair amount. It will repay me, quite handsomely, for my trouble in this affair; but, of course, my firm gets half of the reward."

"They are not too generous. You deserve it all."

"Thank you. It has been an interesting episode, Mr. Weldon."

"It has been more than that. I consider this escapade of Andrews quite a romance; or is it more of a tragedy, in your opinion?"

"It will be a tragedy for Andrews, before he's through with it," replied Le Drieux grimly. "They're pretty severe on the long-fingered gentry, over there in Europe, and you must remember that if the fellow lives through the sentence they will undoubtedly impose upon him in Vienna, he has still to answer for the Paris robbery and the London murder. It's all up with Andrews, I guess; and it's a good thing, too, for he is too clever to remain at large."

"I do not consider him so clever as his captor," said Arthur smoothly. "It did not take you long to discover where he had hidden. Why, he has only returned to America about fifteen months ago."

"Eleven months ago—even less than that, I think," retorted Le Drieux, with much pride. "Let me see," taking out a notebook, "Andrews landed from the Princess Irene on the twenty-seventh of January last."

"Oh, the twenty-seventh? Are you sure of that?" said Arthur.

"Of course."

"I was under the impression he landed on the twenty-fifth."

"No; you are wrong. Why, I met the boat myself, but missed him, although he was on the passenger list. He disembarked very slyly, I afterward learned, being doubtless afraid he would be arrested. But at that time I had no positive evidence against him."

Arthur asked a few more questions of no importance and then bade Le Drieux good night and rejoined the girls.

"You win, Maud," he remarked as he sat down. "That clew of yours was an inspiration. Andrews arrived in America on January twenty-seventh, just one day after Jones had a motion picture of himself taken at the stockholders' meeting of the Continental Film Company."

"Then we needn't worry over Ajo any longer!" asserted Patsy joyfully. "With this evidence and the testimony of Captain Carg and his pearls, the most stupid judge on earth would declare the boy innocent. Why, Beth, we shall get our theatres built, after all!"

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 23


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 24

"Well, where have you been?" demanded Goldstein gruffly, as Maud Stanton entered his office the next morning in response to a summons from the Continental manager. "What made you run away yesterday? Don't you know such things make us lots of trouble and cost us money?"

"I'm not worrying about that," replied Maud, as she composedly sat down opposite the manager.

Goldstein glared at her, but he was cautious.

"You're a fine actress, Miss Stanton, and you're popular on the films," he said, "but if you cannot attend to business we are paying you too much money."

"Indeed!"

"No other firm could afford to give you so much, you know that; and the only reason we are so extravagant is because you are one of our features."

"Am I to take this as a dismissal?" she asked carelessly.

"Dismissal!" he cried, holding up his hands. "Of course not. Who is talking of dismissal? But I owe a duty to my firm. Such actions as yours, in running away from rehearsals, must have a—a—reprimand. Not severe; I am not so angry as grieved; but a reprimand is your due—and that fly-away sister of yours is just as bad."

"We went to assist your president—Mr. Jones—to establish his innocence of the awful charge made against him," she explained.

"Bah. You can't do that. No one can save him," he replied, with triumph and satisfaction mingled in his tone.

She looked at him thoughtfully.

"You seem pleased with the idea that he is guilty, Mr. Goldstein."

"I am glad he is caught. What is Jones to me? An interloper! A boy who gets money, buys stock, and then interferes with a business he knows nothing about. You are a professional, Miss Stanton. You know how we, who are in the game, have won our knowledge of it by long experience, by careful study, by keeping the thousand threads of the rope of success twisted tightly together. Any fool could buy this business, but only an expert could run it successfully. You know that. So I am glad this interfering boy is wiped off the slate forever."

"But he isn't!" she protested. "You still have this boy to reckon with, Goldstein. When he is examined by the judge he will be set free, for all the evidence is in his favor and there is ample proof that he is not the man they are after. And that reminds me. There is a negative here that was made at the directors' meeting in January, a year ago, which shows Mr. Jones taking control of the Continental."

"I have never seen it," he said, shaking his head.

"It is here, though, and I want a positive printed at once, and mounted on a reel, so it can be exhibited before the judge. Have Alfred get it out of the vault."

"Why should I do that?" he inquired, frowning.

"Because, if you refuse, Mr. Jones is quite likely to find another manager. No other firm would pay you so much as you are getting here. You know that."

He grinned with delight at the thrust, then grew solemn.

"You are sure he will go free?"

"Positive," returned Maud. "He doesn't really need that film, but it would be good policy—excellent policy—for you to produce it."

"Alfred!" called the manager. "Bring me the stock book."

He ran his finger down the pages.

"January—eh—eh—"

"January twenty-sixth," she said.

"Here it is: 'Special of Annual Meeting, C.F.M. Co.—280 feet.—No. 19,' Get number nineteen out of the vault, Alfred."

While the young man was gone he relapsed into thought. Maud waited patiently.

"You see," resumed the manager abruptly, "I am making more money for the Continental than I get paid for. That is because I know how. It is not good business to cut down the profits; therefore I should be paid a bigger salary. Miss Stanton, you're a friend of young Jones, who controls this company. You might talk to him about me."

"I will," she said.

"You might say I know every trick of the trade. Tell Jones how all the other film makers are crazy to get me. But say how I refuse more money because I believe our directors will wake up to my value and raise my salary. That sounds pretty good, eh?"

"It sounds remarkable."

"And it's no dream. Ah, here comes Alfred."

The clerk laid upon the table a round box coated with paraffin to exclude the air. A tag was attached to the box, describing its contents.

"Number nineteen. Quite right. Take it to the printing room and tell McDonald to make me a copy as quickly as possible. Tell him to let me know when it's dry and ready to run."

As the clerk disappeared Maud said:

"I needn't wait, I suppose?"

"No. Werner wants you at the rehearsal of 'The Love of a Princess.' Before you go home to-night I'll call you in to see the run of number nineteen. Then you may take the film to Jones—with my compliments."

At five o'clock, when she was dressing to go home, Maud was summoned to the little "dark room" where all films are exhibited, trimmed and tested before being sent out. She took Aunt Jane and Flo with her and they found Goldstein already waiting and the operator standing by his machine.

The scene was short and not very exciting, although of interest in the present crisis. It showed the interior of the hall where the stock-holders' meeting was held, and began with the assembling of the members. Two or three pompous individuals then seated themselves facing the others, and the proceedings began. A slim boy on a back bench arose and said something. Panic was at once written on the faces of the former officers. They gesticulated; their lips moved rapidly. The boy, easily recognized as A. Jones, advanced and displayed a lot of papers, which were carefully examined. He then took the president's chair, the former officers fled in disgust and the throng of stockholders wildly applauded. Then the light went out, the machine stopped, and Goldstein opened the door to let in light and air.

"It was the same kid, all right," he remarked. "I had never seen this film run before, but it shows how Jones called the turn on the old officers in great shape. I wonder where he got all the money?"

Maud secured his promise to send an operator to town, to exhibit the film before the judge, whenever he might be required. Then she went to her hotel fully satisfied that she had done all in her power to assist A. Jones of Sangoa.

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 24


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 25

A telegram from Major Doyle corroborated Le Drieux's assertion that Jack Andrews had arrived at the port of New York via the Princess Irene on January twenty-seventh. A report from Lawyer Colby stated that he was now so thoroughly posted on everything pertaining to pearls that he could easily confound the expert, Mr. Isidore Le Drieux. There the matter rested for three days, during which the Stanton girls continued their work at the studio and Uncle John's nieces busied themselves enjoying the charms of the ideal Hollywood climate. Then came the news that the judge would call Jones for examination at nine o'clock on Friday morning, the thirteenth.

"Friday, the thirteenth!" said Patsy with a grimace. "I hope Ajo isn't superstitious."

"That combination proves lucky for some people," replied Arthur, laughing. "Let us hope that Jones is one of them."

"Of course we shall all go to see what happens," said Beth, and to this there was no dissenting voice.

Maud obtained a letter from Jones to Captain Carg, asking him to be on hand, and this she dispatched by a safe messenger to the yacht Arabella. She also told Goldstein to have his operator in attendance with the film. Finally, a conference was called that evening with Mr. Colby, at which the complete program of defense was carefully rehearsed.

"Really," said the lawyer, "there's nothing to this case. It's a regular walkaway, believe me! I'm almost ashamed to take Mr. Jones' money for conducting a case that Miss Stanton has all cut and dried for me. I'll not receive one half the credit I should had the thing been complicated, or difficult. However, I've learned so much about pearls that I'm almost tempted to go into the jewelry business."

Friday morning was bright and cool—one of those perfect days for which Southern California is famous. Judge Wilton appeared in court with a tranquil expression upon his face that proved he was in a contented mood. All conditions augured well for the prisoner.

The prosecution was represented by two well known attorneys who had brought a dozen witnesses to support their charge, among them being the Austrian consul. The case opened with the statement that the prisoner, Jackson Dowd Andrews, alias A. Jones, while a guest at the villa of the Countess Ahmberg, near Vienna, had stolen from his hostess a valuable collection of pearls, which he had secretly brought to America. Some of the stolen booty the prisoner had disposed of, it was asserted; a part had been found in his possession at the time of his arrest; some of the pearls had been mounted by Brock & Co., the Los Angeles jewelers, at his request, and by him presented to several acquaintances he had recently made but who were innocent of any knowledge of his past history or his misdeeds. Therefore the prosecution demanded that the prisoner be kept in custody until the arrival of extradition papers, which were already on the way, and that on the arrival of these papers Andrews should be turned over to Le Drieux, a representative of the Vienna police, and by him taken to Austria, the scene of his crime, for trial and punishment.

The judge followed the charge of the prosecution rather indifferently, being already familiar with it. Then he asked if there was any defense.

Colby took the floor. He denied that the prisoner was Jackson Dowd Andrews, or that he had ever been in Vienna. It was a case of mistaken identity. His client's liberty had been outraged by the stupid blunders of the prosecution. He demanded the immediate release of the prisoner.

"Have you evidence to support this plea?" inquired Judge Wilton.

"We have, your honor. But the prosecution must first prove its charge."

The prosecution promptly responded to the challenge. The photograph of Andrews, taken abroad, was shown. Two recognized experts in physiognomy declared, after comparison, that it was undoubtedly the photograph of the prisoner. Then Le Drieux took the stand. He read a newspaper account of the robbery. He produced a list of the pearls, attested by the countess herself. Each individual pearl was described and its color, weight and value given. Then Le Drieux exhibited the pearls taken from Jones and, except for the small ones in the brooch which had been presented to Mrs. Montrose, he checked off every pearl against his list, weighing them before the judge and describing their color.

During this, Judge Wilton continually nodded approval. Such evidence was concise and indisputable, it seemed. Moreover, the defense readily admitted that the pearls exhibited had all been in Jones' possession.

Then Colby got up to refute the evidence.

"Mr. Jones," he began, "has—"

"Give the prisoner's full name," said the judge.

"His full name is A. Jones."

"What does the 'A' stand for?"

"It is only an initial, your honor. Mr. Jones has no other name."

"Puh! He ought to have taken some other name. Names are cheap," sneered the judge.

Colby ignored the point.

"Mr. Jones is a resident of Sangoa, where he was born. Until he landed at San Francisco, fifteen months ago, he had never set foot on any land but that of his native island."

"Where is Sangoa?" demanded the judge.

"It is an island of the South Seas."

"What nationality?"

"It is independent. It was purchased from Uruguay by Mr. Jones' father many years ago, and now belongs exclusively to his son."

"Your information is indefinite," snapped the judge.

"I realize that, your honor; but my client deems it wise to keep the location of his island a secret, because he has valuable pearl fisheries on its shores. The pearls exhibited by the prosecution were all found at Sangoa."

"How do you account, then, for their checking so accurately against the list of stolen pearls?"

"I can make almost any pearls check with that list, which represents a huge collection of almost every size, weight and color," replied Colby. "To prove this, I will introduce in evidence Captain Carg of Sangoa, who recently arrived at Santa Monica Bay with the last proceeds of the pearl fisheries of the island."

Captain Carg was on hand, with his two sailors guarding the chest. He now produced the trays of pearls and spread them on the desk before the amazed eyes of the judge. Le Drieux was astounded, and showed it plainly on his face.

Colby now borrowed the list, and picking up a pearl from the tray weighed it on Le Drieux's scales and then found a parallel to it on the list. This he did with several of the pearls, chosen at random, until one of Le Drieux's attorneys took the expert aside and whispered to him. Then Le Drieux's expression changed from chagrin to joy and coming forward he exclaimed:

"Your honor, this is the collection—the balance of it—which was stolen from the Countess Ahmberg!"

The judge looked at him a moment, leaned back in his chair and nodded his head impressively.

"What nonsense!" protested Colby. "These trays contain twice the number of pearls included in that entire list, as your honor may plainly see."

"Of course," retorted Le Drieux eagerly; "here are also the pearls from the necklace of Princess Lemoine, and the London collection of Lady Grandison. Your honor, in his audacity the defense has furnished us proof positive that this prisoner can be none other than the adventurer and clever thief, Jack Andrews."

It was in vain that Colby declared these pearls had just come from Sangoa, where they were found. The judge cut him short and asked if he had any other evidence to advance.

"These pearls," he added, indicating the trays, "I shall take possession of. They must remain in my custody until their owners claim them, or Captain Carg can prove they are the lawful property of the prisoner."

Consternation now pervaded the ranks of the defense. The girls were absolutely dismayed, while Uncle John and Arthur Weldon wore bewildered looks. Only Jones remained composed, an amused smile curling the corners of his delicate mouth as he eyed the judge who was to decide his fate.

On the side of the prosecution were looks of triumph. Le Drieux already regarded his case as won.

Colby now played his trump card, which Maud Stanton's logic and energy had supplied the defense.

"The prosecution," said he, "has stated that the alleged robbery was committed at Vienna on the evening of September fifteenth, and that Jack Andrews arrived in America on the steamship Princess Irene on the afternoon of the January twenty-seventh following. Am I correct in those dates?"

The judge consulted his stenographer.

"The dates mentioned are correct," he said pompously.

"Here are the papers issued by the Commander of the Port of San Francisco, proving that the yacht Arabella of Sangoa anchored in that harbor on October twelfth, and disembarked one passenger, namely: A. Jones of Sangoa."

"That might, or might not, have been the prisoner," declared the prosecuting attorney.

"True," said the judge. "The name 'A. Jones' is neither distinguished nor distinguishing."

"On the evening of January twenty-sixth, twenty-four hours before Jack Andrews landed in America," continued Colby, "the prisoner, Mr. A. Jones, appeared at the annual meeting of the stockholders of the Continental Film Manufacturing Company, in New York, and was formally elected president of that organization."

"What is your proof?" inquired the judge, stifling a yawn.

"I beg to submit the minutes of the meeting, attested by its secretary."

The judge glanced at the minutes.

"We object to this evidence," said the opposing attorney. "There is no proof that the A. Jones referred to is the prisoner."

"The minutes," said Colby, "state that a motion picture was taken of the meeting. I have the film here, in this room, and beg permission to exhibit it before your honor as evidence."

The judge was a bit startled at so novel a suggestion but assented with a nod. In a twinkling the operator had suspended a roller-screen from the chandelier dependent from the ceiling, pulled down the window shades and attached his projecting machine to an electric-light socket.

Then the picture flashed upon the screen. It was not entirely distinct, because the room could not be fully darkened and the current was not strong, yet every face in the gathering of stockholders could be plainly recognized. Jones, especially, as the central figure, could not be mistaken and no one who looked upon the picture could doubt his identity.

When the exhibition was concluded and the room again lightened, Le Drieux's face was visibly perturbed and anxious, while his attorneys sat glum and disconcerted.

Colby now put Goldstein on the stand, who testified that he recognized Jones as president of his company and the owner of the majority of stock. The young man had come to him with unimpeachable credentials to that effect.

The girls were now smiling and cheerful. To them the defense was absolutely convincing. But Le Drieux's attorneys were skillful fighters and did not relish defeat. They advanced the theory that the motion picture, just shown, had been made at a later date and substituted for the one mentioned in the minutes of the meeting. They questioned Goldstein, who admitted that he had never seen Jones until a few days previous. The manager denied, however, any substitution of the picture. He was not a very satisfactory witness for the defense and Colby was sorry he had summoned him.

As for the judge, he seemed to accept the idea of the substitution with alacrity. He had practically decided against Jones in the matter of the pearls. Now he listened carefully to the arguments of the prosecution and cut Colby short when he raised objections to their sophistry.

Finally Judge Wilton rose to state his decision.

"The evidence submitted in proof of the alleged fact that the prisoner is Jack Andrews, and that Jack Andrews may have robbed the Countess Ahmberg, of Vienna, of her valuable collection of pearls, is in the judgment of this court clear and convincing," he said. "The lawyer for the defense has further succeeded in entangling his client by exhibiting an additional assortment of pearls, which may likewise be stolen property. The attempt to impose upon this court a mythical island called Sangoa is—eh—distinctly reprehensible. This court is not so easily hoodwinked. Therefore, in consideration of the evidence advanced, I declare that the prisoner is Jack Andrews, otherwise Jackson Dowd Andrews, otherwise parading under the alias of 'A. Jones,' and I recognize the claim of the Austrian police to his person, that he may be legally tried for his alleged crimes in the territory where it is alleged he committed them. Therefore I order that the prisoner be held for requisition and turned over to the proper authorities when the papers arrive. The court is adjourned."

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 25


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 26

Of course not one of our friends agreed with the judge. Indignation and resentment were written on every face—except that of Goldstein. The manager rubbed his hands softly together and, approaching Maud, he whispered:

"You needn't speak to Jones about me. It's all right. I guess he won't be interfering with me any more, eh? And come early to-morrow morning. We've got a lot of rehearsing to do. To-day I will call a holiday for you. And, believe me, Miss Stanton, this is nothing to worry any of us. The judge settles it, right or wrong, for the law defies us all."

As the manager hurried away Uncle John looked after him and said:

"I wonder if he realizes how true his words are? 'The law defies us all.' How helpless we are to oppose injustice and oppression when one man, with a man's limitations and prejudices, is clothed with authority to condemn us!"

Colby stood silent. The poor fellow's eyes were full of unshed tears.

"This is my first case, and my last," said he. "I won it honestly. It was the judge, not the evidence, that defeated me. I'm going to rent my office and apply for a job as a chauffeur."

Jones was the least affected of the group. "Never mind, friends," he said to them, "it will all come right in the end. If you will stand by me, Colby, I'll retain you to plead my case in the Austrian court, or at least advise my Austrian lawyers. I've an idea they will treat me fairly, over there in Vienna."

"It's outrageous!" quoth indignant Patsy Doyle. "I'd like to give that judge a piece of my mind."

"If you did," replied Arthur, "he'd fine you for contempt."

"It would be a just line, in that case," said Patsy; "so I'm sure he wouldn't do it."

The jailer had come to take the prisoner back to his cell. He smiled whimsically at Miss Doyle's speech and remarked:

"There's always one side to kick, Miss, whichever way the judge decides. It was only Solomon who could satisfy everybody."

"Clear the room!" shouted the bailiff.

Captain Carg's men took the empty chest back to the launch. The captain followed them, after pressing the hand of his young master, who said: "Wait for orders, Captain." Uncle John took his flock back to the hotel, where they gathered in his room and held an indignation meeting. Here it was safe to give full vent to their chagrin and disappointment.

"Every bit of honest evidence was on our side," declared Maud. "I shall never be able to understand why we lost."

"Bribery and corruption," said Flo. "I'll bet a cookie Le Drieux divided the reward with the judge."

"I suppose it's all up with Ajo now," sighed Beth, regretfully.

"Yes," replied Colby, who had accompanied them; "there is nothing more to be done for him at present. From the judge's order there is no appeal, in such a case. Mr. Jones must go to Vienna for trial; but there he may secure an acquittal."

"He is very brave, I think," said Patsy. "This affair must have hurt his pride, but he smiles through it all. In his condition of health, the confinement and humiliation may well shorten his life, yet he has made no murmur."

"He's good stuff, that boy," commented Uncle John. "Perhaps it is due to that John Paul blood his father was so proud of."

When Arthur went into the lobby a little later he found Le Drieux seated comfortably and smoking a long cigar. The pearl expert nodded to the young ranchman with so much evident satisfaction that Arthur could not resist engaging him in conversation.

"Well, you won," he remarked, taking a vacant chair beside Le Drieux.

"Yes, of course," was the reply; "but I'll admit that fellow Andrews is a smooth one. Why, at one time he had even me puzzled with his alibis and his evidence. That flash of the pearls was the cleverest trick I ever heard of; but it didn't go, I'd warned the judge to look out for a scoop. He knew he was dealing with one of the most slippery rogues in captivity."

"See here, Le Drieux," said Arthur; "let us be honest with one another, now that the thing is settled and diplomacy is uncalled for. Do you really believe that Jones is Jack Andrews?"

"Me? I know it, Mr. Weldon. I don't pose as a detective, but I'm considered to have a shrewd insight into human character, and from the first moment I set eyes on him I was positive that Jones was the famous Jack Andrews. I can understand how you people, generous and trusting, have been deceived in the fellow; I admire the grit you've all shown in standing by him to the last. I haven't a particle of malice toward any one of you, I assure you—not even toward Andrews himself."

"Then why have you bounded him so persistently?"

"For two reasons." said Le Drieux. "As a noted pearl expert, I wanted to prove my ability to run down the thief; and, as a man in modest circumstances, I wanted the reward."

"How much will you get?"

"All together, the rewards aggregate twenty thousand dollars. I'll get half, and my firm will get half."

"I think," said Arthur, to test the man, "that Jones would have paid you double that amount to let him alone."

Le Drieux shook his head; then he smiled.

"I don't mind telling you, Mr. Weldon—in strict confidence, of course—that I approached Jones on that very subject, the day he was placed in jail. He must have been sure his tricks would clear him, for he refused to give me a single penny. I imagine he is very sorry, right now; don't you, sir?"

"No," said Arthur, "I don't. I still believe in his innocence."

Le Drieux stared at him incredulously.

"What, after that examination of to-day?" he demanded.

"Before and after. There was no justice in the decision of Judge Wilton; he was unduly prejudiced."

"Be careful, sir!"

"We are talking confidentially."

"To be sure. But you astonish me. I understand the character of Andrews so thoroughly that I fail to comprehend how any sensible person can believe in him. Talk about prejudice!"

"I suppose you are to remain at this hotel?" said Arthur, evading further argument.

"Yes, until the papers arrive. They ought to be here by Monday. Then I shall take Andrews to New York and we will board the first steamer for Europe."

Arthur left him. Le Drieux puzzled him more than he puzzled Le Drieux. The expert seemed sincere in the belief that he had trapped, in Jones, a noted criminal. Weldon could not help wondering, as he walked away, if possibly he and his friends had been deceived in A. Jones of Sangoa. The doubt was but momentary, yet it had forced itself into his mind.

On Saturday afternoon they all made a visit to the prisoner and tried to cheer him. Again on Sunday they called—the Stantons and Merricks and Weldons and all. Young Jones received them with composure and begged them not to worry on his account.

"I am quite comfortable in this jail, I assure you," said he. "On my journey to Vienna I shall be able to bribe Le Drieux to let me have such comforts as I desire. There is but one experience I shrink from: the passage across the Atlantic. If it brings a return of my former malady I shall suffer terribly."

"It may not be so bad as you fear," Patsy assured him, although in her heart she realized it might be the death of the boy. "Often those who are distressed by a voyage on the Pacific endure the Atlantic very well."

"That is encouraging," said he. "It is my dread of the water that has prevented me from returning to Sangoa, or even visiting my yacht. And this reminds me of a favor I wish to ask."

"You may rely upon our friendship," said Maud.

"I believe that. Here is a letter to Captain Carg, putting the Arabella at your disposal until my return from Vienna. I have named Mr. Merrick as the commander of the yacht, in my absence, and if you feel inclined to make the trip and can spare the time I would like you all to make a voyage to Sangoa."

"To Sangoa!" they cried in chorus.

"Yes. I am ambitious to prove to you, who have been my staunch friends, that the island is indeed there. Incidentally you will become acquainted with the prettiest place in all the world. My house will be at your disposal while you remain and I am sure you will find it fairly comfortable."

They were so amazed at this proposition that at first no one found words to answer the boy. It was Flo, naturally, who first collected her thoughts.

"It will be awfully jolly!" she cried, clapping her hands with delight. "I'm sure Maud and I need a vacation. Let's stick up our noses at Goldstein and sail away to the mysterious isle. What do you say, girls? And you, Mr. Merrick?"

"I believe, my boy," said Uncle John, laying a kindly hand on the youth's shoulder, "that all of us are inclined to take advantage of your offer. That is, if you are sure we can be of no further use to you in your difficulties."

"I am taking Colby abroad with me and he can do all that may be done until after my trial. Then I hope to rejoin you here and am looking forward to a jolly reunion."

Uncle John took the letters which Ajo had written to Captain Carg, to his superintendent in Sangoa and to his housekeeper. Then they all pressed the boy's hand and went away.

Monday morning the extradition papers arrived. Le Drieux exhibited them proudly to young Weldon, to Mr. Merrick, and even to the girls, who regarded the documents with shuddering awe.

"We'll take the night train," said the man. "That will get us to New York on Friday, in time to catch the Saturday steamer for Calais."

As he spoke a boy approached and handed Le Drieux a telegram.

"Excuse me," said he, and opened it with an important flourish. The next moment his face fell. He staggered and sank half fainting into a chair which Mr. Merrick pushed toward him.

Patsy ran for some water. Maud Stanton fanned the man with a folded newspaper. Arthur Weldon picked up the telegram which had fluttered from Le Drieux's grasp and deliberately read it. Then he, too, sank gasping into a chair.

"Listen, girls!" he cried, his voice shrill with emotion. "What do you think of this?

"'Jack Andrews arrested here in New York to-day by Burns detectives. Countess Ahmberg's collection of pearls was found in his possession, intact. Return here first train.'

There was a moment of tense silence.

Flo clapped her hands.

"Come on," she shouted in glee, "let's go and tell Ajo!"

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West/Chapter 26


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Page:Tracts for the Times Vol 1.djvu/417

 No. 43.]

all the boys of our Sunday-school, none have given me so much trouble as Absalom Plush, and two of farmer Yawn's sons. They are almost always behind their time: at school they are very inattentive, and at Church their conduct has been repeatedly so disgraceful that it even attracted the attention of one of the Churchwardens, who gave them a severe reprimand, and threatened to send for a constable; since which, they have conducted themselves rather more decently. Perhaps my readers may be inclined to ask why I suffer them to remain in the school, their behaviour having been so bad. My answer must be, that as they are but little boys, (for Absalom is the eldest, and he is not more than eleven, if so much,) I still hope they may improve; and if I were to put them out of the school, I fear I should lose all chance of gaining any influence over them. However, I have made up my mind that if they behave in this sort of way again, they shall go.


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2 There is, too, another consideration which has rather disposed me to be sorry for these boys in the midst of my displeasure, namely, that if they had been well instructed, and a good example had been set them at home, they would, perhaps, have behaved differently at school and in Church. For young Plush does not want for sense, though he is so unruly; and as to the little Yawns, they are not naturally of bad dispositions, but so determinedly indolent and unwilling to make any exertion for their own improvement, that it is a great trial of one's patience to endeavour to teach them. I am, however, sorry to say, the examples they have before them at home are not such as to encourage them to turn to good account the instruction they may receive at Church or at the school. This I was fully aware of from the first, and, accordingly, as it is my usual custom when the children behave ill at school to take the first opportunity of mentioning it to the parents and friends, with the hope of throwing in a word which may be for their good too, I determined that I would do so in these instances.

An occasion soon offered itself of speaking to farmer Yawn, whose house is very near to mine. But before I state what passed between us, I should say that I had, that same morning, talked the matter over with my friend Richard Nelson, in whose class Absalom was, as well as the elder of the two Yawns.

"Sir," replied Richard, in answer to my question respecting the conduct of these boys, "as to Lawrence Yawn, I cannot say that he applies much to his book, or, as I think, ever means to do so. Indeed, I have heard that he should say he likes to be at the bottom of the class, because then he has a chance of leaning against the wall, or of resting on the corner of my chair. But Absalom Plush is much more untractable, and inclined to be impudent too. To give you an instance, Sir, what happened only last Sunday. He came in very late, as he frequently does, and when I spoke to him about it he only laughed, and said he could not come sooner, and under breath, as I thought, he should not, and he seemed to me occasionally to be humming to himself some kind of song."

"A song!" said I, "what in the school? that is something new indeed."


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces in the Red Cross

 * /Foreword/

CHAPTER 1. The Arrival of the Boy

2. The Arrival of the Girl

3. The Decision of Doctor Gys

4. The Hospital Ship

5. Nearing the Fray

6. Little Maurie

7. On the Firing Line

8. The Coward

9. Courage, or Philosophy?

10. The War's Victims

11. Patsy is Defiant

12. The Other Side

13. Tardy Justice

14. Found at Last

15. Dr. Gys Surprises Himself

16. Clarette

17. Perplexing Problems

18. A Question of Loyalty

19. The Capture

20. The Dunes

title: Aunt Jane's Nieces in the Red Cross


text: Talk:Aunt Jane's Nieces in the Red Cross


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Rh "However," proceeded Nelson, "according to your advice to us in such cases, I took no notice at the time: but in the evening, as he happened to come along the path by our garden, I said to him, 'Absalom, I do wish you would pay a little more attention at school, I really fancied to-day you were singing something of a song.' 'Well,' said he, 'suppose I was—what then? 'twas only a bit of a tune that a man was singing in at father's, one night last week; and father said, that altering the words a little, it would just suit us boys of the Sunday-school. There is no harm (he continued) in the words, I will tell you what they were.' But they seemed to me, Sir, to be part of a very mischievous ballad, signifying that instead of Churches and Prayer Books, people had better sit in public houses and study newspapers; that Church-going is time-wasting, and so forth. So it is plain that the boy is encouraged at home in his bad ways; and, as you ask me the question, Sir, I fear it is not much better with the two Yawns; for I dare say you must have observed that there are six or seven people, who always come late into Church, rain or shine, morning or evening, and amongst them Master Yawn comes in as regularly as possible just about the end of the first Lesson."

"Yes," I said, "I have observed it, and have long wished for an opportunity of inquiring into the cause of such a practice."

After some other observations we parted, and it happened, as I before observed, that on the same day my neighbour Yawn came to our house to borrow a milking bucket, which I very readily lent him, though not with my servant's good will, as such articles seldom returned from the farmer's in exactly as good a condition as they went.

Seeing him, then, go out of the yard with the bucket in his hand, I met him at the garden gate, and said to him at once, "I do wish, Mr. Yawn, you would speak to Lawrence and the little boy, for by their irregularity and extreme idleness, they vex me very much, and do harm to the other boys in the school."

"Sir," he replied, making a low bow, "I am very sorry indeed to come troubling again so soon for a bucket, but our people


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4 are so careless—" "O never mind about the bucket," I said, "only please let it be throughly cleaned—but I want you to tell me what will be the best way of treating that idle fellow, Lawrence, and his little brother."

"Sir," he answered, "I am very sorry indeed they should have done any thing to offend you, but you may depend on it they shall always for the future come to school in good time, and mind what is said to them; otherwise, their mother or I will give them the stick as sure as every Sunday morning comes round."

"Mr. Yawn," I replied, "I should be very sorry to have Sunday made the day for such unpleasing performances in your house or in any other. I do not at all wish any boys to come to the school against their will, especially if their friends only send them to please me."

"O Sir," he said, "I am sure it is not at all against our will—though, certainly, 'tis a longish while for the children to stay, from nine to half past twelve, or more; and I don't altogether wonder that the boys are tired. But they shall come for the future, and stay too, tired or not tired, for I should be very sorry we should do any thing to offend you, Sir."

"You have told me so now three times, Mr. Yawn," I answered, "so of course I ought to believe it. But at all events, I hope I shall not offend you if I take this opportunity to ask you, why you and Edward Gape, and two or three others, make a rule of treating our Church service in such a careless, and I must say scornful, way?"

"Me treat the Church with scorn!" he replied, "why, Sir, what can you be thinking of? Why I scarcely ever miss a Sunday. 'Twould be a good thing for you clergymen if every body else was as regular."

"As to that," I replied, "it makes no sort of difference to us whether people come or stay away, except so far as that we ought to be thankful when they do right, and grieved when they neglect their duty. In this respect, Mr. Yawn, we are the really 'independent' ministers. But what I allude to is, your strange unaccountable custom of coming into Church so late. I have been here now nearly six years, and in all that time, though by


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Rh your own account you have come to Church regularly once every Sunday, yet I doubt if ever you have been within the walls till after I had begun reading the Lessons."

"Yes, Sir, I have," he said, "you are mistaken there."

"Come now," I said, "if I have been here five years and a half, I have been here 286 Sundays, and I think I may venture to say, that during all that time you have not been in Church time enough to hear all the first Lesson more than twenty times."

"Perhaps not," he said, "twenty is a good many."

"Well," I replied, "I will venture to say not more than ten times."

"I am not sure of that," he answered.

"But I am sure of it," I said, "sure that you have not been in by the time I mention, even five Sundays."

"I can remember at least three times," he answered, "once when I mistook the clock, and once when old Thomas Pout brought his new bassoon, and on the Fast-day I was in at the Psalms, I am confident. But I don't wish to make an argument about the matter; I will tell you, Sir, plainly, that I have a great deal to do on a Sunday morning, more than you think of, and that instead of finding fault with me for being so late, you should thank me for coming at all. Think, Sir, how many don't come at all, and there am I in the pew as regular, pretty near, as old Job the clerk, only half an hour later."

"Yes," I said, "you are very regular, in your irregularity. But, Mr. Yawn, let me ask you this one question,—do you come to Church to do any good to, or to me, or to yourself? Is it any profit to the that you serve Him, if such an imperfect attendance as yours can be called service; or to me is it any profit of advantage in the way of worldly interest? You know full well, my friend, that yours is the danger, yours will be the loss, if you persist in thus dishonouring the holy, jealous ."

To this his only reply was, that he had been used to do it for a good way in forty years, and it was not to be expected he should alter now; and with this observation he walked slowly away with the bucket over his arm. But thinking, I suppose,


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6 that he had not been quite civil to me, he turned round with the intention, as I hoped, of making some sort of promise of amendment; but my hope was groundless, for he came back and said in rather a low voice, "I hope, Sir, nothing I have said will prevent you taking your butter of us as usual; and as to the boys, I promise you they shall be well punished every Sunday morning, and then, Sir, if they do behave ill, you know it will not be my fault, or my wife's."

I made no answer, but as I walked back to the house, I was led sadly to reflect on the tendency of a worldly and selfish spirit to deaden not merely all serious sense of Religion, but even the natural affection of a parent for his children.

Some few evenings afterwards, as I was returning homewards from a distant part of the parish. Nelson overtook me, when I told him of the conversation I had with my neighbour Yawn, adding that I had little hope his boys would ever come to any good, especially as their father seemed determined to keep to his bad habit merely because it was his habit, without giving any sort of reason or excuse for it.

"O Sir," replied Nelson, "he fancies he has a very fair reason, only he did not like to mention it to you. He thinks or at least pretends to think, (for I do not imagine he puts his mind much to any thing,) that the Church Service altogether is too long and tedious. And he and some others have of late been much encouraged in this their notion by a travelling man, (whether he comes from Hull or Preston I am not sure,) who quarters at Plush's occasionally, sometimes for a fortnight at a time, and is so kind as to offer to enlighten us in this dark corner of the world."

"I have heard of him," I said; "it seems then he dabbles in religion as well as in politics."

"Yes, Sir," replied Richard, "that he certainly does, for I had the whole account of him from a man who was working with me the week before last; you know him, Sir, I dare say, William Burnet."

"O yes, I know him," I said, "very well; any thing like the prospect of a change in religion or politics William dearly