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Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

Page 519

by L. Frank Baum


  “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.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE ADVANTAGE OF A DAY

  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 throu
gh 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!”

  CHAPTER XXIV

  PICTURE NUMBER NINETEEN

  “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. Yon 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 Jon
es 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.

  CHAPTER XXV

  JUDGMENT

  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.”

 

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