Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West
"
"Some out-of-the-way village, I suppose. People are here from every crack
and corner of America, you know."
"It sounds a bit Spanish," commented Arthur. "Maybe he is from Mexico."
"Maybe," agreed Uncle John. "Anyhow, Maud has saved his life, and if it's
worth anything to him he ought to be grateful."
"Never mind that," said Maud, flushing prettily with embarrassment as all
eyes turned upon her, "I'm glad I noticed him in time; but now that he is
all right he need never know who it was that rescued him. And, for that
matter, sir, Patsy Doyle and Mr. Weldon did as much for him as I.
Perhaps they saved us both, while your promptness in getting him to the
hospital was the main factor in saving his life."
"Well, it's all marked down in the hospital books," remarked Uncle John.
"I had to tell the whole story, you see, as a matter of record, and all
our names are there, so none can escape the credit due her--or him."
"In truth," said Mrs. Montrose with a smile, "it really required four of
you to save one slender boy."
"Yes, he needed a lot of saving," laughed Flo. "But," her pretty face
growing more serious, "I believe it was all Fate, and nothing else. Had
we not come to the beach this afternoon, the boy might have drowned; so,
as I suggested the trip, I'm going to take a little credit myself."
"Looking at it in that light," said Patsy, "the moving picture man saved
the boy's life by giving you a half-holiday."
This caused a laugh, for their spirits were now restored to normal. To
celebrate the occasion, Mr. Merrick proposed to take them all into Los
Angeles to dine at a "swell restaurant" before returning to Hollywood.
This little event, in conjunction with the afternoon's adventure, made
them all more intimate, so that when they finally reached home and
separated for the night they felt like old friends rather than recent
acquaintances.
CHAPTER VI
A. JONES
There was work for the Stanton girls at the "film factory," as they
called it, next morning, so they had left the hotel before Mr.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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