Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West
"To be sure. You're going to get well."
He made no reply, but sat watching Beth's nimble fingers. Patsy was too
excited to resume her embroidery.
"I wonder if you are old enough to smoke?" remarked Beth.
"I'm over twenty-one."
"Indeed! We decided you were about eighteen."
"But we are not Spanish in Sangoa."
"What are your people?"
"Formerly all Americans. The younger generation are, like myself I
suppose, Sangoans by birth. But there isn't a black or yellow or brown
man on our island."
"How many inhabitants has Sangoa?"
"About six hundred, all told."
There was silence for a while.
"Any pains yet?" inquired Beth.
"Not yet. But I'm feeling drowsy. With your permission I'll lie down and
take a nap. I slept very little last night."
He threw away his cigar, which he had smoked nearly to the end, and
rising without assistance, bowed and walked away.
"Will he ever waken, I wonder?" said Beth softly.
"Of course," declared Patsy. "He has crossed the Rubicon and is going to
get well. I feel it in my bones!"
"Let us hope," responded Beth, "that Ajo also feels it in his bones,
rather than in his stomach."
CHAPTER X
STILL A MYSTERY
The day advanced to luncheon time and Uncle John and the Weldons came
back from their mountain trip. Hollywood is in the foothills and over the
passes are superb automobile roads into the fruitful valleys of San
Fernando and La Canada.
"Seen anything of the boy--A. Jones?" inquired Arthur.
"Yes; and perhaps we've seen the last of him," answered Beth.
"Oh. Has he gone?"
"No one knows. Patsy fed him and he went to sleep. What has happened
since we cannot tell."
The girls then related the experiences of the morning, at which both
Uncle John and Arthur looked solemn and uncomfortable. But Louise
said calmly:
"I think Patsy was quite right. I wouldn't have dared such a thing
myself, but I'm sure that boy needed a square meal more than anything. If
he dies, that breakfast has merely hastened his end; but if he doesn't
die it will do him good.
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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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