Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West
Doyle's
instructions, but am not yet a rugged example of health."
Patsy took his hand at parting, as did the others, but her attention was
divided between Ajo and the strange man who had never for a moment
ceased watching him. Not once did the dark eyes waver, but followed each
motion of the boy as he sauntered to the desk, got his key from the
clerk, and then proceeded to his room, turning up one of the corridors
on the main floor.
The stranger now laid his newspaper on the table and disclosed his
entire face for the first time. A middle-aged man, he seemed to be,
with iron-gray hair and a smoothly shaven, rather handsome face. From
his dress he appeared to be a prosperous business man and it was
evident that he was a guest of the hotel, for he wandered through the
lobby--in which many other guests were grouped, some chatting and
others playing "bridge"--and presently disappeared down the corridor
traversed by young Jones.
Patsy drew a deep breath, but said nothing to the others, who, when
relieved of the boy's presence, began to discuss volubly his
singular proposal.
"The fellow is crazy," commented Arthur. "Twenty picture theatres,
with a film factory to supply them, is a big order even for a
multi-millionaire--and I can't imagine this boy coming under that head."
"He seemed in earnest," said Maud, musingly. "What do you think,
Aunt Jane?"
"I am greatly perplexed," admitted Mrs. Montrose. "Had I not known of the
conquest of Goldstein by this boy, who issued orders which the manager of
the Continental meekly obeyed, I would have laughed at his proposition.
As it is, I'm afraid to state that he won't carry out his plan to the
letter of the agreement."
"Would it not be a rash investment, ma'am?" inquired Uncle John.
"Frankly, I do not know. While all the film makers evade any attempt to
discover how prosperous--financially--they are, we know that without
exception they have grown very wealthy. I am wondering if this young
Jones is not one of the owners of the Continental--a large stockholder,
perhaps.
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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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