Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West
If so, that not only accounts for his influence with Goldstein,
but it proves him able to finance this remarkable enterprise. He
doubtless knows what he is undertaking, for his figures, while not
accurate, were logical."
"Of course!" cried Patsy. "That explains everything."
"Still," said Uncle John cautiously, "this is merely surmise on our part,
and before accepting it we must reconcile it with the incongruities in
the case. It is possible that the elder Jones owned an interest in the
Continental and bequeathed it to his son. But is it probable? Remember,
he was an islander, and a recluse."
"More likely," said Beth, "Ajo's father left him a great fortune, which
the boy invested in the Continental stock."
"I have been told," remarked Aunt Jane thoughtfully, "that Continental
stock cannot be bought at any price. It pays such enormous dividends that
no owner will dispose of it."
"The whole thing is perplexing in the extreme," declared Arthur. "The boy
tells a story that at first seems frank and straightforward, yet his
statements do not dovetail, so to speak."
"I think he is holding something back," said Beth; "something that would
explain all the discrepancies in his story. You were wrong, Uncle John,
not to let him speak when he offered to tell you all."
"There was something in his manner that made me revolt from forcing his
confidence," was the reply.
"There was something in his manner that made me think he was about
to concoct a story that would satisfy our curiosity," said Louise
with a shrug.
Uncle John looked around the circle of faces.
"You are not questioning the young fellow's sincerity, I hope?" said he.
"I don't, for a single second!" asserted Patsy, stoutly. "He may have a
queer history, and he may not have told us all of it, but Ajo is honest.
I'll vouch for him!"
"So will I, my dear," said Uncle John.
"That is more than I can do, just at present," Arthur frankly stated. "My
opinion is that his preposterous offer is mere bluff. If you accepted
it, you would find him unable to do his part.
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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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