“It was Maud Stanton!” asserted, the manager.

“Yes; she and some others.  A man was really drowning and the brave girl swam to his rescue, without a thought of posing.”

“I don’t believe it!” cried the man rudely.

Here A. Jones struggled to his feet.

“It is true,” he said.  “I was the drowning man whom Miss Stanton saved.”

Goldstein eyed him shrewdly.

“Perhaps you were,” he admitted, “for the man in the picture was about your style of make-up.  But how can you prove it was not a put-up job with the Corona people?  How do I know you are not all in the employ of the Corona people?”

“I give you my word.”

“Pah!  I don’t know you.”

“I see you don’t,” returned the youth stiffly.

“Here is my card.  Perhaps you will recognize the name.”

He fumbled in his pocket, took out a card and handed it to the manager.  Goldstein looked at it, started, turned red and then white and began bobbing his head with absurd deference to the youth.

“Pardon, Mr. Jones—­pardon!” he gasped.  “I—­I heard you were in our neighborhood, but I—­I did not recognize you.  I—­I hope you will pardon me, Mr. Jones!  I was angry at what I supposed was the treachery of an employee.  You will—­will—­understand that, I am sure.  It is my duty to protect the interests of the Continental, you know, sir.  But it’s all right now, of course!  Isn’t it all right now, Mr. Jones?”

“You’d better go, Goldstein,” said the boy in a weary tone, and sat down again.

The manager hesitated.  Then he bowed to Maud Stanton and to the others, murmuring: 

“All a mistake, you see; all a mistake.  I—­I beg everybody’s pardon.”

With this he backed away, still bowing, and finally turned and beat a hasty retreat.  But no one was noticing him especially.  All eyes were regarding the boy with a new curiosity.

“That Goldstein is an ill-bred boor!” remarked Uncle John in an annoyed tone.

“I suppose,” said Maud, slowly, “he thought he was right in demanding an explanation.  There is great rivalry between the various film manufacturers and it was rather mean of the Corona to put my name on that placard.”

“It’s wonderful!” exclaimed Patsy.  “How did they get the picture, do you suppose?”

“They have camera-men everywhere, looking for some picture worth while.” explained Mrs. Montrose.  “If there’s a fire, the chances are a camera-man is on the spot before the firemen arrive.  If there’s an accident, it is often caught by the camera before the victim realizes what has happened.  Perhaps a camera-man has been at the beach for weeks, waiting patiently for some tragedy to occur.  Anyway, he was on hand yesterday and quietly ran his film during the excitement of the rescue.  He was in rare luck to get Maud, because she is a favorite with the public; but it was not fair to connect her name with the picture, when they know she is employed by the Continental.”