“It is but natural that we should feel an interest in you, Mr. Jones,” replied Mr. Merrick; “yet I assure you we have no desire to pry into your personal affairs.  You have already volunteered a general statement of your antecedents and the object of your visit to America, and that, I assure you, will suffice us.  Pardon me for asking an impertinent question.”

The boy seemed perplexed, now.

“I did not consider it impertinent, sir.  I made a business proposal to your nieces,” he said, “and before they could accept such a proposal they would be entitled to know something of my financial standing.”

For a green, inexperienced youth, he spoke with rare acumen, thought Mr. Merrick; but the old gentleman had now determined to shield the boy from a forced declaration of his finances, so he said: 

“My nieces can hardly afford to accept your proposition.  They are really able to build one or two theatres without inconveniencing themselves, but twenty would be beyond their means.  You, of course, understand they were not seeking an investment, but trying, with all their hearts, to benefit the children.  I thoroughly approve their original idea, but if it requires twenty picture theatres to render it practical, they will abandon the notion at once.”

Jones nodded absently, his eyes half closed in thought.  After a brief pause he replied: 

“I hate to see this idea abandoned at the very moment of its birth.  It’s a good idea, and in no way impractical, in my opinion.  So permit me to make another proposition.  I will build the twenty theatres myself, and furnish the films for them, provided the young ladies will agree to assume the entire management of them when they are completed.”

Dead silence followed this speech.  The girls did some rapid-fire mental calculations and realized that this young man was proposing to invest something like fourteen hundred thousand dollars, in order that they might carry out their philanthropic conception.  Why should he do this, even if he could afford it?

Both Mr. Merrick and Arthur Weldon were staring stolidly at the floor.  Their attitudes expressed, for the first time, doubt—­if not positive unbelief.  As men of considerable financial experience, they regarded the young islander’s proposition as an impossible one.

Jones noted this blank reception of his offer and glanced appealingly at Patsy.  It was an uncomfortable moment for the girl and to avoid meeting his eyes she looked away, across the lobby.  A few paces distant stood a man who leaned against a table and held a newspaper before his face.  Patsy knew, however, that he was not reading.  A pair of dark, glistening eyes peered over the top of the paper and were steadfastly fixed upon the unconscious features of young Jones.

Something in the attitude of the stranger, whom she had never seen before, something in the rigid pose, the intent gaze—­indicating both alertness and repression—­riveted the girl’s attention at once and gave her a distinct shock of uneasiness.