From the architect’s office they drove to the German-American Bank, where Ajo gave his check for a hundred thousand dollars, to be placed to the credit of Mr. Wilcox, the real estate agent.  The deference shown him by the cashier seemed to indicate that this big check was not the extent of A. Jones’ credit there, by any means.

As they drove back to Hollywood, Patsy could not help eyeing this youthful capitalist with wonder.  During this day of exciting business deals the boy had behaved admirably, and there was no longer a shadow of doubt in the minds of any of Uncle John’s nieces that he was both able and anxious to carry out his part of the agreement.

Patsy almost giggled outright as she thought of Le Drieux and his ridiculous suspicions.  One would have to steal a good many pearls in order to acquire a fortune to match that of the Sangoan.

He was speaking of Sangoa now, in answer to a question of Beth’s.

“Yes, indeed,” said he, “Sangoa is very beautiful, and the climate is even more mild than that of your Southern California.  The north coast is a high bluff, on which is a splendid forest of rosewood and mahogany.  My father would never allow any of these magnificent trees to be cut, except a few that were used in building our house.”

“But how do your people live?  What is the principal industry of your islanders?” asked Beth.

“My people are—­fishermen,” he said, and then the automobile drew up before the hotel entrance and the conversation ended.

It was on the following afternoon, as they all met in the hotel lobby after lunch, that a messenger handed young Jones a neat parcel, for which a receipt was demanded.  Ajo held the parcel in his hand a while, listening to the chatter of the girls, who were earnestly discussing plans for the new picture enterprise.  Then very quietly and unobtrusively he unwrapped the package and laid upon the table beside him several small boxes bearing the name of a prominent jeweler.

“I hope,” said he, taking advantage of a pause caused by the girls observing this action, and growing visibly confused by their involuntary stares of curiosity; “I—­I hope that you, my new friends, will pardon a liberty I have taken.  I wanted to—­to present those who were instrumental in saving my life with—­with a—­a slight token of my gratitude—­a sort of—­of—­memento of a brave and generous act that gave me back the life I had carelessly jeopardized.  No,” as he saw surprise and protest written on their faces, “don’t refuse me this pleasure, I implore you!  The little—­eh—­eh—­mementos are from my own Island of Sangoa, with the necessary mountings by a Los Angeles jeweler, and—­please accept them!”

As he spoke he handed to each of the girls a box, afterward giving one to Uncle John and another to Arthur.  There remained upon the table three others.  He penciled a name upon the bottom of each and then handed them to Patsy, saying: