“It sounds remarkable.”

“And it’s no dream.  Ah, here comes Alfred.”

The clerk laid upon the table a round box coated with paraffin to exclude the air.  A tag was attached to the box, describing its contents.

“Number nineteen.  Quite right.  Take it to the printing room and tell McDonald to make me a copy as quickly as possible.  Tell him to let me know when it’s dry and ready to run.”

As the clerk disappeared Maud said: 

“I needn’t wait, I suppose?”

“No.  Werner wants you at the rehearsal of ‘The Love of a Princess.’  Before you go home to-night I’ll call you in to see the run of number nineteen.  Then you may take the film to Jones—­with my compliments.”

At five o’clock, when she was dressing to go home, Maud was summoned to the little “dark room” where all films are exhibited, trimmed and tested before being sent out.  She took Aunt Jane and Flo with her and they found Goldstein already waiting and the operator standing by his machine.

The scene was short and not very exciting, although of interest in the present crisis.  It showed the interior of the hall where the stock-holders’ meeting was held, and began with the assembling of the members.  Two or three pompous individuals then seated themselves facing the others, and the proceedings began.  A slim boy on a back bench arose and said something.  Panic was at once written on the faces of the former officers.  They gesticulated; their lips moved rapidly.  The boy, easily recognized as A. Jones, advanced and displayed a lot of papers, which were carefully examined.  He then took the president’s chair, the former officers fled in disgust and the throng of stockholders wildly applauded.  Then the light went out, the machine stopped, and Goldstein opened the door to let in light and air.

“It was the same kid, all right,” he remarked.  “I had never seen this film run before, but it shows how Jones called the turn on the old officers in great shape.  I wonder where he got all the money?”

Maud secured his promise to send an operator to town, to exhibit the film before the judge, whenever he might be required.  Then she went to her hotel fully satisfied that she had done all in her power to assist A. Jones of Sangoa.

CHAPTER XXV

JUDGMENT

A telegram from Major Doyle corroborated Le Drieux’s assertion that Jack Andrews had arrived at the port of New York via the Princess Irene on January twenty-seventh.  A report from Lawyer Colby stated that he was now so thoroughly posted on everything pertaining to pearls that he could easily confound the expert, Mr. Isidore Le Drieux.  There the matter rested for three days, during which the Stanton girls continued their work at the studio and Uncle John’s nieces busied themselves enjoying the charms of the ideal Hollywood climate.  Then came the news that the judge would call Jones for examination at nine o’clock on Friday morning, the thirteenth.