"There are a lot of things we don't know, but ought to know, in order to defend you properly," she observed, looking at him earnestly.
"Question me, then."
"I want to know the exact date when you landed in this country from Sangoa."
"Let me see. It was the twelfth day of October, of last year."
"Oh! so long ago as that? It is fifteen months. Once you told us that you had been here about a year."
"I didn't stop to count the months, you see. The twelfth of October is correct."
"Where did you land?"
"At San Francisco."
"Direct from Sangoa?"
"Direct from Sangoa."
"And what brought you from Sangoa to San Francisco?"
"A boat."
"A sailing-ship?"
"No, a large yacht. Two thousand tons burden."
"Whose yacht was it?"
"Mine."
"Then where is it now?"
He reflected a moment.
"I think Captain Carg must be anchored at San Pedro, by now. Or perhaps he is at Long Beach, or Santa Monica," he said quietly.
"On this coast!" exclaimed Maud.
"Yes."
Patsy was all excitement by now and could no longer hold her tongue.
"Is the yacht Arabella yours?" she demanded.
"It is, Miss Patsy."
"Then it is lying off Santa Monica Bay. I've seen it!" she cried.
"It was named for my mother," said the boy, his voice softening, "and built by my father. In the Arabella I made my first voyage; so you will realize I am very fond of the little craft."
Maud was busily thinking.
"Is Captain Carg a Sangoan?" she asked.
"Of course. The entire crew are Sangoans."
"Then where has the yacht been since it landed you here fifteen months ago?"
"It returned at once to the island, and at my request has now made another voyage to America."
"It has been here several days."
"Quite likely."
"Has it brought more pearls from Sangoa?"
"Perhaps. I do not know, for I have not yet asked for the captain's report."
Both Uncle John and Patsy were amazed at the rapidity with which Maud was acquiring information of a really important character. Indeed, she was herself surprised and the boy's answers were already clearing away some of the mists. She stared at him thoughtfully as she considered her next question, and Jones seemed to grow thoughtful, too.
"I have no desire to worry my friends over my peculiar difficulties," he presently said. "Frankly, I am not in the least worried myself. The charge against me is so preposterous that I am sure to be released after the judge has examined me; and, even at the worst – if I were sent to Vienna for trial – the Austrians would know very well that I am not the man they seek."
"That trip would cause you great inconvenience, however," suggested
Mr. Merrick.
"I am told a prisoner is treated very well, if he is willing to pay for such consideration," said Jones.
"And your good name?" asked Maud, with a touch of impatience.
"My good name is precious only to me, and I know it is still untarnished. For your sake, my newly found friends, I would like the world to believe in me, but there is none save you to suffer through my disgrace, and you may easily ignore my acquaintance."
"What nonsense!" cried Patsy, scornfully. "Tell me, sir, what's to become of our grand motion picture enterprise, if you allow yourself to be shipped to Vienna as a captured thief?"
He winced a trifle at the blunt epithet but quickly recovered and smiled at her.
"I'm sorry, Miss Patsy," said he. "I know you will be disappointed if our enterprise is abandoned. So will I. Since this latest complication arose I fear I have not given our project the consideration it deserves."
The boy passed his hand wearily across his forehead and, rising from his seat, took a few nervous steps up and down the room. Then, pausing, he asked abruptly:
"Are you still inclined to be my champion, Miss Stanton?"
"If I can be of any help," she replied, simply.
"Then I wish you would visit the yacht, make the acquaintance of Captain
Carg and tell him of the trouble I am in. Will you?"