citate me at all. And now, I believe it
would be courteous for me to tell you who I am and how I came to be in
such dire peril."

He paused to look around him questioningly and the interest on every
face was clearly evident. Arthur took this opportunity to introduce Jones
to Louise and Beth and then they all sat down again. Said Uncle John to
the stranger, in his frank and friendly way:

"Tell us as much or as little as you like, my boy. We are not unduly
inquisitive, I assure you."

"Thank you, sir. I am an American, and my name is Jones. That is, I may
claim American parentage, although I was born upon a scarcely known
island in the Pacific which my father purchased from the government of
Uruguay some thirty years ago."

"Sangoa?" asked Arthur.

He seemed surprised at the question but readily answered:

"Yes; Sangoa. My father was a grandnephew of John Paul Jones and very
proud of the connection; but instead of being a sailor he was a
scientist, and he chose to pass his life in retirement from the world."

"Your father is no longer living, then?" said Mr. Merrick.

"He passed away a year ago, on his beloved island. My mother died
several years before him. I began to feel lonely at Sangoa and I was
anxious to visit America, of which my mother had so often told me. So
some months ago I reached San Francisco, since when I have been traveling
over your country--my country, may I call it?--and studying your modern
civilization. In New York I remained fully three months. It is only about
ten days since I returned to this coast."

He stopped abruptly, as if he considered he had told enough. The brief
recital had interested his auditors, but the ensuing pause was rather
embarrassing.

"I suppose you have been visiting relatives of your parents," remarked
Uncle John, to ease the situation.

"They--had no relatives that I know of," he returned. "I am quite alone
in the world. You must not suppose I am unaccustomed to the water," he
hastened to add, as if to retreat from an unpleasant subject. "At Sangoa
I have bathed in the sea ever since I can remember anything; but--I am
not in good health. I suffer from indigestion, a chronic condition,
which is my incubus. Yesterday my strength suddenly deserted me and I
became helpless."

"How fortunate it was that Maud noticed you!" exclaimed Patsy, with
generous sympathy.

Again the half sad smile softened his face as he looked at her.

"I am not sure it was wholly fort