MAUD MAKES A MEMORANDUM
My mother used to say to me: "Never expect to find brains in a pretty
girl." Perhaps she said it because I was not a pretty girl and she
wished to encourage me. In any event, that absurd notion of the ancients
that when the fairies bestow the gift of beauty on a baby they withhold
all other qualities has so often been disproved that we may well
disregard it.
Maud Stanton was a pretty girl--indeed, a beautiful girl--but she
possessed brains as well as beauty and used her intellect to advantage
more often than her quiet demeanor would indicate to others than her most
intimate associates. From the first she had been impressed by the notion
that there was something mysterious about A. Jones and that his romantic
explanation of his former life and present position was intended to hide
a truth that would embarrass him, were it fully known. Therefore she had
secretly observed the young man, at such times as they were together, and
had treasured every careless remark he had made--every admission or
assertion--and made a note of it. The boy's arrest had startled her
because it was so unexpected, and her first impulse was to doubt his
innocence. Later, however, she had thoroughly reviewed the notes she had
made and decided he was innocent.
In the quiet of her own room, when she was supposed to be asleep, Maud
got out her notebook and read therein again the review of all she had
learned concerning A. Jones of Sangoa.
"For a boy, he has a good knowledge of business; for a foreigner, he has
an excellent conception of modern American methods," she murmured
thoughtfully. "He is simple in little things; shrewd, if not wise, in
important matters. He proved this by purchasing the control of the
Continental, for its shares pay enormous dividends.
"Had he stolen those pearls, I am sure he would have been too shrewd to
have given a portion of them to us, knowing we would display them openly
and so attract attention to them. A thief so ingenious as Andrews, for
instance, would never have done so foolish a thing as that, I am
positive. Therefore, Jones is not Andrews.
"Now, to account for the likeness between Andrews, an American
adventurer, and Jones, reared and educated in the mysterious island of
Sangoa. Ajo's father must have left some near relatives in this country
when he became a recluse in his far-away island. Why did he become a
recluse? That's a subject I must consider carefully, for he was a man of
money, a man of science, a man of affairs. Jones has told us he has no
relatives here. He may have spoken honestly, if his father kept him in
ignorance of the family history. I'm not going to jump at the conclusion
that the man who calls himself Jack Andrews is a near relative of our
Ajo--a cousin, perhaps--but I'll not forget that that might explain the
likeness between them.
"Ajo's father must have amassed a great fortune, during many years, from
his pearl fisheries. That would explain why the boy has so much money at
his disposal. He didn't get it from the sale of stolen pearls, that is
certain. In addition to the money he invested in the Continental, he has
enough in reserve to expend another million or so in Patsy Doyle's motion
picture scheme, and he says he can spare it easily and have plenty left!
This, in my opinion, is a stronger proof of Jones' innocence than Lawyer
Colby seems to consider it. To me, it is conclusive.
"Now, then, where is Sangoa? How can one get to the island? And,
finally, how did Jones get here from Sangoa and how is he to return, if
he ever wants to go back to his valuable pearl fisheries, his people and
his home?"
She strove earnestly to answer these questions, but could not with her
present knowledge. So she tucked the notebook into a drawer of her desk,
put out her light and got into bed.
But sleep would not come to her. The interest she took in the fate of
young Jones was quite impersonal. She liked the boy in the same way she
had liked dozens of boys. The fact that she had been of material
assistance in saving his life aroused no especial tenderness in her. On
his own account, however, Jones was interesting to her because he was so
unusual. The complications that now beset him added to this interest
because they were so curious and difficult to explain. Maud had the
feeling that she had encountered a puzzle to tax her best talents, and so
she wanted to solve it.
Suddenly she bounded out of bed and turned on the electric light. The
notebook was again brought into requisition and she penciled on its pages
the following words:
"What was the exact date that Jack Andrews landed in America? What
was the exact date that Ajo landed from Sangoa? The first question
may be easily answered, for doubtless the police have the record.
But--the other?"
Then she replaced the book, put out the light and went to sleep
very easily.
That last thought, now jotted down in black and white, had effectually
cleared her mind of its cobwebs.