The doorbell rang sharply.There was a moment's questioning pause，for it was too early for visitors.The pattering feet of the little maid，Mary，approached the door and next moment a boyish voice demanded：
"Is Mr.Merrick at home，or the young ladies，or—""Why，it's Ajo！"shouted Patsy，springing to her feet andmaking a dive fora the hallway.
"Jones？"said Mr.Merrick，looking incredulous.
"It must be，"declared Beth，for now Patsy's voice was blended with that of the boy in a rapid interchange of question and answer.Then in she came，dragging him joyously by the arm.
"This is certainly a surprise！"said Mr.Merrick，shakingthe tall，slender youth by the hand with evident pleasure."When did you get to town？"asked Beth，greeting theboy cordiallya."And why didn't you let us know you were on the way from far—off Los Angeles？""Well，"said Jones，seating himself facing them and softly rubbing his lean hands together to indicate his satisfaction at this warm reception，"it's a long，long story and I may as well tell it methodicallyb or you'll never appreciate the adventurous spirit that led me again to New York—the one place I heartily detest.""Oh，Ajo！"protested Patsy."Is this the way to retain thefriendship of New Yorkers？""Isn't honesty appreciated here？"he wanted to know.
"Go ahead with your story，"said Uncle John."We left you some months ago at the harbor of Los Angeles，wondering what you were going to do with that big ship of yours that lay anchored in the Pacific.If I remember aright，you were considering whether you dared board it to return to that mysterious island home of yours at—at—""Sangoa，"said Patsy.
"Thank you for giving me a starting—point，"returned the boy，with a smile."You may remember that when I landed in your country from Sangoa I was a miserable invalid.The voyage had ruined my stomach and wrecked my constitution.I crossed the continent to New York and consulted the best specialists—andthey nearly put an end to me.I returned to the Pacific coast to die as near home as possible，and—and there I met you.""And Patsy saved your life，"added Beth.
"She did.First，however，Maud Stanton saved me from drowning.Then Patsy Doyle doctored me and made me well and strong.And now—""And now you look like a modern Herculesa，"assertedPatsy，gazing with some pride at the bronzed cheeks and clear eyes of the former invalid and ignoring his slight proportions."Whatever have you been doing with yourself since then？""Taking a sea voyage，"he affirmed.
"Really？"
"An absolute fact.For months I dared not board the Arabella，my sea yacht，for fear of a return of my old malady；but after you deserted me and came to this—this artificial，dreary，bewildering—""Never mind insulting my birthplace，sir！""Oh！were you born here，Patsy？Then I'll give the town credit.So，after you deserted me at Los Angeles—""You still had Mrs.Montrose and her nieces，Maud and Flo Stanton.""I know，and I love them all.But they became sotremendously busy that I scarcely saw them，and finally I began to feel lonely.Those Stanton girls are chock full of business energy and they hadn't the time to devote to me that you people did.SoI stood on the shore and looked at the Arabella until I mustered up couragea to go aboard.Surviving that，I made Captain Carg steam slowly along the coast for a few miles.Nothing dreadful happened.So I made a day's voyage，and still ate my three squares a day.That was encouraging.""I knew all the time it wasn't the voyage that wrecked your stomach，"said Patsy confidently.
"What was it，then？"
"Ptomaine poisoning，or something like that.""Well，anyhow，I found I could stand ocean travelagain，so I determined on a voyage.The Panama Canalb was just opened and I passed through it，came up the Atlantic coast，and—the Arabella is at this moment safely anchored in the North River！""And how do you feel？"inquired Uncle John."Glorious—magnificent！The trip has sealed my recoveryfor good.""But why didn't you go home，to your Island of Sangoa？"asked Beth.
He looked at her reproachfully.
"You were not there，Beth；nor was Patsy，or Uncle John.On the other hand，there is no one in Sangoa who cares a rap whether I come home or not.I'm the last of the Joneses of Sangoa，and while it is still my island and the entire population is in my employ，the life there flows on just assmoothly without me as if I were present.""But don't they need the ship—the Arabella？"questioned Beth.
"Not now.I sent a cargo of supplies by Captain Carg when he made his last voyage to the island，and there will not be enough pearls found in the fisheries for four or five months to come to warrant my shipping them to market.Even then，they would keep.So I'm a free lance at present and I had an idea that if I once managed to get the boat around here you folks might find a use for it.""In what way？"inquired Patsy，with interest.
