"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--and they 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 Hercules," asserted Patsy, 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.