Brandon of the Engineers

"What are you going to do about it?" Jake resumed.

"Nothing," said Dick.

Jake looked at him in surprise. "Don't you see what you're up against?"

"It's pretty obvious; but if I ask questions, I'll find out nothing and

show that I'm suspicious. If we let the thing go as an accident, we may

catch the fellow off his guard."

"My notion is that you know more than you mean to tell. Now you began by

taking care of me, but it looks as if the matter would end in my taking

care of you. Seems to me you need it and I don't like to see you playing

a lone hand."

Dick gave him a grateful smile. "If I see how you can help, I'll let you

know. In the meantime, you'll say nothing to imply that I'm on the

watch."

"Well," said Jake, grinning, "if you can bluff Stuyvesant, you'll be

smarter than I thought. You're a rather obvious person and he's not a

fool."

He went away, but Dick lighted a cigarette and sat still in the shade. He

was frankly daunted, but did not mean to stop, for he saw that he was

following the right clue. His reason for visiting the Adexe wharf had

been guessed. He had been watched when he went to the Vice-Consul, and it

was plain that his enemies thought he knew enough to be dangerous. The

difficulty was that he did not know who they were. He hated to think that

Kenwardine was a party to the plot, but this, while possible, was by no

means certain. At Santa Brigida, a man's life was not thought of much

account, and it would, no doubt, have been enough if Kenwardine had

intimated that Dick might cause trouble; but then Kenwardine must have

known what was likely to follow his hint.

After all, however, this was not very important. He must be careful, but

do nothing to suggest that he understood the risk he ran. If his

antagonists thought him stupid, so much the better. He saw the difficulty

of playing what Jake called a lone hand against men skilled in the

intricate game; but he could not ask for help until he was sure of his

ground. Besides, he must find a way of stopping Kenwardine without

involving Clare. In the meantime he had a duty to Fuller, and throwing

away his cigarette, resumed his work.

Two or three days later he met Kenwardine in a café where he was waiting

for a man who supplied some stores to the camp. When Kenwardine saw Dick

he crossed the floor and sat down at his table. His Spanish dress became

him, he looked polished and well-bred, and it was hard to think him a

confederate of half-breed ruffians who would not hesitate about murder.

But Dick wondered whether Clare had told him about his proposal.