"Yes. He strikes me as a bit of an adventurer, but so are the rest of
them, and he's none the worse for that. Trying to get ahead of dago
politicians is a risky job."
"Is he running this place as a gambling house?"
"No," said Jake warmly; "that's much too strong. There is some card play
evenings, and I've lost a few dollars myself, but the stakes are moderate
and anything he makes on the bank wouldn't be worth while. He enjoys a
game, that's all. So do other people; we're not all like you."
"Did you see Miss Kenwardine when you came for a game?"
"I did, but I want to point out that I came to see you. She walked
through the patio, where we generally sat, and spoke to us pleasantly,
but seldom stopped more than a minute. A matter of politeness, I imagine,
and no doubt she'd sooner have stayed away."
"Kenwardine ought to keep her away. One wonders why he brought the girl
to a place like this."
Jake frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps your remark is justified, in a sense,
but you mustn't carry the idea too far. He's not using his daughter as an
attraction; it's unthinkable."
"That is so," agreed Dick.
"Well," said Jake, "I allow that our talking about it is in pretty bad
taste, but my view is this: Somehow, I don't think Kenwardine has much
money and he may feel he has to give the girl a chance."
"To marry some gambling rake?"
"No," said Jake sharply. "It doesn't follow that a man is trash because
he stakes a dollar or two now and then, and there are some pretty
straight fellows in Santa Brigida." Then he paused and grinned. "Take
yourself, for example; you've talent enough to carry you some way, and
I'm open to allow you're about as sober as a man could be."
"As it happens, I'm not eligible," Dick rejoined with a touch of
grimness. "Kenwardine wouldn't think me worth powder and shot, and I've a
disadvantage you don't know of yet."
"Anyhow, it strikes me you're taking a rather strange line. Kenwardine
let us bring you here when you were badly hurt, and Miss Kenwardine has
given herself a good deal of trouble about you. In fact, I guess you owe
it to her that you're recovering."
"That's true, I think," said Dick. "I can't remember much about my
illness, but I've a notion that she took very good care of me. Still,
there's no reason I should give her further trouble when I'm getting
better, and I want you to make arrangements for carrying me back to the
dam. Perhaps a hammock would be the best plan."
"You're not fit to be moved yet."
"I'm going, anyhow," Dick replied with quiet resolution.