Brandon of the Engineers

"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.