Brandon of the Engineers

"So did I, but it seems that Kenwardine came to Stuyvesant and offered

him as much as he wanted."

"Kenwardine!" Dick exclaimed.

Bethune lighted his pipe. "Yes, Kenwardine. As the wharf's supposed to be

owned by Spaniards, I don't see what he has to do with it, unless he's

recently bought them out. Anyhow, it's high-grade navigation coal."

"Better stuff than we need, but the difference in price won't matter if

we can keep the concrete mill going," Dick remarked thoughtfully. "Still,

it's puzzling. If Kenwardine has bought the wharf, why's he sending the

coal away, instead of using it in the regular bunkering trade?"

"There's a hint of mystery about the matter. I expect you heard about the

collier tramp that was consigned to the French company at Arucas? Owing

to some dispute, they wouldn't take the cargo and the shippers put it on

the market. Fuller tried to buy some, but found that another party had

got the lot. Well, Stuyvesant believes it was the German, Richter, who

bought it up."

"Jake tells me that Richter's a friend of Kenwardine's."

"I didn't know about that," said Bethune. "They may have bought the cargo

for some particular purpose, for which they afterwards found it wouldn't

be required, and now want to sell some off."

"Then Kenwardine must have more money than I thought."

"The money may be Richter's," Bethune replied. "However, since we'll now

have coal enough to last until Fuller sends some out, I don't know that

we have any further interest in the matter."

He glanced keenly at Dick's thoughtful face; and then, as the latter did

not answer, talked about something else until he got up to go. After he

had gone, Dick leaned back in his chair with a puzzled frown. He had met

Richter and rather liked him, but the fellow was a German, and it was

strange that he should choose an English partner for his speculations, as

he seemed to have done. But while Kenwardine was English, Dick's papers

had been stolen at his house, and his distrust of the man grew stronger.

There was something suspicious about this coal deal, but he could not

tell exactly what his suspicions pointed to, and by and by he took up the

plan of a culvert they were to begin next morning.

A few days later, Jake and he sat, one night, in the stern of the launch,

which lay head to sea about half a mile from the Adexe wharf. The

promised coal had not arrived, and, as fuel was running very short at the

concrete mill, Dick had gone to see that a supply was sent. It was late

when he reached Adexe, and found nobody in authority about, but three

loaded lighters were moored at the wharf, and a gang of peons were

trimming the coal that was being thrown on board another. Ahead of the

craft lay a small tug with steam up. As the half-breed foreman declared

that he did not know whether the coal was going to Santa Brigida or not,

Dick boarded the tug and found her Spanish captain drinking caña with

his engineer. Dick thought one looked at the other meaningly as he

entered the small, hot cabin.