"It's hard to say. Like other foreigners in the town, he's probably here for what he can get; looking for concessions or a trading monopoly of some kind." "Ah!" said Dick. "I'm not sure. But do you like him?" "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.