Then she began to wonder what was the business that had brought him to Santa Brigida. He did not talk about it, but she was sure it was not gambling, as Brandon thought. No doubt he won some money from his friends, but it could not be much and he must lose at times. She must look for another explanation and it was hard to find. Men who did not play cards came to the house in the daytime and occasionally late at night, and Kenwardine, who wrote a good many letters, now and then went away down the coast. There was a mystery about his occupation that puzzled and vaguely alarmed her, and she could turn to nobody for advice. She had refused her aunt's offer of a home and knew it would not be renewed. They had cast her off and done with her. Getting up presently with a troubled sigh, she went to her room. In the meantime, Jake stayed in the patio with the others. A thin, dark Spaniard, who spoke English well, and two Americans occupied the other side of the table; a fat German sat nearly opposite the Spaniard and next to Jake. The heat made them languid and nobody wanted to play cards, although there was a pack on the table. This happened oftener than Brandon thought. "It's a depressing night and an enervating country," Kenwardine remarked. "I wonder why we stay here as we do, since we're apt to leave it as poor as when we came. The people are an unstable lot, and when you've spent your time and energy developing what you hope is a profitable scheme, some change of policy or leaders suddenly cuts it short." "I guess that explains why we _are_ here," one of the Americans replied. "The South is the home of the dramatic surprise and this appeals to us. In the North, they act by rule and one knows, more or less, what will happen; but this gives one no chances to bet upon." The fat German nodded. "It is the gambler's point of view. You people take with pleasure steep chances, as they say, but mine act not so. The system is better. One calculates beforehand what may happen and it is provided for. If things do not go as one expects, one labors to change them, and when this is not possible adopts an alternative plan." "But there always is a plan, Senor Richter!" the Spaniard remarked. Richter smiled. "With us, I think that is true. Luck is more fickle than a woman and we like not the surprise. But our effort is to be prepared for it." "You're a pretty hard crowd to run up against," said the other American.