"What are you going to do about it?" Jake resumed.
"Nothing," said Dick.
Jake looked at him in surprise. "Don't you see what you're up against?"
"It's pretty obvious; but if I ask questions, I'll find out nothing and
show that I'm suspicious. If we let the thing go as an accident, we may
catch the fellow off his guard."
"My notion is that you know more than you mean to tell. Now you began by
taking care of me, but it looks as if the matter would end in my taking
care of you. Seems to me you need it and I don't like to see you playing
a lone hand."
Dick gave him a grateful smile. "If I see how you can help, I'll let you
know. In the meantime, you'll say nothing to imply that I'm on the
watch."
"Well," said Jake, grinning, "if you can bluff Stuyvesant, you'll be
smarter than I thought. You're a rather obvious person and he's not a
fool."
He went away, but Dick lighted a cigarette and sat still in the shade. He
was frankly daunted, but did not mean to stop, for he saw that he was
following the right clue. His reason for visiting the Adexe wharf had
been guessed. He had been watched when he went to the Vice-Consul, and it
was plain that his enemies thought he knew enough to be dangerous. The
difficulty was that he did not know who they were. He hated to think that
Kenwardine was a party to the plot, but this, while possible, was by no
means certain. At Santa Brigida, a man's life was not thought of much
account, and it would, no doubt, have been enough if Kenwardine had
intimated that Dick might cause trouble; but then Kenwardine must have
known what was likely to follow his hint.
After all, however, this was not very important. He must be careful, but
do nothing to suggest that he understood the risk he ran. If his
antagonists thought him stupid, so much the better. He saw the difficulty
of playing what Jake called a lone hand against men skilled in the
intricate game; but he could not ask for help until he was sure of his
ground. Besides, he must find a way of stopping Kenwardine without
involving Clare. In the meantime he had a duty to Fuller, and throwing
away his cigarette, resumed his work.
Two or three days later he met Kenwardine in a café where he was waiting
for a man who supplied some stores to the camp. When Kenwardine saw Dick
he crossed the floor and sat down at his table. His Spanish dress became
him, he looked polished and well-bred, and it was hard to think him a
confederate of half-breed ruffians who would not hesitate about murder.
But Dick wondered whether Clare had told him about his proposal.