Ida Fuller had both sympathy and self-confidence, and when things went
wrong with her friends seldom felt diffident about trying to put them
right. In consequence, she took Jake away from the others, whom her
father had asked to dinner that evening.
"What's the matter with Dick Brandon?" she asked.
"It's pretty obvious. His trouble began with broken ribs and may end with
the loss of his eye; but if you want a list of his symptoms----"
"I don't," said Ida. "Does his trouble end with the injury to his eye?"
Jake gave her a sharp glance. "If you insist on knowing, I admit that I
have my doubts. But you must remember that Dick has a touch of malaria,
which makes one morbid."
"But this doesn't account for everything?"
"No," said Jake, who lighted a cigarette, "I don't think it does. In
fact, as I know your capabilities and begin to see what you're getting
after, there's not much use in my trying to put you off the track."
Ida sat down in a canvas chair and pondered for a minute or two.
"You know Miss Kenwardine; if I recollect, you were rather enthusiastic
about her. What is she like?"
Jake's eyes twinkled. "You mean--is she good enough for Dick? He'll be a
lucky man if he gets her, and I don't mind confessing that I thought of
marrying her myself only she made it clear that she had no use for me.
She was quite right; I'd have made a very poor match for a girl like
that."
Ida was not deceived by his half-humorous manner, for she remarked
something that it was meant to hide. Still, Jake had had numerous love
affairs that seldom lasted long.
"Have you been to see her since you came back?" she asked.
"Yes," said Jake. "After helping to drive her father out of the country,
I knew it would be an awkward meeting, but I felt I ought to go because
she might be in difficulties, and I went twice. On the whole, it was a
relief when I was told she was not at home."
"I wonder whether she would see me?"
"You're pretty smart, but I suspect this is too delicate a matter for you
to meddle with."
"I'll be better able to judge if you tell me what you know about it."
Jake did so with some hesitation. He knew his sister's talents and that
her object was good, but he shrank from betraying his comrade's secrets.
"I think I've put you wise, but I feel rather mean," he concluded.
"What you feel is not important. But you really think he hasn't sent her
Kenwardine's letter?"
Jake made a sign of agreement and Ida resumed: "The other letter stating that his cousin stole the plans is equally
valuable and his making no use of it is significant. Your partner's a
white man, Jake, but he's foolish and needs the help of a judicious
friend. I want both letters."