He went off and Kit smoked a fresh cigarette. The adventure had some charm, but he was not altogether satisfied. He had, however, agreed to go, and presently he banished his doubts.
Jefferson sat in the shade of the bougainvillea and pondered some letters. Austin lounged in a basket-chair opposite and read the _Diario_. They had combined their business as far as possible, but Pancho Brown would not agree to a formal amalgamation. All was quiet. One heard the fountain splash and Betty's typewriter rattle. Sometimes a voice came from the room where Jefferson's Spanish clerks were occupied, but this was all.
"The tomato crop was light and the vines are doing badly. It's ominous that the Palma import houses are cutting down their orders."
"Martinez allowed he wanted to get out of the deal in chemical fertilisers. Trade is looking sick," Jefferson agreed.
"When I joined Pancho Brown I used to study the accounts and congratulate myself when I saw our credits going up," Austin remarked with a smile. "To feel I could write a cheque for a good sum was something very new. Now I'm bothered because we have money at the bank. I don't see how it's going to be usefully employed."
"You want to keep money moving. Well, I met Wolf a day or two since, and he hinted he knew about a deal. I wasn't keen, but he said he might come around and see us. I rather expect him."
"Sure thing! Reckon it's instinctive. I like straightforward folks. Wolf's a mystery man."
Austin looked up and laughed. "He's coming."
Wolf crossed the flags, and when he stopped by the bougainvillea his face was red. He was fat and his thin, black alpaca jacket looked very tight.
"Sun's fierce. Will you take a drink?" said Jefferson, and clapping his hands for a servant, ordered _Cerveza_.
As a rule, in hot countries, cautious white men do not drink much beer, but Wolf drained his glass of pale yellow liquor with obvious satisfaction.
"The Glasgow stuff is good," he said. "In fact, for British lager, it's very nearly right."
"Where d'you reckon to get it exactly right? Chicago or Munich?" Jefferson inquired.
Wolf laughed. "It's good at both cities. At Munich there's a _garten_. But I'm not going to bore you by talking about lager."