CHAPTER IX
HAMMER BEGINS TO SEE
Not until reaching the launch did Jenson, who was almost beside himself with terror, seem to realize that Dr. Krausz had been powerless to save him from Hammer.
As Baumgardner tried to put him over the side he broke away, and flung himself face downward across the fore thwarts of the boat with whimpering, inarticulate cries.
The American caught Baumgardner's helpless gaze and ordered Mohammed to hold the two craft together while he attended to Jenson.
At this juncture, however, Sara Helmuth developed resources of her own. Motioning to Hammer to hold on, she calmly took a revolver from his coat-pocket, rose, and went forward.
"Get into the launch, Baumgardner," she said coldly, and the man obeyed. Jenson looked up at her, then fell to grovelling at her feet.
"Don't shoot!" he shrieked, a mad agony of fear in his voice. "I'll tell it all, fräulein—it was I who told the Herr Doctor about the——"
"Be silent!" she said scornfully, and his whimperings died away. "Get into that launch unless you want to be thrown in."
To the surprise of Hammer, the secretary clambered into the launch without a word more, and she followed him. When the chop-boxes had been put aboard and Mohammed Bari had followed them, Hammer went over the side also and curtly ordered the two boys to row back to the shore.
"Do you understand this engine, Miss Helmuth?" he asked meekly. Since this girl from California had shown herself adept at so many other things, it was more than possible that she could take care of the launch engine, so that he was not surprised when she nodded, handed back the revolver, and stooped over the fly-wheel.
An adjustment of oil and gasoline pins, and with the first crank the engine went off into a steady splutter that rose to a roar beneath her hand.
Hammer made room for her in the stern-sheets and took the tiller-ropes himself, for the launch steered from a wheel at the bow, with another amidships, but he could easily steer by the ropes from the stern.
"Baumgardner, get up that anchor. Help him, Mohammed."
The boat rocked as the little anchor was torn loose and then swung away. By the time the boatswain had got the anchor in-board the launch was standing down the coast: looking back, Hammer could see nothing save jungle, over which the sun was lowering redly, for the afternoon was hard upon its close.
"Well, it's good-bye to the doctor and his ruins," he said cheerfully to the girl at his side. To his amazement, he saw a mist in her eyes; then she turned and looked at him, her hand extended.
"I ask your pardon, Mr. Hammer."
The touch of her cool hand thrilled him, but before he could speak she went on, her voice low.
"I am sorry that I misjudged you so terribly, but under the circumstances I was unable to trust anyone. Then, when I heard the shots and came came out to see you with Adolf tied up, I knew that Potbelly had been right after all, and——"
"And so you came," he finished gravely as she paused. "I do not understand, Miss Helmuth, as I told you before, but I am just as glad as you are to leave that place behind."
"I'm—I'm not glad," she faltered, looking away from him, and he could see that her eyelids were closing and unclosing rapidly, as if to quench tears that welled forth. "It was my father's dream—I——"
He leaned forward to throw off the motor, but she recognized his intention and checked his hand swiftly.
"No, no—you misunderstand, Mr. Hammer! Please, let me think a moment! I'll try to tell you——"
"No, please don't tell me anything that distresses you, Miss Helmuth. I am very sorry that circumstances brought us together in the way they did, but everything's coming all right now, so don't worry. This boat isn't very fast, but we ought to pick up the Melindi light an hour after dark at furthest."
"What do you intend to do with Adolf Jenson, Mr. Hammer?" She turned and faced him, and now her brown eyes seemed very determined once more with the passing of her momentary weakness.
So Hammer told her the story of how Hans Schlak had died unavenged, and of necessity began at the beginning with John Solomon's arrival at "Prince's" in search of a job.
She listened with grave intentness, only smiling once, when he told about that hurried trip to the departing Mombasa at London, then sitting and watching his face. Hammer himself could give but a divided interest to the story, since he had to tell it and watch the coast at the same time, until it occurred to him to order Baumgardner to handle the yacht from the wheel forward.
He also ordered Mohammed to break out the chop-boxes and dish up as good a meal for all as their contents would afford. Then, leaning back, he filled his pipe and finished his story.
"Certainly, smoke all you want to," she smiled at his inquiring look. "Have you always been a sailor, Mr. Hammer?"
"Eh? Well, not exactly," he returned, flushing, and hesitated for a bare second. "I've been working on cattle-boats for three years past."
"Well, isn't that being a sailor?" she laughed back. Hammer looked sharply at her, and found that she meant the words. Evidently she knew nothing of cattle-boats.
"Not exactly, Miss Helmuth. It means that one associates with thugs and the lowest sort of men, and in general stands for ostracism among decent people."
"Then why did you tell me that?"
"Because you asked me."
Hammer felt, indeed, as though she had drawn the truth from him bodily, and the earnestness of his tone perhaps startled her, for she looked out toward the east, where the after-glow was striking the skies to crimson; and when finally she spoke it was with entire abandonment of the subject, much to the American's relief.
"Mr. Hammer, I wish I had trusted you in the first place. Do you know, I do think that Mr. Solomon sent you that ring for the very purpose of making me trust you? No, wait a minute, please! I haven't anyone else to depend on, and if I told you my story I think it would help me a great deal. You see, I've been rather wrought up for the past few days—in fact, ever since Dr. Krausz arrived."
Hammer nodded quietly. "I'll respect the confidence, of course, Miss Helmuth. And if I can be of any assistance, you may command me."
She seemed not to have heard the words, for she was gazing off toward the darkening coastline, lost in thought. He watched her firm, well-poised features for a moment while he lit his pipe, and as the match hissed in the water alongside, she turned decisively to him.
Hammer stopped her, telling Mohammed to get out the launch's lights and set them in their sockets, then settled back and listened without comment.
"You'll pardon me for going into my own history, Mr. Hammer, but it's necessary here. My father was an archaeologist connected with the University of California, though he was usually afield, and as I accompanied him ever since my mother's death, ten years ago, you can see how I come to recognize your Arabic expressions yesterday."
Hammer grinned to himself, for there was a suspicion of dry humour in the girl's voice, and he knew that he was forgiven.
"Last year my father and Dr. Krausz were together in Greece, while I was preparing to take up work at Dresden Library. Mr. Hammer, what happened on that trip has never been discovered. I received a very hasty letter from my father, dated at Lisbon on his return to Germany, and this was followed by the news of his death. Dr. Krausz brought his body home, for we were living in Dresden, temporarily.
"In his letter my father had merely said that he was not well but had made a great discovery, and if anything happened to him I should write to Mr. John Solomon, a friend of his at Port Said, to whom he had already written in full. At the time I thought nothing of it, though I believe that he had some presentiment of his death; nor did I distrust Dr. Krausz when——"
"Good gracious, girl!" snapped out Hammer, startled. "You don't mean to say that Krausz was responsible for your——"
"No, no! Wait, please!" She laid a hand on his arm, withdrawing it instantly. "You see, father's death was a dreadful shock to me, and then I had to straighten up all his affairs besides going on with my work at the library. So I forgot all about father's discovery and writing this Mr. Solomon. There was no mention of such a man in his papers which Dr. Krausz turned over to me—after keeping some of them, as I now know."
"Then Krausz is not your guardian, as he told me?" broke in the American. In response to the girl's surprised glance he told her of the doctor's words.
"No; that was all a lie, Mr. Hammer. Of course, I never suspected that anything was wrong, for I used to see a good deal of him in Dresden, where he stayed to work on a book. Well, about three months ago he came to me offering me this position of assistant to him. I was naturally quite flattered, for he is really a big man in the world of science, Mr. Hammer, and of course I accepted. He told me only that he had found out about this place, and, as usual, I waited to be taken into his confidence when the time came.
"Well, while I was clearing things up at home I found father's letter, and it occurred to me that since I had to pass through Port Said I might as well write to this Mr. Solomon and ask him about father's discovery. I did so, and in return received a long cable telling me to say nothing to Dr. Krausz, but to trust implicitly in whoever showed me the letter I had written Mr. Solomon.
"I waited for the messenger, but none came until that day in London when the steamer was leaving. Then a fat little man with queer blue eyes rushed up, showed me the letter, and demanded the papers which the doctor had just sent me. Since the purser had directed him to me and there was no time to waste, I obeyed, although the papers contained directions as to what I was to do in the preliminary work. Fortunately, he cabled me their contents at Mombasa."
"The thing sounds incredible, Miss Helmuth," said Hammer, as she paused, "but I rather think that there is more in it than we know. Solomon certainly must be more than a mere supercargo—and say, he sure handed Krausz a hot one!"
Whereupon he told her about Solomon's mention of having worked for a Professor Helmuth in Palestine. She smiled sadly.
"I haven't finished yet, Mr. Hammer. It—oh! What's that? It's just like a lighthouse!"
Hammer turned to see a tiny dot of light against the coast to the south-west, and nodded.
"The Melindi light—stationary white light, Miss Helmuth. We're miles away yet."
"Well, I got here and got the work started after a fashion. I thought it was awfully queer that Mr. Solomon had acted the way he did, but father spoke very warmly of him in his last letter, and father had some queer friends all over the world. Things went on very well until Dr. Krausz and Jenson came the other day. The first evening the doctor drank a good deal of champagne, and he said some things that startled me, in connection with the expedition.
"Then, the second day, I went to his tent while he was on the hill, in order to get some quinine. As I passed his table I saw a sheet of paper on the floor and stooped to pick it up; you can imagine the shock it gave me to see my father's handwriting! Then I saw that it was something about this place—Fort St. Thomas, it was called—and the paper proved to be part of a transcription father had made from some old document, telling about the things buried here.
"That made me suspect Dr. Krausz of having stolen the papers from my father. Perhaps you can guess, Mr. Hammer, that with archaeologists especially, a 'find' such as this would be a terribly big thing; it would mean not only money, but a great deal more. And with certain scientists, just as with actors, it is almost a monomania to 'have a big name'; besides, the passion for discovering such things gets a tremendous hold on one, all by itself.
"I was so angry that I went right up to the ruins and asked the doctor about it. He had been drinking again, and instead of getting angry he only laughed at me, telling me to prove it if I could—and he frightened me, Mr. Hammer. I'm not very timid, but I think any woman is afraid of a drunken man."
Hammer winced imperceptibly.
"I tried to get away with my boys, but he prevented me—not openly, but so I understood that I could not go. Therefore I managed to get one of my mission boys off with a note, but he was found and brought back by a party of Kiswahili, and the only thing I could do was to barricade myself in my tent."
"Which you did very effectually," laughed Hammer. Inwardly, he was cursing Dr. Krausz with all his soul. "Tell me, where did you get that boy Potbelly? He seems to know a lot about Solomon."
Potbelly, it appeared, had met her when she first landed, displaying letters of recommendation from John Solomon and others, upon which she had promptly engaged him. Since then he had proven invaluable to her, though he had said nothing of Solomon until he rushed into her tent that afternoon, saying that Hammer had come from that individual.
In the American's mind there was no doubt that Krausz had been carried away by the craze of his science, and he expressed himself forcibly on the subject. It occurred to him, however, that possession was nine points of the law, and they had no evidence on which to prosecute Krausz for anything. On the other hand, if he set to work to gather in John Solomon for the perjury committed on the yacht and in court, he would be removing the girl's only mainstay.
Solomon had clearly been playing a smooth game, for some undefined purpose. Supposing that Professor Helmuth had really written him from Lisbon, upon receiving the letter from Sara Helmuth telling of Dr. Krausz's expedition and asking details of her father's discovery, he might have leaped to the conclusion that Krausz was crooked.
Then he had come to England for the purpose of finding this out? That was the question troubling Hammer. It Solomon had joined the yacht merely to play Sara Helmuth's hand for her, which seemed like incredible chivalry in such a man, there would be a bad complication if Solomon were arrested for perjury.
In fact, that would be the best thing in the world for Dr. Krausz, for whoever and whatever this Solomon was, he was certainly taking care of everything in a remarkably shrewd manner.
Potbelly had plainly been stationed at Mombasa to attach himself to the girl and protect her. The mere use by Solomon of the cables in so reckless a manner showed that the man must have money behind him.
Sara Helmuth went on to say that all of Dr. Krausz's men had been with him for years, from the giant Hans Schlak to Adolf Jenson. It was clear to Hammer that Krausz had received as much of a shock as had anyone upon Schlak's death, and he had afterward threatened Jenson darkly, there and up on the hill.
But if the fellow knew who had killed Schlak, why did he not tell—or had he told the truth when he said that he had tried to fasten the crime on Solomon because he was Hammer's friend?
Suddenly the American remembered Jenson's cry, stopped by a brutal blow from the doctor. "If you let them take me, Herr Doctor, I'll tell—" what? The secretary had started to say the same thing as he grovelled at Sara Helmuth's feet, and as he recalled this Hammer sprang up.
"Jenson! Come aft here, and move spry unless you want me to come after you."
The secretary, his hands still bound, had been stretched out on one of the side-cushions near Baumgardner, and at Hammer's words he got up and shambled aft.
The American was growing less anxious with every moment to push the investigation into Schlak's death; at any rate before he and Miss Helmuth had had some kind of an explanation with John Solomon. Once Jenson was turned over for perjury, Solomon, the Arab, and Baumgardner would of necessity be gathered into the same net, while the legal complications might be unending. And Cyrus Hammer had both the sailor's and the broker's fear of lawyers.
"Look here, my man," he addressed Jenson with curt asperity, the pallid, almost corpse-like features of the man standing out in the starlight clearly. Hammer noted absently that over the shoulder of Jenson the Southern Cross hung low above the horizon's rim.
"Miss Helmuth and I know some things, and we want to know more, especially about your master's dealings with Professor Helmuth in Lisbon. You know, and you can tell us. If you do, I promise you that you'll not go up before the court for perjury, though we may hold you for a few days aboard the yacht. If you refuse, then you'll take your medicine for perjury and for your murderous attack on me. Choose."
Jenson chose, and quickly. He sank down in the bottom of the boat awkwardly, because of his bound arms, and the terror in his face was so great that the girl turned away from him, unable to watch longer.
"I'll tell, Mr. Hammer, if—if you'll let me go."
"I promise, Jenson," said Hammer quietly. "But mind you don't lie, for we know enough to test the truth of your story."
"I'll tell the truth, Mr. Hammer, so help me! Professor Helmuth was sick, and we knew that he had found something big in one of the libraries. I was nursing him, and when he got worse I went through his papers one night, then took them to the Herr Doctor who kept them.
"Professor Helmuth died, and we tried to get hold of the original papers at the library, but there had been an outbreak of Royalists and everything was closed or in disorder. So we came to Dresden and, later, made up the expedition. That's all, sir!"
"And enough." Hammer turned to Sara Helmuth. "Anything you would like to ask him, Miss Helmuth?"
"No," she shuddered, looking away. "Get him out of my sight."
Jenson needed no urging to remove himself, and for a space the two in the stern remained silent, while the motor sent its staccato exhaust humming over the sea. The Melindi light was very close now, and Hammer headed for the river, since the launch was small enough to get into the mouth of the Sabaki and make the dock.
"Thank you, Mr. Hammer," the girl spoke in a low voice as she turned to him. "So it was that man who brought about father's betrayal! I think that he will suffer punishment for that, one day."
The American gave little heed to her words at the time, but he was to remember them later, when he and Sara Helmuth and Adolf Jenson were facing the end of things together.
Jenson's soul seemed to Hammer as colourless as his face. He lay amidships, over a thwart beyond the motor, in silence: odd, thought the American, that while the man was a creature of lies and theft and treachery yet he was the veriest coward withal.
Baumgardner, who was smoking a pipe, had also come amidships to the wheel there, while Mohammed Bari was sitting forward, just beyond Jenson, chewing betel and humming some monotonous native air to himself.
The American overlooked one significant fact, namely, that Baumgardner, as well as the other Germans of the crew, had been with Krausz for several years, and since the Melindi fight was now so close he apprehended no further trouble.
He was joying in the fact that the girl's confidence had drawn them a bit closer together, mentally; and by that curious sixth sense which comes to men at such moments he felt that she also realized this, and that it was not unwelcome to her.
He frankly was drawn by Sara Helmuth. The way in which she had faced the problem presented by Dr. Krausz, her absolute independence of thought and action, and the very manner in which she bore herself—all these attracted the American greatly, and he smiled as he recollected his mental picture of this Professor Sara L. Helmuth.
Sara wasn't such a bad name alter all, he reflected, then remembered how the doctor had spoken of his assistant and frowned. Dr. Krausz certainly had something coming to him, and if he only got the chance he was going to see that it came.
However, that could wait. First was the problem of John Solomon, while he and Harcourt would have to look into Schlak's death between them.
Mohammed Bari shifted his position and hung over the side, lazily squirting betel juice outboard, and as they were now opposite the Melindi light, and a half-mile out, Hammer directed Baumgardner to head straight in for the river mouth.
The launch swung about, ceased her rolling as she rose on the first surf-crest, and on a sudden the engine gave one deep-throated, convulsive gasp and died into silence.
"The oil—turn the oil-cocks off!" exclaimed Sara Helmuth sharply, as Hammer rose. "I thought I had turned them off, but——"
"All right, I'll fix it in a minute."
Hammer went to the engine, beside Baumgardner, and leaned over; with the action he received a heavy shove that sent him head first against the second cylinder. His head striking the oil-cup, he felt the thing snap off, the jagged glass and metal ripping the skin of his brow above his left eye: for a second he was half-stunned, but fought blindly to regain his balance, thinking that the launch had struck a reef. Then he was caught from behind and half-lifted back toward the rail, a hand closing on his throat.
As he came erect, gripping desperately at the air, he saw the form of Jenson at one side, hands unbound. A flash of red split the starlight into blackness, and Jenson, with a strange clucking noise, dove head first over the side.
Baumgardner, who was trying to fling the American over the rail, stumbled on a thwart, and they both came down in a heap.
Over the port bow lay Mohammed Bari, very still and silent, a black thread of betel juice trickling from his mouth and something blacker running from between his shoulder-blades where a knife-haft gleamed. Jenson had acted swiftly.
Thrashing about in the launch's bottom, Hammer wrenched around and clutched the boatswain with his left hand, forcing him back against the rail. But his throat was dry, his breath was shut off, and the figure of Sara Helmuth standing in the stern, revolver in hand, was lost in a swirl of blackness.
Vaguely, Hammer felt the fingers of his right hand close on something hard beneath him, and with a last effort he brought the object up and struck the German with all his strength.
Hit squarely on the temple by the heavy wrench, Baumgardner groaned softly and fell back with loosened fingers, toppling slowly over the rail until a surf-crest picked him up gently and smothered him from sight.
Hammer lay motionless at the girl's feet, a black-red smear over brow and eyes, while she stood as if paralysed; and over the bow one of Mohammed Bari's hands flopped crazily to the lift of the surf.
And so the launch drifted slowly toward the river-mouth and beach, with no man to guide her.