"Dang it, but it be a mortal 'ot day!"
Solomon, with his mild observation, paused to mop his brow with a flaming red handkerchief. Instantly offended, Smith snapped out a curt question.
"Your business with me, sir?"
Solomon looked up, his blue eyes widening in surprise.
"Why, dang it, if it ain't the new commissioner as I 'aven't met yet! Werry pleased I am to meet you, sir, and 'ere's 'oping as 'ow we'll get on well in future, as the old gent said to the new 'ousemaid. Me name's Solomon, sir, John Solomon."
"So I understand. Your business?"
Solomon once more seemed surprised, then looked around and nodded to Hammer.
"Why, sir, I 'eard as 'ow me friend, Mr. 'Ammer, was 'ere, so I says to meself: 'John,' says I, 'don't refuse a 'elping 'and to a friend! 'Elping 'ands is cheap,' I says; 'but friends is werry 'ard to find.' So 'ere I be, sir, 'oping as 'ow you'll see fit to let Mr. 'Ammer go with me."
"You're a very innocent person," came the brusque reply. "Mr. Hammer is accused of murder, and does not go with you."
"Lud! Murder! And who's 'e been and murdered, if I may make so bold, sir?"
Hammer grinned to himself, though inwardly worried over Jenson. Had the man seen Solomon coming?
"He's accused of murdering Mr. Harcourt, who died at your house not long ago."
"Lud! To think o' that!" Solomon fixed the commissioner with his wide blue stare, seemingly as harmless as a baby's, then shifted it to the officer. "Your servant, lieutenant, sir! Mr. Smith, might I 'ave bit o' speech with you in the other room, sir?"
"You may not. By the way, lieutenant, better make sure of getting Mr. Solomon as witness in this case I——"
"Beggin' your pardon, sir; but if so be as you 'as the time, I'd like a bit o' speech with you in the other room."
Smith looked up, raging at Solomon's calm persistency.
"Confound your deuced insolence, sir!" he began. "Do you think——"
"Did you ever 'appen to 'ear, sir," and the wide blue eyes narrowed a trifle, "as 'ow this station come wacant? Werry unforchnit it was, sir, for the gentleman as was 'ere before you. Lieutenant, your servant; if so be as you'd say a word to Mr. Smith——"
"I really think, sir," said the police officer dryly, "that it would be wise to grant Mr. Solomon's request."
Smith glared from one to the other, while Hammer chuckled. Then, as Solomon very calmly drew out clay pipe and plug, the commissioner sprang to his feet and whirled into the other room.
"Very well, Solomon."
"Thank you, sir," and as Solomon passed the lieutenant of police, Hammer caught an almost imperceptible wink.
What transpired in the other room Hammer never knew. For a long ten minutes those in the outer room listened to the hum of voices; then the commissioner reappeared, his face very red indeed.
"Lieutenant, put those two Dutchmen in cells and keep them there," he ordered succinctly, and sat down at his table while Solomon came out. For another few moments he wrote rapidly, then passed the paper to Solomon, who scrutinized it carefully and signed.
"I'm sorry this mistake occurred, Mr. Hammer," and the commissioner turned to him with extended hand, which the American grasped. "You'll have to go to Nairobi, of course; but I've accepted Mr. Solomon's bond for your appearance there. By Jove! Sergeant, take two men and get down to the wharfs; stop that fellow Jenson and bring him up here. We'll land him for perjury, Solomon!"
"Werry good, sir; and if so be as all's well, Mr. 'Ammer and I will bid you good day. We'll be back werry shortly, I 'opes, sir."
Once more in the free air, Hammer's first thought was for Jenson. As he started after the sergeant Solomon stopped him with a quiet chuckle and pointed out to a dot at the river-mouth.
"Too late, sir. But there ain't no 'urry, Mr. 'Ammer. There's a mortal lot in what the Arabs say about fate, sir; and if so be as a man's turned to evil ways, sir, then 'e's got to run 'is course, I says. Don't you fret, Mr. 'Ammer, we're a-going to send that 'ound to 'ell, sir."
To his surprise, the pudgy man led the way to the river, with Omar trailing after them, and, as they went, Solomon explained matters somewhat.
When he had left with Omar, the day before, he had missed the trail of Jenson and the askaris, owing to the fact that Jenson had been fetched back to Melindi by the police.
The askaris had perforce come with him, but had been sent on to the camp by launch, with a native for guide. Solomon had left no word of his whereabouts because he wanted Hammer at the plantation house where he could find him at a moment's notice.
No such restrictions had been placed on the two Afghans, however, since he was anxious to see them. Accordingly, having found out from the servants the direction in which Solomon had started, they had slipped out during the night and come to meet him.
Not until after sending Omar to bring Hammer did Solomon find out from a party of natives that he was on the wrong scent, so he had promptly turned back, to be joined by Omar and brought to the commissioner's office in the nick of time.
"No such thing," returned Solomon to a remark by Hammer—"no such thing as coincidence, Mr. 'Ammer. Just the way things work out, I say. When the time comes to get that 'ound Jenson, why, we'll get 'im, sir, and not till then."
"Where's Sara Helmuth?" asked the American.
"Right 'ere, sir," and Solomon pointed to the wharf ahead. Then Hammer saw that his own Daphne launch and another were lying ready, filled with Arabs; in the first was seated Sara Helmuth, who left the shade of the awning to meet them as they came down the wharf.
"A fair jewel, the missus is," but Solomon lowered his tone as he went on. "I came to get you off, sir, while she took charge o' this 'ere. And werry well done it is, sir! Off we goes after Jenson."
Few words passed between Hammer and the girl, to whom the story was told as they chugged out into the lines of surf and headed to the north. Quiet and self-contained as always, she had brought down the men and provisioned the launches while Solomon had gone on to the commissioner's.
With the three of them beneath the awning sat the two Afghans, who greeted Hammer with grave dignity, while Omar had taken command of the other launch.
In all, there were some fifteen Arabs in both craft—and after leaving Melindi behind, fifteen very excellent Winchester rifles mysteriously appeared, with all the appurtenances belonging thereto.
Hammer suddenly appreciated the fact that these men were very different from the chattering natives, and were apt to be dangerous. When Solomon explained that his plan was to land Sara Helmuth and five men a mile this side of the ruins that they might join the Arabs behind the doctor's party, while he and Hammer would go straight for the camp with the other ten, the American voiced his thoughts.
"All very well, John; but wait a minute. Those two Germans back there at Melindi were the same two I kicked off the yacht. Jenson found them and didn't have much trouble persuading them to swear to his lies, evidently. But that only goes to show what a hold he and Krausz have on their men. There are eight askaris and six seamen up at the ruins now—fourteen in all, with Krausz and Jenson.
"I'm not afraid of being outnumbered, since we've got it all over them there; but I am afraid of a general row, and no mistake. If we get into a shooting scrape and half a dozen men get laid out, these Britishers will give it to us hot and heavy for going after Jenson on our own hook, to say nothing of the danger to Sara——"
"One minute, Mr. 'Ammer, sir. I'm werry strong wi' the governor, sir, and the government generally, so to speak, so I wouldn't worry none about a-shooting of all fourteen o' them 'ere men, wi' the doctor into the bargain, sir."
"Mind, I don't say to 'unt any such mess, Mr. 'Ammer; but if it comes—why, I says to meet it half-way. This 'ere's a partnership deal, sir—you for Jenson and me for the doctor; but so be as 'e gets out peaceable, why, let 'im go. What be you a-going to do wi' this Jenson?"
"Take him back to the Daphne and string him up, and explain to the authorities afterward," announced Hammer. "I'd have brought the engine-room crew if I'd known we were to go after Krausz hammer and tongs, like this. If Jenson resists, I'll shoot him."
To which intention Sara Helmuth made no objection whatsoever.
Now for the first time Solomon had a chance to interview his Afghans, for they had all been too worn out the night before to have any talk. The result of their mission, which Yar Hussein announced with no little pride, was embodied in the little sheepskin packet he had carried.
This, being opened, proved to contain some very well-copied plans which Akhbar Khan had located among the archives—though he did not say where or how. He was the locater and Yar Hussein the draftsman, it seemed, and the work had been copied line for line and word for word, even to the early seventeenth-century Portuguese text.
Solomon held them in his lap, Sara Helmuth and Hammer leaning over his shoulders as they inspected the plans and he explained them. The first was a rude map of the coast, which clearly showed the location of the fort and storehouses and barracoons; when erected, the latter buildings had been well defended by the position of the fort itself, though the coast seemed to have changed greatly.
There were three others showing the Melindi—spelled "Maleenda"—buildings, which Solomon tossed aside, but at the fifth and last he uttered a grunt of satisfaction. This, to Hammer's surprise, was labelled Fort San Joao.
"That 'ere was its first name," explained Solomon knowingly. "Accordin' to them papers o' Professor 'Elmuth's, it was changed to Fort St. Thomas after its destruction. You see, sir and miss, some o' them 'ere relics belonged to Saint Thomas—Didymus, I doubt it was—and as they was never dug up again the name just stuck to the place, so to speak. This 'ere'd be the place for Jenson, Mr. 'Ammer," and he chuckled again as he laid his finger on one of the squares in the corner of the plan.
As Solomon had told them before, the fort was merely a group of buildings with a wall around, much as were the barracoons and warehouses for less valuable goods. The corner to which he pointed was that farthest away from shore, and seemed to be separated from the fort proper by the angle of the corner bastion.
"Why?" asked the girl. "What was that, John?"
"This 'ere, miss, was a little room set above the ground, according to the plan. It was a prison—them Portuguese were main cruel, which was why they didn't last—and under this 'ere room was a stone pit full o' puff-adders."
Solomon went on to say that he had not seen this room when there before, as there was too much jungle to inspect the place closely; but the text, with the plans, explained its purpose fully.
In fact, it was not until a native king had perished in this snake-pit that the place was finally attacked and razed, with the help of the fleet from Muscat which had already taken Port Jesus, or Mombasa.
Suddenly, Hammer recollected Omar's wild tales about monkeys throwing skulls at him and pits full of snakes, and related what he could of the man's story.
Solomon nodded gravely, saying that there might still be snakes there, though the monkeys were probably imagination, and fully reassured Sara Helmuth that she would be in no danger through joining his Arabs and making camp in the ruins; and, in any case, puff-adders would hardly be encountered outside the pit.
Upon which, with the air of a man who has played his part exceeding well, Solomon stated that he was in need of rest and would take a nap until the run was finished.
Hammer had seen no sign of Jenson's launch ahead, for he had no glasses, and the secretary had obtained a good start. When Solomon had curled up on the bottom beneath the thwarts the American sat beside Sara Helmuth in the stern, as they had sat on that eventful night that seemed ages ago, when Baumgardner had paid for treachery with his life.
"Talk about Arabian Nights," laughed Hammer grimly, glancing back at Omar's launch in their wake, "I guess this is the limit, Sara! I've half a notion to use that snake-pit on Jenson after——"
"Don't, please!" She shivered despite the heat, then met his gaze and smiled. "I know you didn't mean it, Hammer, but it sounded anything but nice. Now tell me—I have been thinking about something during the past few days, and I wonder if—if this man Jenson could have had anything to do with my father's death?"
Hammer stared at her, trouble in his eyes.
"I don't know. The man is a regular viper; but though it has occurred to me, also, I rather fancy that he's not guilty of that, Sara. You see, he's hardly the sort of man who commits murder except when he's panic-stricken—a cornered rat, exactly, even to his face. He murdered Mohammed Bari in the hope of getting away from me, and he murdered Harcourt in blind panic, thinking he was discovered."
The girl looked pensive, and said:
"I'm glad you think that, Hammer; because, while I'm afraid I hate the man as much as you do, if I thought he had injured father in any way, I don't know just what I would do. No, I think you're right. He started out by lying about that horrible murder on board your yacht, didn't he? And he just got in deeper and deeper through his desperate efforts to get out until——"
"Until he's in too deep to ever get out now," concluded Hammer. "Shouldn't wonder if John's right in his doctrine of Kismet. Jenson's whole life, little and mean and full of lies, has been leading him up to this very point, it would seem. He hasn't met his punishment yet, but it's mighty close, seems to me."
"Yes. But isn't that always the way, Hammer? Isn't a man's life, and a woman's, always slowly leading up to some great moment? It has always seemed to me like a mosaic, in which every little action fits like a stone—insignificant in itself, and yet giving its tiny detail to the making of the whole, until the great moment of highest power or highest failure comes.
"It may not be very high, but I think it comes to everyone, banker or grocer's clerk, and whether it is power or failure depends largely on the structure of the mosaic. How do you like my philosophy?"
"I'm afraid it's very true," returned Hammer slowly, his voice low, his eyes gazing straight over the bow of the launch. Something in his tone struck the girl, for the underlying earnestness in her own voice crept into her eyes as she watched him.
The American's thoughts were not pleasant. It came to him that this argument of hers was indeed very sound, and he quailed before it. Jenson's whole life had been leading up to his greatest villainy; his own entire life had been leading up to—what? So with other men he knew, and women.
So with his own wife—her life a tissue of trifles, of petty vanities and unworthy ambitions, until it had culminated in finding a man after her own stamp, and her preferment of him to her husband.
Little things, all of them, yet when united all led irrevocably to some great valley of decision. Why, this serious-eyed girl had hit to the very heart of things!
So, never looking at her, he told her his story.
She listened, half-fascinated by the virility of him, half-awed by the fact that she had pierced to his soul unthinkingly. She watched the fine-lined face, whose rare smiles swept away its harshness; the clear eyes that frowned into the blaze of afternoon sun; the firm, almost too firm, mouth and chin and nose.
And as she watched, harkening to his low words, the faintest trace of a smile touched her lips, though in her eyes there was only a great compassion.
"So, you see, you hit near home, Sara," he concluded. "What my great moment will be there is no telling; but if it were to come soon I would be afraid—yes, afraid to meet it, I think. Harcourt met his great moment with a clean heart, like the splendid man he was; but my little moments have not been so good, so open to all the world, so fearless and honest as his."
She was silent an instant; then, "But they have been strong, Hammer! And better a devil than a fool! No; when that great moment of yours arrives I think it will be one of power, not of failure; I would like to see what happens when it does come."
A sudden blaze outbroke in the man, and he turned; but the words on his lips were interrupted.
"'Ere! 'Ere! Dang it, you've been and passed the place!"
Startled, he looked around to see Solomon awakened and hastily gaining his feet. It seemed that Hammer had passed the intended landing-place of Sara Helmuth by a good half-mile, very nearly reaching that of himself and Solomon, in fact; for, looking ahead, he could see a launch anchored and rocking lazily to the swells, while on the shore was the deserted boat.
He swept his launch around, bidding Omar shut oft power and wait where he was. As they had no boat, Solomon went into the bow and conned the shoal-water until, at his cry, Hammer shut off the engine.
A swift order sent five of the men over the side, up to their knees in water; and these took up Sara Helmuth and carried her to shore, where all vanished amid the trees a moment later, after a last wave of the hand.
"All right, Mr. 'Ammer!" cried Solomon, relaxing. "They'll be in camp in an hour, God willing."
"And in less than that time we'll either have our friend Jenson ready for the rope, or else we'll have a sweet scrap on our hands," added the American. But he was now thankful to John Solomon, for that sudden awakening had saved him from words which he might have sorely regretted.
Five minutes later the launch was at anchor, and Hammer, lowering himself from the arms of his bearers, saw the path to the ruins directly ahead of him.