The Afghans he was to pick up at Mombasa had been despatched to Goa by Solomon in the endeavour to learn something definite about the old fort; but whether they had done so or not Solomon did not know.
Nor could the American understand the other's choice of men. Why he should send Afghans on such an errand, why he should trust Potbelly and make use of him as he did, why he should seemingly put so much trust in natives and so little trust in white men, drew a series of questions from Hammer which forced Solomon to explain.
"White men is all werry well in their place, sir, but Africa ain't their place. Me men know me, Mr. 'Ammer, and 'as faith in me. White men can't 'elp from talking too much, sir; but it ain't in the nature of brown men to talk.
"Work a brown man all square and aboveboard, I says, and 'e'll curse ye for a bloody fool; but work 'im underhand, like what e's been used to for the last thousand years, and 'e'll fair go through fire and water for ye. What 'e loves is the game, sir—same as me. It ain't the money as I'm after, though I do say as money 'as its uses."
Which was all Hammer ever extracted from John Solomon on the matter of colour.
That night, after a long talk with Sara Helmuth, the American went out to the Daphne. He had not been able to nerve himself to the deed before this, but now installed himself in Harcourt's cabin and arranged with the chief engineer to sign on a crew at Mombasa as fast as the men could be picked up.
He was without money, practically, and doubted very much whether he would be able to make the yacht pay in future—for this, however, he made no plans; his first duty was to get hold of Jenson, and what came after that did not trouble him greatly.
At Mombasa he found the two Afghans without trouble. Both were heavily-bearded, stalwart men, of keen intelligence, and cousins; Akhbar Khan and Yar Hussein were alike, grave-eyed, dignified, green-turbaned, and dependable. Hammer concluded that John Solomon knew what he was about, after all.
His only business ashore was to get the two Afghans, and with them he returned to the waiting launch, provisioned and manned by Solomon's four Arabs, for the run up-coast.
He did not go near the club, and saw no one he knew until reaching the wharf. Here, however, he ran into a little Cockney, a waiter at the club the evening he had so gloriously awakened Mombasa.