Finding the man staring at him, he nodded and would have passed on, but the fellow plucked his sleeve.
"Beg pardon, guv'nor, but you'd best cut and run for it. I heard two o' them nigger bobbies sayin' as 'ow they was lookin' for you up-town."
"Eh? I guess you've made a mistake, my man!" exclaimed the American. The other winked and sidled away hastily.
"Just a tip, guv'nor. Don't wyste no time——" and he was gone.
Laughing over the occurrence, and thinking that the man was drunk, Hammer dropped into the launch and the wharf was soon left behind.
He had decided not to go up on the Juba, as the launch would be of use to them and he could make a quicker run up in her. Solomon had a launch hired at Melindi, but another would not come amiss, he thought. Nor did it, as events proved.
The run to Melindi was uneventful in the extreme, and they made the river-mouth shortly after nine in the evening. Bidding the Arabs and Afghans come to the plantation with him, where there were a number of buildings in which they could find shelter. Hammer led the way at once.
To his surprise, the plantation-house was dark save for the servants' quarters, nor was there anyone to greet him.
Mystified and no little startled by the empty rooms, the American lit some of the lamps and soon had the house-boys on the jump.
The only information that he could elicit from them was that Potbelly had come that morning, and Solomon and Sara Helmuth had gone shortly after luncheon—where, no one knew or would say.