"Well, Hammer, I trust you are satisfied that you will get justice done you? And let us hear no more 'American citizen' talk——"
"Is it customary here to allow an accused man to be heard in his own defence?" broke in Hammer quietly. He saw that he had started off badly, and that while Smith did not care a snap about the outcome of the case, he did care about the dignity of his position and the brand of justice which he was there to dispense.
"I'm sorry if I offended you at first, Mr. Smith, but I didn't quite understand the situation and was naturally indignant."
"Why—er—of course, Hammer," assented the other, still with his air of boredom, as he prepared to write. "Anything you may say, of course. No deuced use, though, I'll say frankly: you're bound to go to Nairobi for this thing——"
"Oh, then my accusers will go, too, of course?"
"Naturally," came the dry response. "And under the circumstances I'd advise you to change your plea there, Hammer."
"Thanks," smiled the American. Jenson, uneasy, was darting swift little glances at him, but he paid no heed to the secretary. "But I'd like to go on record as denying the whole affair, Mr. Smith. When does the Juba come in, may I ask?"
"She's due to-morrow night, and you'll go back on her the next morning."
Much as he disliked to show Jenson his cards, Hammer saw that he had no other choice. He did not want to leave on the Juba, and he hoped to delay matters until the arrival of Solomon, with Sara Helmuth.
If only Potbelly, or Omar ibn Kasim, rather, had understood that last signal of his! Surely Solomon could not be so very far away by now.