Nor was he, as the American found out soon enough. They had covered perhaps half the trail, and had just crossed an open space amid the bamboo thickets, when Solomon, four yards ahead of Hammer, vanished around an abrupt turn in the trail.
The American pushed hastily after him, and upon rounding the same bend was brought up in startling fashion.
Solomon had halted, and directly in front of him Hammer saw Dr. Krausz calmly seated on a camp-stool, with that murderous, double-barrelled shot-gun of his covering the approach. So, then, their launch had been seen! Behind the doctor stood two gigantic Masai askaris, their black faces stolid.
For a moment, Krausz looked at the two men before him, his heavy face impassive, but that ribbon of muscle beating, beating, beating endlessly on his brow. He was perfectly sober, the American was glad to note, though none the less dangerous on that account; and when at last he broke the silence his voice was impassive as his face, as though he were exercising a great restraint upon himself.
"So you have come back, Mr. Hammer! And what are you doing in this man's company, Mr. Solomon—you who used to work for Professor Helmuth, yess?"
In his last words contempt flashed out, but Solomon's eyes only opened a trifle wider as he met the sullen, menacing gaze of Krausz. By tacit consent Hammer allowed his companion to do the talking.
Solomon's answer was characteristic, however. Before replying, he put a hand inside his coat, paying no heed to the swift movement of the doctor's shot-gun, and drew out his red, morocco-bound notebook. Then, wetting his thumb, he opened it and shuffled over the leaves until he found the place desired.
"Ah, 'ere it be, all ship-shape and proper!" He held it out, and Krausz took it, but without relaxing his vigilance. At a word from him the two Masai brought up their rifles while he glanced down at the notebook.
"Werry sorry I am, Dr. Krausz, sir," went on the little man apologetically, "for to bring this 'ere account to your notice, but you asked a question, sir, and so I answers according. If a man can't tell 'is business honest like, I says, why, 'e ain't no business 'aving any business, says I. If you'll just turn over the page, sir, I made so bold as to set down Mr. 'Ammer's account wi' Jenson, keepin' same separate and distinct from the account o' Solomon and 'Elmuth."
But Krausz was paying no heed to the words. As he read, his heavy jaw snapped shut, and a dark flush rose slowly to his brow, where the muscle was pulsating terribly.