He could not know what was in Krausz's mind, or if the scientist had by this time heard of Harcourt's death. It was possible, indeed, that Jenson had carried his trickery through to the extent of deceiving his master, though Krausz was not a man to be easily deceived.
Now the camp hove in sight ahead, and to his surprise Hammer saw that work on the ruins had been abandoned. More, the hastily-constructed huts of the natives seemed deserted, while the sailor-overseers were sitting idly beneath a large tree.
But, on the hill-top above, he could see an askari standing sentinel, while five more were scattered about the camp. Of Jenson there was no sign, and Hammer guessed rightly enough that the secretary was inside the doctor's tent.
"This is great state in which to receive poor wayfarers," said Hammer dryly. "Ready for our ultimatum, doctor?"
The other strode on without answering, curtly bade them wait, disappeared within his own tent, and emerged a moment later with one of his black panatelas smoking mightily.
Already irritated by the manner of their reception, the American suddenly found himself furiously angry, and flung off the hand of the ever-watchful Solomon without ceremony.
"No, you've said your say, John, and got nothing for it. I'll talk to this brute and show him that we mean business."
With which he strode up to Krausz grimly and delivered his "ultimatum" without any preliminaries.
"You mind your eye, Krausz! You're here after stealing a girl's property and trying to bluff her with threats, but I'm not calling you to account for that. You're shielding a murderer here, and I want him. You tried to shelter him once before and got what was coming to you, but you hand over Jenson now or you'll learn what's what in a very different way."
"Who hass he murdered?" The other eyed him, puffing calmly.