"Stop!"
There was a new note in the voice of Krausz, and it brought Hammer around instantly. The other had followed him back from the hole, and was glaring at him with such mad eyes that instinctively the American took a step backward.
"You are not going away," said the big Saxon slowly, his eyes burning into those of Hammer. The band of muscle was deep crimson, and it was pulsating like a wild thing against the man's white brow. Hammer's foot struck against the limp form of Sara Helmuth, and the touch restored him from his panic.
"Eh? What's that?" he exclaimed, unbelieving.
"I say you are not going away—you and Adolf and Professor Helmuth, yess!"
"What's the matter with you?" demanded Hammer, thoroughly angry. "You promised that when——"
"Yess, and my promise I shall keep—but thiss way." Krausz gestured with his whip toward the hole. "I promised to set you free, nein?"
Between anger at the man and fear of what lay behind him, Hammer stared at him astounded. It had not occurred to him that Krausz would not perform his part of the agreement—but what did he mean by "thiss way"?
The big Saxon went on, his jaw pushed forward aggressively, his eyes fastened banefully on Hammer:
"Fools! Did you think that I would let you go, yess, to make of me a joke before all Europe? Ach, no! Am I, Sigurd Krausz, to be tricked and made a fool?"