He turned swiftly to the nearest askari—the same who had freed Hammer.
"Go back to the camp and bring a rope—quick, you black swine!"
The man saluted, flung Hammer a helpless look, and disappeared. The other three watched, leaning on their rifles.
"What do you mean?" began the American, aghast before the terrible thought that had leaped into his brain. Krausz flung about on him, raging.
"Mean? What do I mean? American pig! Iss my work to be spoiled by thiss fräulein? No! Ach, but Adolf iss a devil! He betrays everyone, but he shall not betray Sigurd Krausz. No, nor you, American. I meant to kill you all, but now I have a better way, yess, and I shall my promise keep. Later I will come back, yess, and get the treasure and give it to the world—my treasure, my papers, my relics!
"Never hass so great a chance come—and it iss not to be perilled by you. So I tell you plainly, American, you shall not play with Sigurd Krausz."
Then, too late, Hammer realized that the look in the other's eyes was little short of madness. He cast a look around, but the jungle hedged them in, silent and merciless, with no sign of Solomon or aid.
But—what did the madman mean to do? He was crazed on the subject of his work, that was plain, and whether the jungle mania had unbalanced him or not, there was a fury in his eyes.
"What do you mean?" asked Hammer again. "Don't think you can get away with any dirty work, Krausz, or Solomon——"
"Bah! Do not joke with me. Listen—you saw that platform, American? Then I tell you that you and Adolf Jenson and Professor Helmuth, you shall stand there until you get tired. You shall be free, yess—but you cannot get up, and when you go down you will not play with Sigurd Krausz any——"