So the days flew by until the Daphne had rounded Cape Guardafui and the last leg of the journey was begun, down the east coast of Africa. They were still three days out from Mombasa when Hammer, who had the second dog watch, went to Schlak's cabin on being relieved by Harcourt.
He wanted to ask the second officer about some detail of the chart; and since it was nearly dark, and he made no noise in his pumps, his approach must have been unheard.
As the door was slightly ajar, Hammer merely pushed it open with a word and stepped in. He heard one sharply-drawn breath, and in the gloom found himself facing Adolf Jenson, whose face was absolutely livid.
An instant, as he switched on the light, the American saw the body of Hans Schlak lying on the floor at his feet, a knife-shaft between the shoulders.
CHAPTER IV
WHO MURDERED HANS SCHLAK?
"My God! Don't look at me like that, sir—I didn't do it!"
Trembling in every limb, the secretary shrank back against the berth, staring up at Hammer with horrified eyes.
The American, to whom Jenson was repulsive, made no attempt to lay a finger on the man, but stood looking at him with sternly questioning eyes; palsied with fear, the fellow babbled out protestations of his innocence until suddenly Hammer waved him silent.
"That's enough from you. How long have you been here?"