"How did Dr. Krausz know that I had appealed to Mr. Solomon for aid?"
"He didn't, that I know of," retorted the American, losing patience. "What on earth is all this talk about that little fat man, anyway? You say you've never met him, then you say that he's the only man you can trust and to bring him along to vouch for me. If I do, who's going to vouch for him, I'd like to know?"
Her eyes dilated slowly, and Hammer was under the impression that his words had had some effect. He was soon undeceived, however.
"Oh, is he a little fat man with big blue eyes?" and there was amazement in her voice.
"He is," returned Hammer ungraciously. "Also, he's in the employ of Dr. Krausz as supercargo—same as me, if you please. Also, I think he's the biggest liar unhung. I can't quite see the connection between you and him, professor."
"Then—he was the man who came on the Mombasa——" she began as if speaking to herself, stopping abruptly and gazing at Hammer as if he had surprised her into revealing some secret. He paid slight attention to her words, for he was trying to find the clue which so persistently eluded his efforts.
Certainly his own statements were a good deal more lucid than hers, and were not so conflicting by half. Yet she seemed to think that he and Krausz were leagued against her in some way and that the ring was some kind of a trick.
She claimed never to have met Solomon, yet described him and seemed to trust him implicitly! Small wonder that the American groaned to himself in despair.
Sara Helmuth was still standing, however, and now she looked down at him with angry eyes; but Hammer thought that seldom had he seen so magnificent a girl even though her mind might be a trifle unbalanced.
"You seem to be insensible to my invitation to depart, Mr. Hammer," and there was cold rage in her voice; "and since you have been clever enough to worm most of the secret out of me, I'll tell you the rest in order to get rid of you.