To the surprise of Hammer, the secretary clambered into the launch without a word more, and she followed him. When the chop-boxes had been put aboard and Mohammed Bari had followed them, Hammer went over the side also and curtly ordered the two boys to row back to the shore.
"Do you understand this engine, Miss Helmuth?" he asked meekly. Since this girl from California had shown herself adept at so many other things, it was more than possible that she could take care of the launch engine, so that he was not surprised when she nodded, handed back the revolver, and stooped over the fly-wheel.
An adjustment of oil and gasoline pins, and with the first crank the engine went off into a steady splutter that rose to a roar beneath her hand.
Hammer made room for her in the stern-sheets and took the tiller-ropes himself, for the launch steered from a wheel at the bow, with another amidships, but he could easily steer by the ropes from the stern.
"Baumgardner, get up that anchor. Help him, Mohammed."
The boat rocked as the little anchor was torn loose and then swung away. By the time the boatswain had got the anchor in-board the launch was standing down the coast: looking back, Hammer could see nothing save jungle, over which the sun was lowering redly, for the afternoon was hard upon its close.
"Well, it's good-bye to the doctor and his ruins," he said cheerfully to the girl at his side. To his amazement, he saw a mist in her eyes; then she turned and looked at him, her hand extended.
"I ask your pardon, Mr. Hammer."
The touch of her cool hand thrilled him, but before he could speak she went on, her voice low.
"I am sorry that I misjudged you so terribly, but under the circumstances I was unable to trust anyone. Then, when I heard the shots and came came out to see you with Adolf tied up, I knew that Potbelly had been right after all, and——"