“Why are they to be killed?” asked the detective, fencing for time.
“Each one has killed a man,” replied the priest. “They are robbers, as well as murderers. The laws of Shangore have no mercy on such as they. The festival of the Golden Scarab takes place to-morrow. These men would be cut to death at daybreak. If you kill them for me, your man that you seek shall be given up to you. But first I must see how your sticks are used, and how the little metal cases that make a noise are put into them.”
The whole plot was clear. Calaman meant to learn how the rifles were used for his own purposes. He had already taken possession of two thousand rounds of ammunition. If once he thoroughly comprehended the mechanism of the rifles, it would be good night to his stranger guests.
Nick Carter looked from the priest to the three men tied to the stakes, and seemed to be considering.
“Are you ready?” asked Calaman.
“No,” was the unexpected reply.
“Why?”
“Because I will not shoot at men who are tied,” declared Nick. “In my country we never do such things.”
The priest flamed into a fury.
“You will kill those men!” he roared.