Tarzan: The Adventures and the Works of Edgar Rice Burroughs - Edgar Rice Burroughs

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commenced turning the pages.

      Tarzan looked at the book in surprise. How did D'Arnot come to have his book?

      Presently D'Arnot stopped at a page on which were five tiny little smudges.

      He handed the open book to the policeman.

      "Are these imprints similar to mine or Monsieur Tarzan's or can you say that they are identical with either?" The officer drew a powerful glass from his desk and examined all three specimens carefully, making notations meanwhile upon a pad of paper.

      Tarzan realized now what was the meaning of their visit to the police officer.

      The answer to his life's riddle lay in these tiny marks.

      With tense nerves he sat leaning forward in his chair, but suddenly he relaxed and dropped back, smiling.

      D'Arnot looked at him in surprise.

      "You forget that for twenty years the dead body of the child who made those fingerprints lay in the cabin of his father, and that all my life I have seen it lying there," said Tarzan bitterly.

      The policeman looked up in astonishment.

      "Go ahead, captain, with your examination," said D'Arnot, "we will tell you the story later—provided Monsieur Tarzan is agreeable."

      Tarzan nodded his head.

      "But you are mad, my dear D'Arnot," he insisted. "Those little fingers are buried on the west coast of Africa."

      "I do not know as to that, Tarzan," replied D'Arnot. "It is possible, but if you are not the son of John Clayton then how in heaven's name did you come into that God forsaken jungle where no white man other than John Clayton had ever set foot?"

      "You forget—Kala," said Tarzan.

      "I do not even consider her," replied D'Arnot.

      The friends had walked to the broad window overlooking the boulevard as they talked. For some time they stood there gazing out upon the busy throng beneath, each wrapped in his own thoughts.

      "It takes some time to compare finger prints," thought D'Arnot, turning to look at the police officer.

      To his astonishment he saw the official leaning back in his chair hastily scanning the contents of the little black diary.

      D'Arnot coughed. The policeman looked up, and, catching his eye, raised his finger to admonish silence. D'Arnot turned back to the window, and presently the police officer spoke.

      "Gentlemen," he said.

      Both turned toward him.

      "There is evidently a great deal at stake which must hinge to a greater or lesser extent upon the absolute correctness of this comparison. I therefore ask that you leave the entire matter in my hands until Monsieur Desquerc, our expert returns. It will be but a matter of a few days."

      "I had hoped to know at once," said D'Arnot. "Monsieur Tarzan sails for America tomorrow."

      "I will promise that you can cable him a report within two weeks," replied the officer; "but what it will be I dare not say. There are resemblances, yet—well, we had better leave it for Monsieur Desquerc to solve."

      Chapter XXVII

      The Giant Again

      A taxicab drew up before an oldfashioned residence upon the outskirts of Baltimore.

      A man of about forty, well built and with strong, regular features, stepped out, and paying the chauffeur dismissed him.

      A moment later the passenger was entering the library of the old home.

      "Ah, Mr. Canler!" exclaimed an old man, rising to greet him.

      "Good evening, my dear Professor," cried the man, extending a cordial hand.

      "Who admitted you?" asked the professor.

      "Esmeralda."

      "Then she will acquaint Jane with the fact that you are here," said the old man.

      "No, Professor," replied Canler, "for I came primarily to see you."

      "Ah, I am honored," said Professor Porter.

      "Professor," continued Robert Canler, with great deliberation, as though carefully weighing his words, "I have come this evening to speak with you about Jane.

      "You know my aspirations, and you have been generous enough to approve my suit."

      Professor Archimedes Q. Porter fidgeted in his armchair. The subject always made him uncomfortable. He could not understand why. Canler was a splendid match.

      "But Jane," continued Canler, "I cannot understand her. She puts me off first on one ground and then another. I have always the feeling that she breathes a sigh of relief every time I bid her good-by."

      "Tut, tut," said Professor Porter. "Tut, tut, Mr. Canler. Jane is a most obedient daughter. She will do precisely as I tell her."

      "Then I can still count on your support?" asked Canler, a tone of relief marking his voice.

      "Certainly, sir; certainly, sir," exclaimed Professor Porter. "How could you doubt it?"

      "There is young Clayton, you know," suggested Canler. "He has been hanging about for months. I don't know that Jane cares for him; but beside his title they say he has inherited a very considerable estate from his father, and it might not be strange,—if he finally won her, unless—" and Canler paused.

      "Tut—tut, Mr. Canler; unless—what?"

      "Unless, you see fit to request that Jane and I be married at once," said Canler, slowly and distinctly.

      "I have already suggested to Jane that it would be desirable," said Professor Porter sadly, "for we can no longer afford to keep up this house, and live as her associations demand."

      "What was her reply?" asked Canler.

      "She said she was not ready to marry anyone yet," replied Professor Porter, "and that we could go and live upon the farm in northern Wisconsin which her mother left her.

      "It is a little more than self-supporting. The tenants have always made a living from it, and been able to send Jane a trifle beside, each year. She is planning on our going up there the first of the week. Philander and Mr. Clayton have already gone to get things in readiness for us."

      "Clayton has gone there?" exclaimed Canler, visibly chagrined. "Why was I not told? I would gladly have gone and seen that every comfort was provided."

      "Jane feels that we are already too much in your debt, Mr. Canler," said Professor Porter.

      Canler was about to reply, when the sound of footsteps came from the hall without, and Jane entered the room.

      "Oh, I beg your pardon!" she exclaimed, pausing on the threshold. "I thought you were alone, papa."

      "It is only I, Jane," said Canler, who had risen, "won't you come in and join the family group? We were just speaking of you."

      "Thank you," said Jane, entering and taking the chair Canler placed for her. "I only wanted to tell papa that Tobey is coming down from the college tomorrow to pack his books. I want you to be sure, papa, to indicate all that you can do without until fall. Please don't carry this entire library to Wisconsin, as you would have carried it to Africa, if I had not put my foot down."

      "Was Tobey here?" asked Professor Porter.

      "Yes, I just left him. He and Esmeralda are exchanging religious experiences on the back porch now."

      "Tut, tut, I must see him at once!" cried the professor. "Excuse me just a moment, children," and the old man hastened from the room.

      As soon as he was out of earshot Canler turned to Jane.

      "See here, Jane," he said bluntly. "How long is this thing going on like this? You haven't refused to marry me, but you haven't promised either. I want to get the license tomorrow, so that we can be married quietly before you leave for Wisconsin. I don't care for any fuss or feathers, and I'm sure you don't either."

      The girl turned cold, but she held her head

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