LITMIR.BIZ

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high above the floor, as a cat might shake a mouse.

      Jane turned in horrified surprise toward Tarzan.

      And, as she looked into his face, she saw the crimson band upon his forehead that she had seen that other day in far distant Africa, when Tarzan of the Apes had closed in mortal combat with the great anthropoid—Terkoz.

      She knew that murder lay in that savage heart, and with a little cry of horror she sprang forward to plead with the ape-man. But her fears were more for Tarzan than for Canler. She realized the stern retribution which justice metes to the murderer.

      Before she could reach them, however, Clayton had jumped to Tarzan's side and attempted to drag Canler from his grasp.

      With a single sweep of one mighty arm the Englishman was hurled across the room, and then Jane laid a firm white hand upon Tarzan's wrist, and looked up into his eyes.

      "For my sake," she said.

      The grasp upon Canler's throat relaxed.

      Tarzan looked down into the beautiful face before him.

      "Do you wish this to live?" he asked in surprise.

      "I do not wish him to die at your hands, my friend," she replied. "I do not wish you to become a murderer."

      Tarzan removed his hand from Canler's throat.

      "Do you release her from her promise?" he asked. "It is the price of your life."

      Canler, gasping for breath, nodded.

      "Will you go away and never molest her further?"

      Again the man nodded his head, his face distorted by fear of the death that had been so close.

      Tarzan released him, and Canler staggered toward the door. In another moment he was gone, and the terror-stricken preacher with him.

      Tarzan turned toward Jane.

      "May I speak with you for a moment, alone," he asked.

      The girl nodded and started toward the door leading to the narrow veranda of the little hotel. She passed out to await Tarzan and so did not hear the conversation which followed.

      "Wait," cried Professor Porter, as Tarzan was about to follow.

      The professor had been stricken dumb with surprise by the rapid developments of the past few minutes.

      "Before we go further, sir, I should like an explanation of the events which have just transpired. By what right, sir, did you interfere between my daughter and Mr. Canler? I had promised him her hand, sir, and regardless of our personal likes or dislikes, sir, that promise must be kept."

      "I interfered, Professor Porter," replied Tarzan, "because your daughter does not love Mr. Canler—she does not wish to marry him. That is enough for me to know."

      "You do not know what you have done," said Professor Porter. "Now he will doubtless refuse to marry her."

      "He most certainly will," said Tarzan, emphatically.

      "And further," added Tarzan, "you need not fear that your pride will suffer, Professor Porter, for you will be able to pay the Canler person what you owe him the moment you reach home."

      "Tut, tut, sir!" exclaimed Professor Porter. "What do you mean, sir?"

      "Your treasure has been found," said Tarzan.

      "What—what is that you are saying?" cried the professor. "You are mad, man. It cannot be."

      "It is, though. It was I who stole it, not knowing either its value or to whom it belonged. I saw the sailors bury it, and, ape-like, I had to dig it up and bury it again elsewhere. When D'Arnot told me what it was and what it meant to you I returned to the jungle and recovered it. It had caused so much crime and suffering and sorrow that D'Arnot thought it best not to attempt to bring the treasure itself on here, as had been my intention, so I have brought a letter of credit instead.

      "Here it is, Professor Porter," and Tarzan drew an envelope from his pocket and handed it to the astonished professor, "two hundred and forty-one thousand dollars. The treasure was most carefully appraised by experts, but lest there should be any question in your mind, D'Arnot himself bought it and is holding it for you, should you prefer the treasure to the credit."

      "To the already great burden of the obligations we owe you, sir," said Professor Porter, with trembling voice, "is now added this greatest of all services. You have given me the means to save my honor."

      Clayton, who had left the room a moment after Canler, now returned.

      "Pardon me," he said. "I think we had better try to reach town before dark and take the first train out of this forest. A native just rode by from the north, who reports that the fire is moving slowly in this direction."

      This announcement broke up further conversation, and the entire party went out to the waiting automobiles.

      Clayton, with Jane, the professor and Esmeralda occupied Clayton's car, while Tarzan took Mr. Philander in with him.

      "Bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Philander, as the car moved off after Clayton. "Who would ever have thought it possible! The last time I saw you you were a veritable wild man, skipping about among the branches of a tropical African forest, and now you are driving me along a Wisconsin road in a French automobile. Bless me! But it is most remarkable."

      "Yes," assented Tarzan, and then, after a pause, "Mr. Philander, do you recall any of the details of the finding and burying of three skeletons found in my cabin beside that African jungle?"

      "Very distinctly, sir, very distinctly," replied Mr. Philander.

      "Was there anything peculiar about any of those skeletons?"

      Mr. Philander eyed Tarzan narrowly.

      "Why do you ask?"

      "It means a great deal to me to know," replied Tarzan. "Your answer may clear up a mystery. It can do no worse, at any rate, than to leave it still a mystery. I have been entertaining a theory concerning those skeletons for the past two months, and I want you to answer my question to the best of your knowledge—were the three skeletons you buried all human skeletons?"

      "No," said Mr. Philander, "the smallest one, the one found in the crib, was the skeleton of an anthropoid ape."

      "Thank you," said Tarzan.

      In the car ahead, Jane was thinking fast and furiously. She had felt the purpose for which Tarzan had asked a few words with her, and she knew that she must be prepared to give him an answer in the very near future.

      He was not the sort of person one could put off, and somehow that very thought made her wonder if she did not really fear him.

      And could she love where she feared?

      She realized the spell that had been upon her in the depths of that far-off jungle, but there was no spell of enchantment now in prosaic Wisconsin.

      Nor did the immaculate young Frenchman appeal to the primal woman in her, as had the stalwart forest god.

      Did she love him? She did not know—now.

      She glanced at Clayton out of the corner of her eye. Was not here a man trained in the same school of environment in which she had been trained—a man with social position and culture such as she had been taught to consider as the prime essentials to congenial association?

      Did not her best judgment point to this young English nobleman, whose love she knew to be of the sort a civilized woman should crave, as the logical mate for such as herself?

      Could she love Clayton? She could see no reason why she could not. Jane was not coldly calculating by nature, but training, environment and heredity had all combined to teach her to reason even in matters of the heart.

      That she had been carried off her feet by the strength of the young giant when his great arms were about her in the distant African forest, and again today, in the Wisconsin woods, seemed to her only attributable to a temporary mental reversion to type on her part—to the psychological appeal of the primeval man to the primeval woman in her nature.

      If he should never touch her

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