nce of the wrath and vengeance of a powerful
enemy.

"The Waziri," commented Tarzan with a grim smile.

"God bless them!" cried Jane Clayton.

"They cannot be far ahead of us," said Tarzan, "Basuli and the others.
The gold is gone and the jewels of Opar, Jane; but we have each other
and the Waziri--and we have love and loyalty and friendship. And what
are gold and jewels to these?"

"If only poor Mugambi lived," she replied, "and those other brave
fellows who sacrificed their lives in vain endeavor to protect me!"

In the silence of mingled joy and sorrow they passed along through the
familiar jungle, and as the afternoon was waning there came faintly to
the ears of the ape-man the murmuring cadence of distant voices.

"We are nearing the Waziri, Jane," he said. "I can hear them ahead of
us. They are going into camp for the night, I imagine."

A half hour later the two came upon a horde of ebon warriors which
Basuli had collected for his war of vengeance upon the raiders. With
them were the captured women of the tribe whom they had found in the
village of Achmet Zek, and tall, even among the giant Waziri, loomed a
familiar black form at the side of Basuli. It was Mugambi, whom Jane
had thought dead amidst the charred ruins of the bungalow.

Ah, such a reunion! Long into the night the dancing and the singing
and the laughter awoke the echoes of the somber wood. Again and again
were the stories of their various adventures retold. Again and once
again they fought their battles with savage beast and savage man, and
dawn was already breaking when Basuli, for the fortieth time, narrated
how he and a handful of his warriors had watched the battle for the
golden ingots which the Abyssinians of Abdul Mourak had waged against
the Arab raiders of Achmet Zek, and how, when the victors had ridden
away they had sneaked out of the river reeds and stolen away with the
precious ingots to hide them where no robber eye ever could discover
them.

Pieced out from the fragments of their various experiences with the
Belgian the truth concerning the malign activities of Albert Werper
became apparent. Only Lady Greystoke found aught to praise in the
conduct of the man, and it was difficult even for her to reconcile his
many heinous acts with this one evidence of chivalry and honor.

"Deep in the soul of every man," said Tarzan, "must lurk the germ of
righteousness. It was your own virtue, Jane, rather even than your
helple