em, the lieutenant and the ape-man watched
her.

"She is wonderful. Is she not?" murmured Smith-Oldwick.

"She is a German and a spy," replied Tarzan.

The Englishman turned quickly upon him. "What do you mean?" he
cried.

"I mean what I say," replied the ape-man. "She is a German and a
spy."

"I do not believe it!" exclaimed the aviator.

"You do not have to," Tarzan assured him. "It is nothing to me
what you believe. I saw her in conference with the Boche general
and his staff at the camp near Taveta. They all knew her and called
her by name and she handed him a paper. The next time I saw her
she was inside the British lines in disguise, and again I saw her
bearing word to a German officer at Wilhelmstal. She is a German
and a spy, but she is a woman and therefore I cannot destroy her."

"You really believe that what you say is true?" asked the young
lieutenant. "My God! I cannot believe it. She is so sweet and brave
and good."

The ape-man shrugged his shoulders. "She is brave," he said, "but
even Pamba, the rat, must have some good quality, but she is what
I have told you and therefore I hate her and you should hate her."

Lieutenant Harold Percy Smith-Oldwick buried his face in his hands.
"God forgive me," he said at last. "I cannot hate her."

The ape-man cast a contemptuous look at his companion and arose.
"Tarzan goes again to hunt," he said. "You have enough food for
two days. By that time he will return."

The two watched him until he had disappeared in the foliage of the
trees at the further side of the clearing.

When he had gone the girl felt a vague sense of apprehension that
she never experienced when Tarzan was present. The invisible menaces
lurking in the grim jungle seemed more real and much more imminent
now that the ape-man was no longer near. While he had been there
talking with them, the little thatched hut and its surrounding
thorn boma had seemed as safe a place as the world might afford.
She wished that he had remained--two days seemed an eternity in
contemplation-two days of constant fear, two days, every moment of
which would be fraught with danger. She turned toward her companion.

"I wish that he had remained," she said. "I always feel so much
safer when he is near. He is very grim and very terrible, and yet
I feel safer with him than with any man I ever have known. He seems
to dislike me and yet I know that he would let no harm befall me.
I cannot understand him."

"Neit