of her companion frantically, and pointed toward the tall, almost naked figure of the ape-man as he stood revealed in the full light of the beast fires. "God, Carl," she whispered, in trembling tones, "look!"
"What's wrong, Flora?" inquired her companion. "I see only Esteban."
"It is not Esteban," hissed the girl. "It is Lord Greystoke himself—it is Tarzan of the Apes!"
"You are mad, Flora," replied the man, "it cannot be he."
"It is he, though," she insisted. "Do you suppose that I do not know him? Did I not work in his town house for years? Did I not see him nearly every day? Do you suppose that I do not know Tarzan of the Apes? Look at that red scar flaming on his forehead—I have heard the story of that scar and I have seen it burn scarlet when he was aroused to anger. It is scarlet now, and Tarzan of the Apes is angry."
"Well, suppose it is Tarzan of the Apes, what can he do?"
"You do not know him," replied the girl. "You do not guess the tremendous power he wields here—the power of life and death over man and beast. If he knew our mission here not one of us would ever reach the coast alive. The very fact that he is here now makes me believe that he may have discovered our purpose, and if he has, God help us—unless—unless"
"Unless what?" demanded the man.
