The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Monster Men, by Edgar Rice Burroughs

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The music boxes for 3 year olds under 10 dollarsMonster Men

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

Contents

1
THE RIFT

As he dropped the last grisly fragment of the dismembered and mutilated bodyinto the small vat of nitric acid that was to devour every trace of the horridevidence which might easily send him to the gallows, the man sank weakly into achair and throwing his body forward upon his great, teak desk buried his facein his arms, breaking into dry, moaning sobs.

Beads of perspiration followed the seams of his high, wrinkled forehead,replacing the tears which might have lessened the pressure upon his overwroughtnerves. His slender frame shook, as with ague, and at times was racked by aconvulsive shudder. A sudden step upon the stairway leading to his workshopbrought him trembling and wide eyed to his feet, staring fearfully at thelocked and bolted door.

Although he knew perfectly well whose the advancing footfalls were, he was allbut overcome by the madness of apprehension as they came softly nearer andnearer to the barred door. At last they halted before it, to be followed by agentle knock.

“Daddy!” came the sweet tones of a girl’s voice.

The man made an effort to take a firm grasp upon himself that no tell-taleevidence of his emotion might be betrayed in his speech.

“Daddy!” called the girl again, a trace of anxiety in her voicethis time. “What isthe matter with you, and what areyoudoing? You’ve been shut up in that hateful old room for three days nowwithout a morsel to eat, and in all likelihood without a wink of sleep.You’ll kill yourself with your stuffy old experiments.”

The man’s face softened.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he replied in a wellcontrolled voice. “I’ll soon be through now—soon bethrough—and then we’ll go away for a long vacation—for a longvacation.”

“I’ll give you until noon, Daddy,” said the girl in a voicewhich carried a more strongly defined tone of authority than her father’ssoft drawl, “and then I shall come into that room, if I have to use anaxe, and bring you out—do you understand?”

Professor Maxon smiled wanly. He knew that his daughter was equal to herthreat.

“All right, sweetheart, I’ll be through by noon for sure—bynoon for sure. Run along and play now, like a good little girl.”

Virginia Maxon shrugged her shapely shoulders and shook her head hopelessly atthe forbidding panels of the door.

“My dolls are all dressed for the day,” she cried, “andI’m tired of making mud pies—I want you to come out and play withme.” But Professor Maxon did not reply—he had returned to view hisgrim operations, and the hideousness of them had closed his ears to the sweettones of the girl’s voice.

As she turned to retrace her steps to the floor below Miss Maxon still shookher head.

“Poor old Daddy,” she mused, “were I a thousand years old,wrinkled and toothless, he would still look upon me as his baby girl.”

If you chance to be an alumnus of Cornell you may recall Professor ArthurMaxon, a quiet, slender, white-haired gentleman, who for several years was anassistant professor in one of the departments of natural science. Wealthy byinheritance, he had chosen the field of education for his life work solely froma desire to be of some material benefit to mankind since the meager salarywhich accompanied his professorship was not of sufficient import to influencehim in the slightest degree.

Always keenly interested in biology, his almost unlimited means had permittedhim to undertake, in secret, a series of daring experiments which had carriedhim so far in advance of the biologists of his day that he had, while otherswere still groping blindly for the secret of life, actually reproduced bychemical means the great phenomenon.

Fully alive to the gravity and responsibilities of his marvellous discovery hehad kept the results of his experimentation, and even the experimentsthemselves, a profound secret not only from his colleagues, but from his onlydaughter, who heretofore had shared his every hope and aspiration.

It was the very success of his last and most pretentious effort that had placedhim in the horrifying predicament in which he now found himself—with thecorpse of what was apparently a human being in his workshop and no availableexplanation that could possibly be acceptable to a matter-of-fact andunscientific police.

Had he told them the truth they would have laughed at him. Had he said:“This is not a human being that you see, but the remains of a chemicallyproduced counterfeit created in my own laboratory,” they would havesmiled, and either hanged him or put him away with the other criminally insane.

This phase of the many possibilities which he had realized might be contingentupon even the partial success of his work alone had escaped his consideration,so that the first wave of triumphant exultation with which he had viewed thefinished result of this last experiment had been succeeded by overwhelmingconsternation as he saw the thing which he had created gasp once or twice withthe feeble spark of life with which he had endowed it, and expire—leavingupon his hands the corpse of what was, to all intent and purpose, a humanbeing, albeit a most grotesque and misshapen thing.

Until nearly noon Professor Maxon was occupied in removing the remaining stainsand evidences of his gruesome work, but when he at last turned the key in thedoor of his workshop it was to leave behind no single trace of the successfulresult of his years of labor.

The following afternoon found him and Virginia crossing the station platform toboard the express for New York. So quietly had their plans been made that not afriend was at the train to bid them farewell—the scientist felt that hecould not bear the strain of attempting explanations at this time.

But there were those there who recognized them, and one especially who notedthe lithe, trim figure and beautiful face of Virginia Maxon though he did notknow even the name of their possessor. It was a tall well built young man whonudged one of his younger companions as the girl crossed the platform to enterher Pullman.

“I say, Dexter,” he exclaimed, “who is that beauty?”

The one addressed turned in the direction indicated by his friend.

“By jove!” he exclaimed. “Why it’s Virginia Maxon andthe professor, her father. Now where do you suppose they’re going?”

“I don’t know—now,” replied the first speaker, TownsendJ. Harper, Jr., in a half whisper, “but I’ll bet you a new car thatI find out.”

A week later, with failing health and shattered nerves, Professor Maxon sailedwith his daughter for a long ocean voyage, which he hoped would aid him inrapid recuperation, and permit him to forget the nightmare memory of thosethree horrible days and nights in his workshop.

He believed that he had reached an unalterable decision never again to meddlewith the mighty, awe inspiring secrets of creation; but with returning healthand balance he found himself viewing his recent triumph with feelings ofrenewed hope and anticipation.

The morbid fears superinduced by the shock following the sudden demise of thefirst creature of his experiments had given place to a growing desire tofurther prosecute his labors until enduring success had crowned his effortswith an achievement which he might exhibit with pride to the scientific world.

His recent disastrous success had convinced him that neither Ithaca nor anyother abode of civilization was a safe place to continue his experiments, butit was not until their cruising had brought them among the multitudinousislands of the East Indies that the plan occurred to him that he finallyadopted—a plan the outcome of which could he then have foreseen wouldhave sent him scurrying to the safety of his own country with the daughter whowas to bear the full brunt of the horrors it entailed.

They were steaming up the China Sea when the idea first suggested itself, andas he sat idly during the long, hot days the thought grew upon him, expandinginto a thousand wonderful possibilities, until it became crystalized into whatwas a little short of an obsession.

The result was that at Manila, much to Virginia’s surprise, he announcedthe abandonment of the balance of their purposed voyage, taking immediatereturn passage to Singapore. His daughter did not question him as to the causeof this change in plans, for since those three days that her father had kepthimself locked in his workroom at home the girl had noticed a subtle change inher parent—a marked disinclination to share with her his every confidenceas had been his custom since the death of her mother.

While it grieved her immeasurably she was both too proud and too hurt to suefor a reestablishment of the old relations. On all other topics than hisscientific work their interests were as mutual as formerly, but by what seemeda manner of tacit agreement this subject was taboo. And so it was that theycame to Singapore without the girl having the slightest conception of herfather’s plans.

Here they spent nearly a month, during which time Professor Maxon was dailyengaged in interviewing officials, English residents and a motley horde ofMalays and Chinamen.

Virginia met socially several of the men with whom her father was engaged butit was only at the last moment that one of them let drop a hint of the purposeof the month’s activity. When Virginia was present the conversationseemed always deftly guided from the subject of her father’s immediatefuture, and she was not long in discerning that it was in no sense throughaccident that this was true. Thereafter her wounded pride made easy the task ofthose who seemed combined to keep her in ignorance.

It was a Dr. von Horn, who had been oftenest with her father, who gave her thefirst intimation of what was forthcoming. Afterward, in recollecting theconversation, it seemed to Virginia that the young man had been directed tobreak the news to her, that her father might be spared the ordeal. It wasevident then that he expected opposition, but the girl was too loyal to let vonHorn know if she felt other than in harmony with the proposal, and too proud toevince by surprise the fact that she was not wholly conversant with its everydetail.

“You are glad to be leaving Singapore so soon?” he had asked,although he knew that she had not been advised that an early departure wasplanned.

“I am rather looking forward to it,” replied Virginia.

“And to a protracted residence on one of the Pamarung Islands?”continued von Horn.

“Why not?” was her rather non-committal reply, though she had notthe remotest idea of their location.

Von Horn admired her nerve though he rather wished that she would ask somequestions—it was difficult making progress in this way. How could heexplain the plans when she evinced not the slightest sign that she was notalready entirely conversant with them?

“We doubt if the work will be completed under two or three years,”answered the doctor. “That will be a long time in which to be isolatedupon a savage little speck of land off the larger but no less savage Borneo. Doyou think that your bravery is equal to the demands that will be made uponit?”

Virginia laughed, nor was there the slightest tremor in its note.

“I am equal to whatever fate my father is equal to,” she said,“nor do I think that a life upon one of these beautiful little islandswould be much of a hardship—certainly not if it will help to promote thesuccess of his scientific experiments.”

She used the last words on a chance that she might have hit upon the truereason for the contemplated isolation from civilization. They had served theirpurpose too in deceiving von Horn who was now half convinced that ProfessorMaxon must have divulged more of their plans to his daughter than he had ledthe medical man to believe. Perceiving her advantage from the expression on theyoung man’s face, Virginia followed it up in an endeavor to elicit thedetails.

The result of her effort was the knowledge that on the second day they were tosail for the Pamarung Islands upon a small schooner which her father hadpurchased, with a crew of Malays and lascars, and von Horn, who had served inthe American navy, in command. The precise point of destination was stillundecided—the plan being to search out a suitable location upon one ofthe many little islets which dot the western shore of the Macassar Strait.

Of the many men Virginia had met during the month at Singapore von Horn hadbeen by far the most interesting and companionable. Such time as he could findfrom the many duties which had devolved upon him in the matter of obtaining andoutfitting the schooner, and signing her two mates and crew of fifteen, hadbeen spent with his employer’s daughter.

The girl was rather glad that he was to be a member of their little company,for she had found him a much travelled man and an interesting talker with noneof the, to her, disgusting artificialities of the professional ladies’man. He talked to her as he might have talked to a man, of the things thatinterest intelligent people regardless of sex.

There was never any suggestion of familiarity in his manner; nor in his choiceof topics did he ever ignore the fact that she was a young girl. She had feltentirely at ease in his society from the first evening that she had met him,and their acquaintance had grown to a very sensible friendship by the time ofthe departure of the Ithaca—the rechristened schooner which was to carrythem away to an unguessed fate.

The voyage from Singapore to the Islands was without incident. Virginia took akeen delight in watching the Malays and lascars at their work, telling von Hornthat she had to draw upon her imagination but little to picture herself acaptive upon a pirate ship—the half naked men, the gaudy headdress, theearrings, and the fierce countenances of many of the crew furnishing only toorealistically the necessary savage setting.

A week spent among the Pamarung Islands disclosed no suitable site for theprofessor’s camp, nor was it until they had cruised up the coast severalmiles north of the equator and Cape Santang that they found a tiny island a fewmiles off the coast opposite the mouth of a small river—an island whichfulfilled in every detail their requirements.

It was uninhabited, fertile and possessed a clear, sweet brook which had itssource in a cold spring in the higher land at the island’s center. Hereit was that the Ithaca came to anchor in a little harbor, while her crew undervon Horn, and the Malay first mate, Bududreen, accompanied Professor Maxon insearch of a suitable location for a permanent camp.

The cook, a harmless old Chinaman, and Virginia were left in sole possession ofthe Ithaca.

Two hours after the departure of the men into the jungle Virginia heard thefall of axes on timber and knew that the site of her future home had beenchosen and the work of clearing begun. She sat musing on the strange freakwhich had prompted her father to bury them in this savage corner of the globe;and as she pondered there came a wistful expression to her eyes, and anunwonted sadness drooped the corners of her mouth.

Of a sudden she realized how wide had become the gulf between them now. Soimperceptibly had it grown since those three horrid days in Ithaca just priorto their departure for what was to have been but a few months’ cruisethat she had not until now comprehended that the old relations of open,good-fellowship had gone, possibly forever.

Had she needed proof of the truth of her sad discovery it had been enough topoint to the single fact that her father had brought her here to this littleisland without making the slightest attempt to explain the nature of hisexpedition. She had gleaned enough from von Horn to understand that someimportant scientific experiments were to be undertaken; but what their natureshe could not imagine, for she had not the slightest conception of the successthat had crowned her father’s last experiment at Ithaca, although she hadfor years known of his keen interest in the subject.

The girl became aware also of other subtle changes in her father. He had longsince ceased to be the jovial, carefree companion who had shared with her herevery girlish joy and sorrow and in whom she had confided both the trivial andmomentous secrets of her childhood. He had become not exactly morose, butrather moody and absorbed, so that she had of late never found an opportunityfor the cozy chats that had formerly meant so much to them both. There had beentoo, recently, a strange lack of consideration for herself that had wounded hermore than she had imagined. Today there had been a glaring example of it in hishaving left her alone upon the boat without a single Europeancompanion—something that he would never have thought of doing a fewmonths before.

As she sat speculating on the strange change which had come over her father hereyes had wandered aimlessly along the harbor’s entrance; the low reefthat protected it from the sea, and the point of land to the south, thatprojected far out into the strait like a gigantic index finger pointing towardthe mainland, the foliage covered heights of which were just visible above thewestern horizon.

Presently her attention was arrested by a tossing speck far out upon therolling bosom of the strait. For some time the girl watched the object until atlength it resolved itself into a boat moving head on toward the island. Latershe saw that it was long and low, propelled by a single sail and many oars, andthat it carried quite a company.

Thinking it but a native trading boat, so many of which ply the southern seas,Virginia viewed its approach with but idle curiosity. When it had come towithin half a mile of the anchorage of the Ithaca, and was about to enter themouth of the harbor Sing Lee’s eyes chanced to fall upon it. On theinstant the old Chinaman was electrified into sudden and astounding action.

“Klick! Klick!” he cried, running toward Virginia. “Gob’low, klick.”

“Why should I go below, Sing?” queried the girl, amazed by thedemeanor of the cook.

“Klick! Klick!” he urged grasping her by the arm—halfleading, half dragging her toward the companion-way. “Plilates! Mlalayplilates—Dyak plilates.”

“Pirates!” gasped Virginia. “Oh Sing, what can we do?”

“You go b’low. Mebbyso Sing flighten ’em. Shoot cannon. Blinghelp. Maxon come klick. Bling men. Chase’m ’way,” explainedthe Chinaman. “But plilates see ’em pletty white girl,” heshrugged his shoulders and shook his head dubiously, “then old Sing nocan flighten ’em ’way.”

The girl shuddered, and crouching close behind Sing hurried below. A momentlater she heard the boom of the old brass six pounder which for many years hadgraced the Ithaca’s stern. In the bow Professor Maxon had mounted amodern machine gun, but this was quite beyond Sing’s simple gunnery. TheChinaman had not taken the time to sight the ancient weapon carefully, but agleeful smile lit his wrinkled, yellow face as he saw the splash of the ballwhere it struck the water almost at the side of the prahu.

Sing realized that the boat might contain friendly natives, but he had cruisedthese waters too many years to take chances. Better kill a hundred friends, hethought, than be captured by a single pirate.

At the shot the prahu slowed up, and a volley of musketry from her crewsatisfied Sing that he had made no mistake in classifying her. Her fire fellshort as did the ball from the small cannon mounted in her bow.

Virginia was watching the prahu from one of the cabin ports. She saw themomentary hesitation and confusion which followed Sing’s first shot, andthen to her dismay she saw the rowers bend to their oars again and the prahumove swiftly in the direction of the Ithaca.

It was apparent that the pirates had perceived the almost defenseless conditionof the schooner. In a few minutes they would be swarming the deck, for poor oldSing would be entirely helpless to repel them. If Dr. von Horn were only there,thought the distracted girl. With the machine gun alone he might keep them off.

At the thought of the machine gun a sudden resolve gripped her. Why not man itherself? Von Horn had explained its mechanism to her in detail, and on oneoccasion had allowed her to operate it on the voyage from Singapore. With thethought came action. Running to the magazine she snatched up a feed-belt, andin another moment was on deck beside the astonished Sing.

The pirates were skimming rapidly across the smooth waters of the harbor,answering Sing’s harmless shots with yells of derision and wild, savagewar cries. There were, perhaps, fifty Dyaks and Malays—fierce, barbaricmen; mostly naked to the waist, or with war-coats of brilliant colors. Thesavage headdress of the Dyaks, the long, narrow, decorated shields, theflashing blades of parang and kris sent a shudder through the girl, so closethey seemed beneath the schooner’s side.

“What do? What do?” cried Sing in consternation. “Gob’low. Klick!” But before he had finished his exhortation Virginiawas racing toward the bow where the machine gun was mounted. Tearing the coverfrom it she swung the muzzle toward the pirate prahu, which by now was nearlywithin range above the vessel’s side—a moment more and she would betoo close to use the weapon upon the pirates.

Virginia was quick to perceive the necessity for haste, while the pirates atthe same instant realized the menace of the new danger which confronted them. Ascore of muskets belched forth their missiles at the fearless girl behind thescant shield of the machine gun. Leaden pellets rained heavily upon herprotection, or whizzed threateningly about her head—and then she got thegun into action.

At the rate of fifty a minute, a stream of projectiles tore into the bow of theprahu when suddenly a richly garbed Malay in the stern rose to his feet wavinga white cloth upon the point of his kris. It was the Rajah Muda Saffir—hehad seen the girl’s face and at the sight of it the blood lust in hisbreast had been supplanted by another.

At sight of the emblem of peace Virginia ceased firing. She saw the tall Malayissue a few commands, the oarsmen bent to their work, the prahu came about,making off toward the harbor’s entrance. At the same moment there was ashot from the shore followed by loud yelling, and the girl turned to see herfather and von Horn pulling rapidly toward the Ithaca.

2
THE HEAVY CHEST

Virginia and Sing were compelled to narrate the adventure of the afternoon adozen times. The Chinaman was at a loss to understand what had deterred thepirates at the very threshold of victory. Von Horn thought that they had seenthe reinforcements embarking from the shore, but Sing explained that that wasimpossible since the Ithaca had been directly between them and the point atwhich the returning crew had entered the boats.

Virginia was positive that her fusillade had frightened them into a hastyretreat, but again Sing discouraged any such idea when he pointed to the factthat another instant would have carried the prahu close to the Ithaca’sside and out of the machine gun’s radius of action.

The old Chinaman was positive that the pirates had some ulterior motive forsimulating defeat, and his long years of experience upon pirate infested watersgave weight to his opinion. The weak spot in his argument was his inability tosuggest a reasonable motive. And so it was that for a long time they were leftto futile conjecture as to the action that had saved them from a bloodyencounter with these bloodthirsty sea wolves.

For a week the men were busy constructing the new camp, but never again wasVirginia left without a sufficient guard for her protection. Von Horn wasalways needed at the work, for to him had fallen the entire direction ofmatters of importance that were at all of a practical nature. Professor Maxonwished to watch the building of the houses and the stockade, that he mightoffer such suggestions as he thought necessary, and again the girl noticed herfather’s comparative indifference to her welfare.

She had been shocked at his apathy at the time of the pirate attack, andchagrined that it should have been necessary for von Horn to have insisted upona proper guard being left with her thereafter.

The nearer the approach of the time when he might enter again upon thoseexperiments which had now been neglected for the better part of a year the moreself absorbed and moody became the professor. At times he was scarcely civil tothose about him, and never now did he have a pleasant word or a caress for thedaughter who had been his whole life but a few short months before.

It often seemed to Virginia when she caught her father’s eyes upon herthat there was a gleam of dislike in them, as though he would have been glad tohave been rid of her that she might not in any way embarrass or interfere withhis work.

The camp was at last completed, and on a Saturday afternoon all the heavierarticles from the ship had been transported to it. On the following Monday thebalance of the goods was to be sent on shore and the party were to transfertheir residence to their new quarters.

Late Sunday afternoon a small native boat was seen rounding the point at theharbor’s southern extremity, and after a few minutes it drew alongsidethe Ithaca. There were but three men in it—two Dyaks and a Malay. Thelatter was a tall, well built man of middle age, of a sullen and degradedcountenance. His garmenture was that of the ordinary Malay boatman, but therewas that in his mien and his attitude toward his companions which belied hislowly habiliments.

In answer to von Horn’s hail the man asked if he might come aboard andtrade; but once on the deck it developed that he had brought nothing wherewithto trade. He seemed not the slightest disconcerted by this discovery, statingthat he would bring such articles as they wished when he had learned what theirrequirements were.

The ubiquitous Sing was on hand during the interview, but from hisexpressionless face none might guess what was passing through the tortuouschannels of his Oriental mind. The Malay had been aboard nearly half an hourtalking with von Horn when the mate, Bududreen, came on deck, and it was Singalone who noted the quickly concealed flash of recognition which passed betweenthe two Malays.

The Chinaman also saw the gleam that shot into the visitor’s eye asVirginia emerged from the cabin, but by no word or voluntary outward sign didthe man indicate that he had even noticed her. Shortly afterward he left,promising to return with provisions the following day. But it was to be monthsbefore they again saw him.

That evening as Sing was serving Virginia’s supper he asked her if shehad recognized their visitor of the afternoon.

“Why no, Sing,” she replied, “I never saw him before.”

“Sh!” admonished the celestial. “No talkee so strong, walleehave ear all same labbit.”

“What do you mean, Sing?” asked the girl in a low voice. “Howperfectly weird and mysterious you are. Why you make the cold chills run up myspine,” she ended, laughing. But Sing did not return her smile as was hiscustom.

“You no lememba tallee Lajah stand up wavee lite clothee in plilate boat,ah?” he urged.

“Oh, Sing,” she cried, “I do indeed! But unless you hadreminded me I should never have thought to connect him with our visitor oftoday—they do look very much alike, don’t they?”

“Lookeelike! Ugh, they all samee one man. Sing know. You lookee out,Linee,” which was the closest that Sing had ever been able to come topronouncing Virginia.

“Why should I look out? He doesn’t want me,” said the girl,laughingly.

“Don’t you bee too damee sure ’bout lat, Linee,” wasSing’s inelegant but convincing reply, as he turned toward his galley.

The following morning the party, with the exception of three Malays who wereleft to guard the Ithaca, set out for the new camp. The journey was up the bedof the small stream which emptied into the harbor, so that although fifteen menhad passed back and forth through the jungle from the beach to the camp everyday for two weeks, there was no sign that human foot had ever crossed thenarrow strip of sand that lay between the dense foliage and the harbor.

The gravel bottom of the rivulet made fairly good walking, and as Virginia wasborne in a litter between two powerful lascars it was not even necessary thatshe wet her feet in the ascent of the stream to the camp. The distance wasshort, the center of the camp being but a mile from the harbor, and less thanhalf a mile from the opposite shore of the island which was but two miles atits greatest breadth, and two and a quarter at its greatest length.

At the camp Virginia found that a neat clearing had been made upon a littletableland, a palisade built about it, and divided into three parts; the mostnortherly of which contained a small house for herself and her father, anotherfor von Horn, and a common cooking and eating house over which Sing was topreside.

The enclosure at the far end of the palisade was for the Malay and lascar crewand there also were quarters for Bududreen and the Malay second mate. Thecenter enclosure contained Professor Maxon’s workshop. This compartmentof the enclosure Virginia was not invited to inspect, but as members of thecrew carried in the two great chests which the professor had left upon theIthaca until the last moment, Virginia caught a glimpse of the two buildingsthat had been erected within this central space—a small, square housewhich was quite evidently her father’s laboratory, and a long, lowthatched shed divided into several compartments, each containing a rude bunk.She wondered for whom they could be intended. Quarters for all the party hadalready been arranged for elsewhere, nor, thought she, would her father wish tohouse any in such close proximity to his workshop, where he would desireabsolute quiet and freedom from interruption. The discovery perplexed her not alittle, but so changed were her relations with her father that she would notquestion him upon this or any other subject.

As the two chests were being carried into the central campong, Sing, who wasstanding near Virginia, called her attention to the fact that Bududreen was oneof those who staggered beneath the weight of the heavier burden.

“Bludleen, him mate. Why workee alsame lascar boy? Eh?” ButVirginia could give no reason.

“I am afraid you don’t like Bududreen, Sing,” she said.“Has he ever harmed you in any way?”

“Him? No, him no hurt Sing. Sing poor,” with which more or lessenigmatical rejoinder the Chinaman returned to his work. But he muttered muchto himself the balance of the day, for Sing knew that a chest that strainedfour men in the carrying could contain but one thing, and he knew thatBududreen was as wise in such matters as he.

For a couple of months the life of the little hidden camp went on peacefullyand without exciting incident. The Malay and lascar crew divided their timebetween watch duty on board the Ithaca, policing the camp, and cultivating alittle patch of clearing just south of their own campong.

There was a small bay on the island’s east coast, only a quarter of amile from camp, in which oysters were found, and one of the Ithaca’sboats was brought around to this side of the island for fishing. Bududreenoften accompanied these expeditions, and on several occasions the lynx-eyedSing had seen him returning to camp long after the others had retired for thenight.

Professor Maxon scarcely ever left the central enclosure. For days and nightsat a time Virginia never saw him, his meals being passed in to him by Singthrough a small trap door that had been cut in the partition wall of the“court of mystery” as von Horn had christened the section of thecamp devoted to the professor’s experimentations.

Von Horn himself was often with his employer, as he enjoyed the latter’scomplete confidence, and owing to his early medical training was well fitted toact as a competent assistant; but he was often barred from the workshop, and atsuch times was much with Virginia.

The two took long walks through the untouched jungle, exploring their littleisland, and never failing to find some new and wonderful proof ofNature’s creative power among its flora and fauna.

“What a marvellous thing is creation,” exclaimed Virginia as sheand von Horn paused one day to admire a tropical bird of unusually brilliantplumage. “How insignificant is man’s greatest achievement besidethe least of Nature’s works.”

“And yet,” replied von Horn, “man shall find Nature’ssecret some day. What a glorious accomplishment for him who first succeeds. Canyou imagine a more glorious consummation of a man’s life work—yourfather’s, for example?”

The girl looked at von Horn closely.

“Dr. von Horn,” she said, “pride has restrained me fromasking what was evidently intended that I should not know. For years my fatherhas been interested in an endeavor to solve the mystery of life—that hewould ever attempt to utilize the secret should he have been so fortunate as todiscover it had never occurred to me. I mean that he should try to usurp thefunctions of the Creator I could never have believed, but my knowledge of him,coupled with what you have said, and the extreme lengths to which he has goneto maintain absolute secrecy for his present experiments can only lead to oneinference; and that, that his present work, if successful, would have resultsthat would not be countenanced by civilized society or government. Am Iright?”

Von Horn had attempted to sound the girl that he might, if possible, discoverher attitude toward the work in which her father and he were engaged. He hadsucceeded beyond his hopes, for he had not intended that she should guess somuch of the truth as she had. Should her interest in the work have provedfavorable it had been his intention to acquaint her fully with the marvelloussuccess which already had attended their experiments, and to explain theirhopes and plans for the future, for he had seen how her father’s attitudehad hurt her and hoped to profit himself by reposing in her the trust andconfidence that her father denied her.

And so it was that her direct question left him floundering in a sea ofembarrassment, for to tell her the truth now would gain him no favor in hereyes, while it certainly would lay him open to the suspicion and distrust ofher father should he learn of it.

“I cannot answer your question, Miss Maxon,” he said, finally,“for your father’s strictest injunction has been that I divulge tono one the slightest happening within the court of mystery. Remember that I amin your father’s employ, and that no matter what my personal convictionsmay be regarding the work he has been doing I may only act with loyalty to hislightest command while I remain upon his payroll. That you are here,” headded, “is my excuse for continuing my connection with certain things ofwhich my conscience does not approve.”

The girl glanced at him quickly. She did not fully understand the motive forhis final avowal, and a sudden intuition kept her from questioning him. She hadlearned to look upon von Horn as a very pleasant companion and a goodfriend—she was not quite certain that she would care for any change intheir relations, but his remark had sowed the seed of a new thought in her mindas he had intended that it should.

When von Horn returned to the court of mystery, he narrated to Professor Maxonthe gist of his conversation with Virginia, wishing to forestall anything whichthe girl might say to her father that would give him an impression that vonHorn had been talking more than he should. Professor Maxon listened to thenarration in silence. When von Horn had finished, he cautioned him againstdivulging to Virginia anything that took place within the inner campong.

“She is only a child,” he said, “and would not understand theimportance of the work we are doing. All that she would be able to see is theimmediate moral effect of these experiments upon the subjectsthemselves—she would not look into the future and appreciate the immenseadvantage to mankind that must accrue from a successful termination of ourresearch. The future of the world will be assured when once we havedemonstrated the possibility of the chemical production of a perfectrace.”

“Number One, for example,” suggested von Horn.

Professor Maxon glanced at him sharply.

“Levity, Doctor, is entirely out of place in the contemplation of themagnificent work I have already accomplished,” said the professor tartly.“I admit that Number One leaves much to be desired—much to bedesired; but Number Two shows a marked advance along certain lines, and I amsure that tomorrow will divulge in experiment Number Three such strides as willforever silence any propensity toward scoffing which you may nowentertain.”

“Forgive me, Professor,” von Horn hastened to urge. “I didnot intend to deride the wonderful discoveries which you have made, but it isonly natural that we should both realize that Number One is not beautiful. Toone another we may say what we would not think of suggesting tooutsiders.”

Professor Maxon was mollified by this apology, and turned to resume his watchbeside a large, coffin-shaped vat. For a while von Horn was silent. There wasthat upon his mind which he had wished to discuss with his employer sincemonths ago, but the moment had never arrived which seemed at all propitious,nor did it appear likely ever to arrive. So the doctor decided to broach thesubject now, as being psychologically as favorable a time as any.

“Your daughter is far from happy, Professor,” he said, “nordo I feel that, surrounded as we are by semi-savage men, she is entirelysafe.”

Professor Maxon looked up from his vigil by the vat, eyeing von Horn closely.

“Well?” he asked.

“It seemed to me that had I a closer relationship I might better assistin adding to her happiness and safety—in short, Professor, I should likeyour permission to ask Virginia to marry me.”

There had been no indication in von Horn’s attitude toward the girl thathe loved her. That she was beautiful and intelligent could not be denied, andso it was small wonder that she might appeal strongly to any man, but von Hornwas quite evidently not of the marrying type. For years he had roved the worldin search of adventure and excitement. Just why he had left America and hishigh place in the navy he never had divulged; nor why it was that for sevenyears he had not set his foot upon ground which lay beneath the authority ofUncle Sam.

Sing Lee who stood just without the trap door through which he was about topass Professor Maxon’s evening meal to him could not be blamed foroverhearing the conversation, though it may have been culpable in him in makingno effort to divulge his presence, and possibly equally unpraiseworthy, as wellas lacking in romance, to attribute the doctor’s avowal to his knowledgeof the heavy chest.

As Professor Maxon eyed the man before replying to his abrupt request, von Hornnoted a strange and sudden light in the older man’s eyes—asomething which he never before had seen there and which caused anuncomfortable sensation to creep over him—a manner of bristling that wasakin either to fear or horror, von Horn could not tell which.

Then the professor arose from his seat and came very close to the younger man,until his face was only a few inches from von Horn’s.

“Doctor,” he whispered in a strange, tense voice, “you aremad. You do not know what you ask. Virginia is not for such as you. Tell methat she does not know of your feelings toward her. Tell me that she does notreciprocate your love. Tell me the truth, man.” Professor Maxon seizedvon Horn roughly by both shoulders, his glittering eyes glaring terribly intothe other’s.

“I have never spoken to her of love, Professor,” replied von Hornquietly, “nor do I know what her sentiments toward me may be. Nor do Iunderstand, sir, what objections you may have to me—I am of a very oldand noble family.” His tone was haughty but respectful.

Professor Maxon released his hold upon his assistant, breathing a sigh ofrelief.

“I am glad,” he said, “that it has gone no further, for itmust not be. I have other, nobler aspirations for my daughter. She must wed aperfect man—none such now exists. It remains for me to bring forth theideal mate for her—nor is the time far distant. A few more weeks and weshall see such a being as I have long dreamed.” Again the queer lightflickered for a moment in the once kindly and jovial eyes of the scientist.

Von Horn was horrified. He was a man of little sentiment. He could in coldblood have married this girl for the wealth he knew that she would inherit; butthe thought that she was to be united with such athing—“Lord! It is horrible,” and his mind picturedthe fearful atrocity which was known as Number One.

Without a word he turned and left the campong. A moment later Sing’sknock aroused Professor Maxon from the reverie into which he had fallen, and hestepped to the trap door to receive his evening meal.

3
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

One day, about two weeks later, von Horn and the professor were occupiedclosely with their work in the court of mystery. Developments were coming inriotous confusion. A recent startling discovery bade fare to simplify andexpedite the work far beyond the fondest dreams of the scientist.

Von Horn’s interest in the marvellous results that had been obtained waslittle short of the professor’s—but he foresaw a very differentoutcome of it all, and by day never moved without a gun at either hip, and bynight both of them were beside him.

Sing Lee, the noonday meal having been disposed of, set forth with rod, stringand bait to snare gulls upon the beach. He moved quietly through the jungle,his sharp eyes and ears always alert for anything that might savor of theunusual, and so it was that he saw the two men upon the beach, while they didnot see him at all.

They were Bududreen and the same tall Malay whom Sing had seen twicebefore—once in splendid raiment and commanding the pirate prahu, andagain as a simple boatman come to the Ithaca to trade, but without the goods tocarry out his professed intentions.

The two squatted on the beach at the edge of the jungle a short distance abovethe point at which Sing had been about to emerge when he discovered them, sothat it was but the work of a moment or two for the Chinaman to creepstealthily through the dense underbrush to a point directly above them and notthree yards from where they conversed in low tones—yet sufficiently loudthat Sing missed not a word.

“I tell you, Bududreen, that it will be quite safe,” the tall Malaywas saying. “You yourself tell me that none knows of the whereabouts ofthese white men, and if they do not return your word will be accepted as totheir fate. Your reward will be great if you bring the girl to me, and if youdoubt the loyalty of any of your own people a kris will silence them aseffectually as it will silence the white men.”

“It is not fear of the white men, oh, Rajah Muda Saffir, that detersme,” said Bududreen, “but how shall I know that after I have cometo your country with the girl I shall not myself be set upon and silenced witha golden kris—there be many that will be jealous of the great service Ihave done for the mighty rajah.”

Muda Saffir knew perfectly well that Bududreen had but diplomatically expresseda fear as to his own royal trustworthiness, but it did not anger him, since thecharge was not a direct one; but what he did not know was of the heavy chestand Bududreen’s desire to win the price of the girl and yet be able tosave for himself a chance at the far greater fortune which he knew lay beneaththat heavy oaken lid.

Both men had arisen now and were walking across the beach toward a small,native canoe in which Muda Saffir had come to the meeting place. They were outof earshot before either spoke again, so that what further passed between themSing could not even guess, but he had heard enough to confirm the suspicions hehad entertained for a long while.

He did not fish for gulls that day. Bududreen and Muda Saffir stood talkingupon the beach, and the Chinaman did not dare venture forth for fear they mightsuspect that he had overheard them. If old Sing Lee knew his Malays, he wasalso wise enough to give them credit for knowing their Chinamen, so he waitedquietly in hiding until Muda Saffir had left, and Bududreen returned to camp.

Professor Maxon and von Horn were standing over one of the six vats that werearranged in two rows down the center of the laboratory. The professor had beenmore communicative and agreeable today than for some time past, and theirconversation had assumed more of the familiarity that had marked it during thefirst month of their acquaintance at Singapore.

“And what of these first who are so imperfect?” asked von Horn.“You cannot take them into civilization, nor would it be right to leavethem here upon this island. What will you do with them?”

Professor Maxon pondered the question for a moment.

“I have given the matter but little thought,” he said at length.“They are but the accidents of my great work. It is unfortunate that theyare as they are, but without them I could have never reached the perfectionthat I am sure we are to find here,” and he tapped lovingly upon theheavy glass cover of the vat before which he stood. “And this is but thebeginning. There can be no more mistakes now, though I doubt if we can everimprove upon that which is so rapidly developing here.” Again he passedhis long, slender hand caressingly over the coffin-like vat at the head ofwhich was a placard bearing the words, Number Thirteen.

“But the others, Professor!” insisted von Horn. “We mustdecide. Already they have become a problem of no small dimensions. YesterdayNumber Five desired some plantains that I had given to Number Seven. I tried toreason with him, but, as you know, he is mentally defective, and for answer herushed at Number Seven to tear the coveted morsel from him. The result was abattle royal that might have put to shame two Bengal tigers. Twelve istractable and intelligent. With his assistance and my bull whip I succeeded inseparating them before either was killed. Your greatest error was in strivingat first for such physical perfection. You have overdone it, with the resultthat the court of mystery is peopled by a dozen brutes of awful muscularity,and scarcely enough brain among the dozen to equip three properly.”

“They are as they are,” replied the professor. “I shall dofor them what I can—when I am gone they must look to themselves. I cansee no way out of it.”

“What you have given you may take away,” said von Horn, in a lowtone.

Professor Maxon shuddered. Those three horrid days in the workshop at Ithacaflooded his memory with all the gruesome details he had tried for so manymonths to forget. The haunting ghosts of the mental anguish that had left himan altered man—so altered that there were times when he had feared forhis sanity!

“No, no!” he almost shouted. “It would be murder. Theyare—”

“They are things,” interrupted von Horn. “They are nothuman—they are not even beast. They are terrible, soulless creatures. Youhave no right to permit them to live longer than to substantiate your theory.None but us knows of their existence—no other need know of their passing.It must be done. They are a constant and growing menace to us all, but most ofall to your daughter.”

A cunning look came into the professor’s eyes.

“I understand,” he said. “The precedent once established, allmust perish by its edict—even those which may not be grotesque orbestial—even this perfect one,” and he touched again the vat,“and thus you would rid yourself of rival suitors. But no!” he wenton in a high, trembling voice. “I shall not be led to thus compromisemyself, and be thwarted in my cherished plan. Be this one what he may he shallwed my daughter!”

The man had raised himself upon his toes as he reached his climax—hisclenched hand was high above his head—his voice fairly thundered out thefinal sentence, and with the last word he brought his fist down upon the vatbefore him. In his eyes blazed the light of unchained madness.

Von Horn was a brave man, but he shuddered at the maniacal ferocity of theolder man, and shrank back. The futility of argument was apparent, and heturned and left the workshop.

Sing Lee was late that night. In fact he did not return from his fruitlessquest for gulls until well after dark, nor would he vouchsafe any explanationof the consequent lateness of supper. Nor could he be found shortly after theevening meal when Virginia sought him.

Not until the camp was wrapped in the quiet of slumber did Sing Leereturn—stealthy and mysterious—to creep under cover of a moonlessnight to the door of the workshop. How he gained entrance only Sing Lee knows,but a moment later there was a muffled crash of broken glass within thelaboratory, and the Chinaman had slipped out, relocked the door, and scurriedto his nearby shack. But there was no occasion for his haste—no other earthan his had heard the sound within the workshop.

It was almost nine the following morning before Professor Maxon and von Hornentered the laboratory. Scarcely had the older man passed the doorway than hedrew up his hands in horrified consternation. Vat Number Thirteen lay dashed tothe floor—the glass cover was broken to a million pieces—a sticky,brownish substance covered the matting. Professor Maxon hid his face in hishands.

“God!” he cried. “It is all ruined. Three more days wouldhave—”

“Look!” cried von Horn. “It is not too soon.”

Professor Maxon mustered courage to raise his eyes from his hands, and there hebeheld, seated in a far corner of the room a handsome giant, physicallyperfect. The creature looked about him in a dazed, uncomprehending manner. Agreat question was writ large upon his intelligent countenance. Professor Maxonstepped forward and took him by the hand.

“Come,” he said, and led him toward a smaller room off the mainworkshop. The giant followed docilely, his eyes roving about the room—thepitiful questioning still upon his handsome features. Von Horn turned towardthe campong.

Virginia, deserted by all, even the faithful Sing, who, cheated of his sport onthe preceding day, had again gone to the beach to snare gulls, became restlessof the enforced idleness and solitude. For a time she wandered about the littlecompound which had been reserved for the whites, but tiring of this she decidedto extend her stroll beyond the palisade, a thing which she had never beforedone unless accompanied by von Horn—a thing both he and her father hadcautioned her against.

“What danger can there be?” she thought. “We know that theisland is uninhabited by others than ourselves, and that there are no dangerousbeasts. And, anyway, there is no one now who seems to care what becomes of me,unless—unless—I wonder if he does care. I wonder if I care whetheror not he cares. Oh, dear, I wish I knew,” and as she soliloquized shewandered past the little clearing and into the jungle that lay behind thecampong.

As von Horn and Professor Maxon talked together in the laboratory before theupsetting of vat Number Thirteen, a grotesque and horrible creature had slunkfrom the low shed at the opposite side of the campong until it had crouched atthe flimsy door of the building in which the two men conversed. For a while itlistened intently, but when von Horn urged the necessity for dispatchingcertain “terrible, soulless creatures” an expression ofintermingled fear and hatred convulsed the hideous features, and like a greatgrizzly it turned and lumbered awkwardly across the campong toward theeasterly, or back wall of the enclosure.

Here it leaped futilely a half dozen times for the top of the palisade, andthen trembling and chattering in rage it ran back and forth along the base ofthe obstacle, just as a wild beast in captivity paces angrily before the barsof its cage.

Finally it paused to look once more at the senseless wood that barred itsescape, as though measuring the distance to the top. Then the eyes roamed aboutthe campong to rest at last upon the slanting roof of the thatched shed whichwas its shelter. Presently a slow idea was born in the poor, malformed brain.

The creature approached the shed. He could just reach the saplings that formedthe frame work of the roof. Like a huge sloth he drew himself to the roof ofthe structure. From here he could see beyond the palisade, and the wild freedomof the jungle called to him. He did not know what it was but in its leafy wallhe perceived many breaks and openings that offered concealment from thecreatures who were plotting to take his life.

Yet the wall was not fully six feet from him, and the top of it at least fivefeet above the top of the shed—those who had designed the campong hadbeen careful to set this structure sufficiently far from the palisade toprevent its forming too easy an avenue of escape.

The creature glanced fearfully toward the workshop. He remembered the cruelbull whip that always followed each new experiment on his part that did notcoincide with the desires of his master, and as he thought of von Horn a nastygleam shot his mismated eyes.

He tried to reach across the distance between the roof and the palisade, and inthe attempt lost his balance and nearly precipitated himself to the groundbelow. Cautiously he drew back, still looking about for some means to cross thechasm. One of the saplings of the roof, protruding beyond the palm leaf thatch,caught his attention. With a single wrench he tore it from its fastenings.Extending it toward the palisade he discovered that it just spanned the gap,but he dared not attempt to cross upon its single slender strand.

Quickly he ripped off a half dozen other poles from the roof, and laying themside by side, formed a safe and easy path to freedom. A moment more and he satastride the top of the wall. Drawing the poles after him, he dropped them oneby one to the ground outside the campong. Then he lowered himself to liberty.

Gathering the saplings under one huge arm he ran, lumberingly, into the jungle.He would not leave evidence of the havoc he had wrought; the fear of the bullwhip was still strong upon him. The green foliage closed about him and thepeaceful jungle gave no sign of the horrid brute that roamed its shadowedmazes.

As von Horn stepped into the campong his quick eye perceived the havoc that hadbeen wrought with the roof at the east end of the shed. Quickly he crossed tothe low structure. Within its compartments a number of deformed monsterssquatted upon their haunches, or lay prone upon the native mats that coveredthe floor.

As the man entered they looked furtively at the bull whip which trailed fromhis right hand, and then glanced fearfully at one another as though questioningwhich was the malefactor on this occasion.

Von Horn ran his eyes over the hideous assemblage.

“Where is Number One?” he asked, directing his question toward athing whose forehead gave greater promise of intelligence than any of hiscompanions.

The one addressed shook his head.

Von Horn turned and made a circuit of the campong. There was no sign of themissing one and no indication of any other irregularity than the demolishedportion of the roof. With an expression of mild concern upon his face heentered the workshop.

“Number One has escaped into the jungle, Professor,” he said.

Professor Maxon looked up in surprise, but before he had an opportunity toreply a woman’s scream, shrill with horror, smote upon their startledears.

Von Horn was the first to reach the campong of the whites. Professor Maxon wasclose behind him, and the faces of both were white with apprehension. Theenclosure was deserted. Not even Sing was there. Without a word the two mensprang through the gateway and raced for the jungle in the direction from whichthat single, haunting cry had come.

Virginia Maxon, idling beneath the leafy shade of the tropical foliage, becamepresently aware that she had wandered farther from the campong than she hadintended. The day was sultry, and the heat, even in the dense shade of thejungle, oppressive. Slowly she retraced her steps, her eyes upon the ground,her mind absorbed in sad consideration of her father’s increasingmoodiness and eccentricity.

Possibly it was this very abstraction which deadened her senses to the nearapproach of another. At any rate the girl’s first intimation that she wasnot alone came when she raised her eyes to look full into the horridcountenance of a fearsome monster which blocked her path toward camp.

The sudden shock brought a single involuntary scream from her lips. And who canwonder! The thing thrust so unexpectedly before her eyes was hideous in theextreme. A great mountain of deformed flesh clothed in dirty, white cottonpajamas! Its face was of the ashen hue of a fresh corpse, while the white hairand pink eyes denoted the absence of pigment; a characteristic of albinos.

One eye was fully twice the diameter of the other, and an inch above thehorizontal plane of its tiny mate. The nose was but a gaping orifice above adeformed and twisted mouth. The thing was chinless, and its small, foreheadlesshead surrounded its colossal body like a cannon ball on a hill top. One arm wasat least twelve inches longer than its mate, which was itself long inproportion to the torso, while the legs, similarly mismated and terminating inhuge, flat feet that protruded laterally, caused the thing to lurch fearfullyfrom side to side as it lumbered toward the girl.

A sudden grimace lighted the frightful face as the grotesque eyes fell uponthis new creature. Number One had never before seen a woman, but the sight ofthis one awoke in the unplumbed depths of his soulless breast a great desire tolay his hands upon her. She was very beautiful. Number One wished to have herfor his very own; nor would it be a difficult matter, so fragile was she, togather her up in those great, brute arms and carry her deep into the jungle farout of hearing of the bull-whip man and the cold, frowning one who wascontinually measuring and weighing Number One and his companions, the while hescrutinized them with those strange, glittering eyes that frightened one evenmore than the cruel lash of the bull whip.

Number One lurched forward, his arms outstretched toward the horror strickengirl. Virginia tried to cry out again—she tried to turn and run; but thehorror of her impending fate and the terror that those awful features inducedleft her paralyzed and helpless.

The thing was almost upon her now. The mouth was wide in a hideous attempt tosmile. The great hands would grasp her in another second—and then therewas a sudden crashing of the underbrush behind her, a yellow, wrinkled face anda flying pig-tail shot past her, and the brave old Sing Lee grappled with themighty monster that threatened her.

The battle was short—short and terrible. The valiant Chinaman sought theashen throat of his antagonist, but his wiry, sinewy muscles were as reedsbeneath the force of that inhuman power that opposed them. Holding the girl atarm’s length in one hand, Number One tore the battling Chinaman from himwith the other, and lifting him bodily above his head, hurled him stunned andbleeding against the bole of a giant buttress tree. Then lifting Virginia inhis arms once more he dived into the impenetrable mazes of the jungle thatlined the more open pathway between the beach and camp.

4
A NEW FACE

As Professor Maxon and von Horn rushed from the workshop to their own campong,they neglected, in their haste, to lock the door between, and for the firsttime since the camp was completed it stood unlatched and ajar.

The professor had been engaged in taking careful measurements of the head ofhis latest experiment, the while he coached the young man in the firstrudiments of spoken language, and now the subject of his labors found himselfsuddenly deserted and alone. He had not yet been without the four walls of theworkshop, as the professor had wished to keep him from association with thegrotesque results of his earlier experiments, and now a natural curiositytempted him to approach the door through which his creator and the man with thebull whip had so suddenly disappeared.

He saw before him a great walled enclosure roofed by a lofty azure dome, andbeyond the walls the tops of green trees swaying gently in the soft breezes.His nostrils tasted the incense of fresh earth and growing things. For thefirst time he felt the breath of Nature, free and unconfined, upon his brow.

He drew his giant frame to its full height and drank in the freedom and thesweetness of it all, filling his great lungs to their fullest; and with thefirst taste he learned to hate the close and stuffy confines of his prison.

His virgin mind was filled with wonder at the wealth of new impressions whichsurged to his brain through every sense. He longed for more, and the opengateway of the campong was a scarce needed invitation to pass to the wide worldbeyond. With the free and easy tread of utter unconsciousness of self, hepassed across the enclosure and stepped out into the clearing which lay betweenthe palisade and the jungle.

Ah, here was a still more beautiful world! The green leaves nodded to him, andat their invitation he came and the jungle reached out its million arms toembrace him. Now before him, behind, on either side there was naught butglorious green beauty shot with splashes of gorgeous color that made him gaspin wonderment.

Brilliant birds rose from amidst it all, skimming hither and thither above hishead—he thought that the flowers and the birds were the same, and when hereached out and plucked a blossom, tenderly, he wondered that it did notflutter in his hand. On and on he walked, but slowly, for he must not miss asingle sight in the strange and wonderful place; and then, of a sudden, thequiet beauty of the scene was harshly broken by the crashing of a monsterthrough the underbrush.

Number Thirteen was standing in a little open place in the jungle when thediscordant note first fell upon his ears, and as he turned his head in thedirection of the sound he was startled at the hideous aspect of the thing whichbroke through the foliage before him.

What a horrid creature! But on the same instant his eyes fell upon anotherborne in the arms of the terrible one. This one was different—verydifferent,—soft and beautiful and white. He wondered what it all meant,for everything was strange and new to him; but when he saw the eyes of thelovely one upon him, and her arms outstretched toward him, though he did notunderstand the words upon her lips, he knew that she was in distress. Somethingtold him that it was the ugly thing that carried her that was the author of hersuffering.

Virginia Maxon had been half unconscious from fright when she suddenly saw awhite man, clothed in coarse, white, native pajamas, confronting her and themisshapen beast that was bearing her away to what frightful fate she could butconjecture.

At the sight of the man her voice returned with returning hope, and she reachedher arms toward him, calling upon him to save her. Although he did not respondshe thought that he understood for he sprang toward them before her appeal wasscarce uttered.

As before, when Sing had threatened to filch his new possession from him,Number One held the girl with one hand while he met the attack of this newassailant with the other; but here was very different metal than had succumbedto him before.

It is true that Number Thirteen knew nothing whatever of personal combat, butNumber One had but little advantage of him in the matter of experience, whilethe former was equipped with great natural intelligence as well as steelmuscles no whit less powerful than his deformed predecessor.

So it was that the awful giant found his single hand helpless to cope with thestrength of his foeman, and in a brief instant felt powerful fingers clutchingat his throat. Still reluctant to surrender his hold upon his prize, he beatfutilely at the face of his enemy, but at last the agony of choking compelledhim to drop the girl and grapple madly with the man who choked him with onehand and rained mighty and merciless blows upon his face and head with theother.

His captive sank to the ground, too weak from the effects of nervous shock toescape, and with horror-filled eyes watched the two who battled over her. Shesaw that her would-be rescuer was young and strong featured—all togethera very fine specimen of manhood; and to her great wonderment it was soonapparent that he was no unequal match for the great mountain of muscle that hefought.

Both tore and struck and clawed and bit in the frenzy of mad, untutored strife,rolling about on the soft carpet of the jungle almost noiselessly except fortheir heavy breathing and an occasional beast-like snarl from Number One. Forseveral minutes they fought thus until the younger man succeeded in gettingboth hands upon the throat of his adversary, and then, choking relentlessly, heraised the brute with him from the ground and rushed him fiercely backwardagainst the stem of a tree. Again and again he hurled the monstrous thing uponthe unyielding wood, until at last it hung helpless and inert in his clutches,then he cast it from him, and without another glance at it turned toward thegirl.

Here was a problem indeed. Now that he had won her, what was he to do with her?He was but an adult child, with the brain and brawn of a man, and the ignoranceand inexperience of the new-born. And so he acted as a child acts, in imitationof what it has seen others do. The brute had been carrying the lovely creature,therefore that must be the thing for him to do, and so he stooped and gatheredVirginia Maxon in his great arms.

She tried to tell him that she could walk after a moment’s rest, but itwas soon evident that he did not understand her, as a puzzled expression cameto his face and he did not put her down as she asked. Instead he stoodirresolute for a time, and then moved slowly through the jungle. By chance hisdirection was toward the camp, and this fact so relieved the girl’s mindthat presently she was far from loath to remain quietly in his arms.

After a moment she gained courage to look up into his face. She thought thatshe never had seen so marvellously clean cut features, or a more high and noblecountenance, and she wondered how it was that this white man was upon theisland and she not have known it. Possibly he was a new arrival—hispresence unguessed even by her father. That he was neither English nor Americanwas evident from the fact that he could not understand her native tongue. Whocould he be! What was he doing upon their island!

As she watched his face he suddenly turned his eyes down upon her, and as shelooked hurriedly away she was furious with herself as she felt a crimson flushmantle her cheek. The man only half sensed, in a vague sort of way, the meaningof the tell tale color and the quickly averted eyes; but he became suddenlyaware of the pressure of her delicate body against his, as he had not beenbefore. Now he kept his eyes upon her face as he walked, and a new emotionfilled his breast. He did not understand it, but it was very pleasant, and heknew that it was because of the radiant thing that he carried in his arms.

The scream that had startled von Horn and Professor Maxon led them along thetrail toward the east coast of the island, and about halfway of the distancethey stumbled upon the dazed and bloody Sing just as he was on the point ofregaining consciousness.

“For God’s sake, Sing, what is the matter?” cried von Horn.“Where is Miss Maxon?”

“Big blute, he catchem Linee. Tly kill Sing. Head hit tlee. No see anymore. Wakee up—all glone,” moaned the Chinaman as he tried to gainhis feet.

“Which way did he take her?” urged von Horn.

Sing’s quick eyes scanned the surrounding jungle, and in a moment,staggering to his feet, he cried, “Look see, klick! Foot plint!”and ran, weak and reeling drunkenly, along the broad trail made by the giantcreature and its prey.

Von Horn and Professor Maxon followed closely in Sing’s wake, the youngerman horrified by the terrible possibilities that obtruded themselves into hisimagination despite his every effort to assure himself that no harm could cometo Virginia Maxon before they reached her. The girl’s father had notspoken since they discovered that she was missing from the campong, but hisface was white and drawn; his eyes wide and glassy as those of one whose mindis on the verge of madness from a great nervous shock.

The trail of the creature was bewilderingly erratic. A dozen paces straightthrough the underbrush, then a sharp turn at right angles for no apparentreason, only to veer again suddenly in a new direction! Thus, turning andtwisting, the tortuous way led them toward the south end of the island, untilSing, who was in advance, gave a sharp cry of surprise.

“Klick! Look see!” he cried excitedly. “Blig blutedead—vely muchee dead.”

Von Horn rushed forward to where the Chinaman was leaning over the body ofNumber One. Sure enough, the great brute lay motionless, its horrid face evenmore hideous in death than in life, if it were possible. The face was black,the tongue protruded, the skin was bruised from the heavy fists of hisassailant and the thick skull crushed and splintered from terrific impact withthe tree.

Professor Maxon leaned over von Horn’s shoulder. “Ah, poor NumberOne,” he sighed, “that you should have come to such an untimelyend—my child, my child.”

Von Horn looked at him, a tinge of compassion in his rather hard face. Ittouched the man that his employer was at last shocked from the obsession of hiswork to a realization of the love and duty he owed his daughter; he thoughtthat the professor’s last words referred to Virginia.

“Though there are twelve more,” continued Professor Maxon,“you were my first born son and I loved you most, dear child.”

The younger man was horrified.

“My God, Professor!” he cried. “Are you mad? Can you callthis thing ‘child’ and mourn over it when you do not yet know thefate of your own daughter?”

Professor Maxon looked up sadly. “You do not understand, Dr. vonHorn,” he replied coldly, “and you will oblige me, in the future,by not again referring to the offspring of my labors as‘things.’”

With an ugly look upon his face von Horn turned his back upon the olderman—what little feeling of loyalty and affection he had ever felt for himgone forever. Sing was looking about for evidences of the cause of NumberOne’s death and the probable direction in which Virginia Maxon haddisappeared.

“What on earth could have killed this enormous brute, Sing? Have you anyidea?” asked von Horn.

The Chinaman shook his head.

“No savvy,” he replied. “Blig flight. Look see,” and hepointed to the torn and trampled turf, the broken bushes, and to one or twosmall trees that had been snapped off by the impact of the two mighty bodiesthat had struggled back and forth about the little clearing.

“This way,” cried Sing presently, and started off once more intothe brush, but this time in a northwesterly direction, toward camp.

In silence the three men followed the new trail, all puzzled beyond measure toaccount for the death of Number One at the hands of what must have been acreature of superhuman strength. What could it have been! It was impossiblethat any of the Malays or lascars could have done the thing, and there were noother creatures, brute or human, upon the island large enough to have copedeven for an instant with the ferocious brutality of the dead monster,except—von Horn’s brain came to a sudden halt at the thought. Couldit be? There seemed no other explanation. Virginia Maxon had been rescued fromone soulless monstrosity to fall into the hands of another equallyirresponsible and terrifying.

Others then must have escaped from the campong. Von Horn loosened his guns intheir holsters, and took a fresh grip upon his bull whip as he urged Singforward upon the trail. He wondered which one it was, but not once did it occurto him that the latest result of Professor Maxon’s experiments could bethe rescuer of Virginia Maxon. In his mind he could see only the repulsivefeatures of one of the others.

Quite unexpectedly they came upon the two, and with a shout von Horn leapedforward, his bull whip upraised. Number Thirteen turned in surprise at the cry,and sensing a new danger for her who lay in his arms, he set her gently uponthe ground behind him and advanced to meet his assailant.

“Out of the way, you—monstrosity,” cried von Horn. “Ifyou have harmed Miss Maxon I’ll put a bullet in your heart!”

Number Thirteen did not understand the words that the other addressed to himbut he interpreted the man’s actions as menacing, not to himself, but tothe creature he now considered his particular charge; and so he met theadvancing man, more to keep him from the girl than to offer him bodily injuryfor he recognized him as one of the two who had greeted his first dawningconsciousness.

Von Horn, possibly intentionally, misinterpreted the other’s motive, andraising his bull whip struck Number Thirteen a vicious cut across the face, atthe same time levelling his revolver point blank at the broad breast. Butbefore ever he could pull the trigger an avalanche of muscle was upon him, andhe went down to the rotting vegetation of the jungle with five sinewy fingersat his throat.

His revolver exploded harmlessly in the air, and then another hand wrenched itfrom him and hurled it far into the underbrush. Number Thirteen knew nothing ofthe danger of firearms, but the noise had startled him and his experience withthe stinging cut of the bull whip convinced him that this other was some sortof instrument of torture of which it would be as well to deprive hisantagonist.

Virginia Maxon looked on in horror as she realized that her rescuer was quicklychoking Dr. von Horn to death. With a little cry she sprang to her feet and rantoward them, just as her father emerged from the underbrush through which hehad been struggling in the trail of the agile Chinaman and von Horn. Placingher hand upon the great wrist of the giant she tried to drag his fingers fromvon Horn’s throat, pleading meanwhile with both voice and eyes for thelife of the man she thought loved her.

Again Number Thirteen translated the intent without understanding the words,and releasing von Horn permitted him to rise. With a bound he was upon his feetand at the same instant brought his other gun from his side and levelled itupon the man who had released him; but as his finger tightened upon the triggerVirginia Maxon sprang between them and grasping von Horn’s wristdeflected the muzzle of the gun just as the cartridge exploded. SimultaneouslyProfessor Maxon sprang from his grasp and hurled him back with the superhumanstrength of a maniac.

“Fool!” he cried. “What would you do? Kill—,” andthen of a sudden he realized his daughter’s presence and the necessityfor keeping the origin of the young giant from her knowledge.

“I am surprised at you, Dr. von Horn,” he continued in a more levelvoice. “You must indeed have forgotten yourself to thus attack a strangerupon our island until you know whether he be friend or foe. Come! Escort mydaughter to the camp, while I make the proper apologies to thisgentleman.” As he saw that both Virginia and von Horn hesitated, herepeated his command in a peremptory tone, adding; “Quick, now; do as Ibid you.”

The moment had given von Horn an opportunity to regain his self-control, andrealizing as well as did his employer, but from another motive, the necessityof keeping the truth from the girl, he took her arm and led her gently from thescene. At Professor Maxon’s direction Sing accompanied them.

Now in Number Thirteen’s brief career he had known no other authoritythan Professor Maxon’s, and so it was that when his master laid a handupon his wrist he remained beside him while another walked away with the lovelycreature he had thought his very own.

Until after dark the professor kept the young man hidden in the jungle, andthen, safe from detection, led him back to the laboratory.

5
TREASON

On their return to camp after her rescue Virginia talked a great deal to vonHorn about the young giant who had rescued her, until the man feared that shewas more interested in him than seemed good for his own plans.

He had now cast from him the last vestige of his loyalty for his employer, andthus freed had determined to use every means within his power to win ProfessorMaxon’s daughter, and with her the heritage of wealth which he knew wouldbe hers should her father, through some unforeseen mishap, meet death before hecould return to civilization and alter his will, a contingency which von Hornknew he might have to consider should he marry the girl against herfather’s wishes, and thus thwart the crazed man’s mad, but no lessdear project.

He realized that first he must let the girl fully understand the grave peril inwhich she stood, and turn her hope of protection from her father to himself. Heimagined that the initial step in undermining Virginia’s confidence inher father would be to narrate every detail of the weird experiments whichProfessor Maxon had brought to such successful issues during their residenceupon the island.

The girl’s own questioning gave him the lead he needed.

“Where could that horrid creature have come from that set upon me in thejungle and nearly killed poor Sing?” she asked.

For a moment von Horn was silent, in well simulated hesitancy to reply to herquery.

“I cannot tell you, Miss Maxon,” he said sadly, “how much Ishould hate to be the one to ignore your father’s commands, and enlightenyou upon this and other subjects which lie nearer to your personal welfare thanyou can possibly guess; but I feel that after the horrors of this day dutydemands that I must lay all before you—you cannot again be exposed to thehorrors from which you were rescued only by a miracle.”

“I cannot imagine what you hint at, Dr. von Horn,” said Virginia,“but if to explain to me will necessitate betraying my father’sconfidence I prefer that you remain silent.”

“You do not understand,” broke in the man, “you cannot guessthe horrors that I have seen upon this island, or the worse horrors that are tocome. Could you dream of what lies in store for you, you would seek deathrather than face the future. I have been loyal to your father, Virginia, butwere you not blind, or indifferent, you would long since have seen that yourwelfare means more to me than my loyalty to him—more to me than my lifeor my honor.

“You asked where the creature came from that attacked you today. I shalltell you. It is one of a dozen similarly hideous things that your father hascreated in his mad desire to solve the problem of life. He has solved it; but,God, at what a price in misshapen, soulless, hideous monsters!”

The girl looked up at him, horror stricken.

“Do you mean to say that my father in a mad attempt to usurp thefunctions of God created that awful thing?” she asked in a low, faintvoice, “and that there are others like it upon the island?”

“In the campong next to yours there are a dozen others,” repliedvon Horn, “nor would it be easy to say which is the most hideous andrepulsive. They are grotesque caricatures of humanity—without soul andalmost without brain.”

“God!” murmured the girl, burying her face in her hands, “hehas gone mad; he has gone mad.”

“I truly believe that he is mad,” said von Horn, “nor couldyou doubt it for a moment were I to tell you the worst.”

“The worst!” exclaimed the girl. “What could be worse thanthat which you already have divulged? Oh, how could you have permittedit?”

“There is much worse than I have told you, Virginia. So much worse that Ican scarce force my lips to frame the words, but you must be told. I would bemore criminally liable than your father were I to keep it from you, for mybrain, at least, is not crazed. Virginia, you have in your mind a picture ofthe hideous thing that carried you off into the jungle?”

“Yes,” and as the girl replied a convulsive shudder racked herframe.

Von Horn grasped her arm gently as he went on, as though to support and protecther during the shock that he was about to administer.

“Virginia,” he said in a very low voice, “it is yourfather’s intention to wed you to one of his creatures.”

The girl broke from him with an angry cry.

“It is not true!” she exclaimed. “It is not true. Oh, Dr. vonHorn how could you tell me such a cruel and terrible untruth.”

“As God is my judge, Virginia,” and the man reverently uncovered ashe spoke, “it is the truth. Your father told me it in so many words whenI asked his permission to pay court to you myself—you are to marry NumberThirteen when his education is complete.”

“I shall die first!” she cried.

“Why not accept me instead?” suggested the man.

For a moment Virginia looked straight into his eyes as though to read hisinmost soul.

“Let me have time to consider it, Doctor,” she replied. “I donot know that I care for you in that way at all.”

“Think of Number Thirteen,” he suggested. “It should not bedifficult to decide.”

“I could not marry you simply to escape a worse fate,” replied thegirl. “I am not that cowardly—but let me think it over. There canbe no immediate danger, I am sure.”

“One can never tell,” replied von Horn, “what strange, newvagaries may enter a crazed mind to dictate this moment’s action or thenext.”

“Where could we wed?” asked Virginia.

“The Ithaca would bear us to Singapore, and when we returned you would beunder my legal protection and safe.”

“I shall think about it from every angle,” she answered sadly,“and now good night, my dear friend,” and with a wan smile sheentered her quarters.

For the next month Professor Maxon was busy educating Number Thirteen. He foundthe young man intelligent far beyond his most sanguine hopes, so that theprogress made was little short of uncanny.

Von Horn during this time continued to urge upon Virginia the necessity for aprompt and favorable decision in the matter of his proposal; but when it cametime to face the issue squarely the girl found it impossible to accede to hisrequest—she thought that she loved him, but somehow she dared not say theword that would make her his for life.

Bududreen, the Malay mate was equally harassed by conflicting desires, thoughof a different nature, for he had his eye upon the main chance that wasrepresented to him by the great chest, and also upon the lesser reward whichawaited him upon delivery of the girl to Rajah Muda Saffir. The fact that hecould find no safe means for accomplishing both these ends simultaneously wasall that had protected either from his machinations.

The presence of the uncanny creatures of the court of mystery had become knownto the Malay and he used this knowledge as an argument to foment discord andmutiny in the ignorant and superstitious crew under his command. By boring ahole in the partition wall separating their campong from the inner one he haddisclosed to the horrified view of his men the fearsome brutes harbored soclose to them. The mate, of course, had no suspicion of the true origin ofthese monsters, but his knowledge of the fact that they had not been upon theisland when the Ithaca arrived and that it would have been impossible for themto have landed and reached the camp without having been seen by himself or somemember of his company, was sufficient evidence to warrant him in attributingtheir presence to some supernatural and malignant power.

This explanation the crew embraced willingly, and with it Bududreen’ssuggestion that Professor Maxon had power to transform them all into similaratrocities. The ball once started gained size and momentum as it progressed.The professor’s ofttimes strange expression was attributed to an evileye, and every ailment suffered by any member of the crew was blamed upon theiremployer’s Satanic influence. There was but one escape from the horrorsof such a curse—the death of its author; and when Bududreen discoveredthat they had reached this point, and were even discussing the method ofprocedure, he added all that was needed to the dangerously smouldering embersof bloody mutiny by explaining that should anything happen to the white men hewould become sole owner of their belongings, including the heavy chest, andthat the reward of each member of the crew would be generous.

Von Horn was really the only stumbling block in Bududreen’s path. Withthe natural cowardice of the Malay he feared this masterful American who nevermoved without a brace of guns slung about his hips; and it was at just thispsychological moment that the doctor played into the hands of his subordinate,much to the latter’s inward elation.

Von Horn had finally despaired of winning Virginia by peaceful court, and hadabout decided to resort to force when he was precipitately confirmed in hisdecision by a conversation with the girl’s father.

He and the professor were talking in the workshop of the remarkable progress ofNumber Thirteen toward a complete mastery of English and the ways and mannersof society, in which von Horn had been assisting his employer to train theyoung giant. The breach between the latter and von Horn had been patched overby Professor Maxon’s explanations to Number Thirteen as soon as the youngman was able to comprehend—in the meantime it had been necessary to keepvon Horn out of the workshop except when the giant was confined in his own roomoff the larger one.

Von Horn had been particularly anxious, for the furtherance of certain plans hehad in mind, to effect a reconciliation with Number Thirteen, to reach a basisof friendship with the young man, and had left no stone unturned to accomplishthis result. To this end he had spent considerable time with Number Thirteen,coaching him in English and in the ethics of human association.

“He is progressing splendidly, Doctor,” Professor Maxon had said.“It will be but a matter of a day or so when I can introduce him toVirginia, but we must be careful that she has no inkling of his origin untilmutual affection has gained a sure foothold between them.”

“And if that should not occur?” questioned von Horn.

“I should prefer that they mated voluntarily,” replied theprofessor, the strange gleam leaping to his eyes at the suggestion of possibleantagonism to his cherished plan, “but if not, then they shall becompelled by the force of my authority—they both belong to me, body andsoul.”

“You will wait for the final consummation of your desires until youreturn with them to civilization, I presume,” said von Horn.

“And why?” returned the professor. “I can wed them heremyself—it would be the surer way—yes, that is what I shalldo.”

It was this determination on the part of Professor Maxon that decided von Hornto act at once. Further, it lent a reasonable justification for his purposedact.

Shortly after their talk the older man left the workshop, and von Horn took theopportunity to inaugurate the second move of his campaign. Number Thirteen wassitting near a window which let upon the inner court, busy with the rudimentsof written English. Von Horn approached him.

“You are getting along nicely, Jack,” he said kindly, looking overthe other’s shoulder and using the name which had been adopted at hissuggestion to lend a more human tone to their relations with the nameless man.

“Yes,” replied the other, looking up with a smile. “ProfessorMaxon says that in another day or two I may come and live in his own house, andagain meet his beautiful daughter. It seems almost too good to be true that Ishall actually live under the same roof with her and see her everyday—sit at the same table with her—and walk with her among thebeautiful trees and flowers that witnessed our first meeting. I wonder if shewill remember me. I wonder if she will be as glad to see me again as I shall beto see her.”

“Jack,” said von Horn, sadly, “I am afraid there is aterrible and disappointing awakening for you. It grieves me that it should beso, but it seems only fair to tell you, what Professor Maxon either does notknow or has forgotten, that his daughter will not look with pleasure upon youwhen she learns your origin.

“You are not as other men. You are but the accident of a laboratoryexperiment. You have no soul, and the soul is all that raises man above thebeasts. Jack, poor boy, you are not a human being—you are not even abeast. The world, and Miss Maxon is of the world, will look upon you as aterrible creature to be shunned—a horrible monstrosity far lower in thescale of creation than the lowest order of brutes.

“Look,” and the man pointed through the window toward the group ofhideous things that wandered aimlessly about the court of mystery. “Youare of the same breed as those, you differ from them only in the symmetry ofyour face and features, and the superior development of your brain. There is noplace in the world for them, nor for you.

“I am sorry that it is so. I am sorry that I should have to be the one totell you; but it is better that you know it now from a friend than that youmeet the bitter truth when you least expected it, and possibly from the lips ofone like Miss Maxon for whom you might have formed a hopeless affection.”

As von Horn spoke the expression on the young man’s face became more andmore hopeless, and when he had ceased he dropped his head into his open palms,sitting quiet and motionless as a carven statue. No sob shook his great frame,there was no outward indication of the terrible grief that racked himinwardly—only in the pose was utter dejection and hopelessness.

The older man could not repress a cold smile—it had had more effect thanhe had hoped.

“Don’t take it too hard, my boy,” he continued. “Theworld is wide. It would be easy to find a thousand places where yourantecedents would be neither known nor questioned. You might be very happyelsewhere and there are a hundred thousand girls as beautiful and sweet asVirginia Maxon—remember that you have never seen another, so you canscarcely judge.”

“Why did he ever bring me into the world?” exclaimed the young mansuddenly. “It was wicked—wicked—terribly cruel andwicked.”

“I agree with you,” said von Horn quickly, seeing anotherpossibility that would make his future plans immeasurably easier. “It waswicked, and it is still more wicked to continue the work and bring still otherunfortunate creatures into the world to be the butt and plaything of cruelfate.”

“He intends to do that?” asked the youth.

“Unless he is stopped,” replied von Horn.

“He must be stopped,” cried the other. “Even if it werenecessary to kill him.”

Von Horn was quite satisfied with the turn events had taken. He shrugged hisshoulders and turned on his heel toward the outer campong.

“If he had wronged me as he has you, and those others,” with agesture toward the court of mystery, “I should not be long in reaching adecision.” And with that he passed out, leaving the door unlatched.

Von Horn went straight to the south campong and sought out Bududreen. Motioningthe Malay to follow him they walked across the clearing and entered the jungleout of sight and hearing of the camp. Sing, hanging clothes in the north end ofthe clearing saw them depart, and wondered a little.

“Bududreen,” said von Horn, when the two had reached a safedistance from the enclosures, “there is no need of mincingmatters—something must be done at once. I do not know how much you knowof the work that Professor Maxon has been engaged in since we reached thisisland; but it has been hellish enough and it must go no further. You have seenthe creatures in the campong next to yours?”

“I have seen,” replied Bududreen, with a shudder.

“Professor Maxon intends to wed one of these to his daughter,” vonHorn continued. “She loves me and we wish to escape—can I rely onyou and your men to aid us? There is a chest in the workshop which we must takealong too, and I can assure you that you all will be well rewarded for yourwork. We intend merely to leave Professor Maxon here with the creatures he hascreated.”

Bududreen could scarce repress a smile—it was indeed too splendid to betrue.

“It will be perilous work, Captain,” he answered. “We shouldall be hanged were we caught.”

“There will be no danger of that, Bududreen, for there will be no one todivulge our secret.”

“There will be the Professor Maxon,” urged the Malay. “Someday he will escape from the island, and then we shall all hang.”

“He will never escape,” replied von Horn, “his own creatureswill see to that. They are already commencing to realize the horrible crime hehas committed against them, and when once they are fully aroused there will beno safety for any of us. If you wish to leave the island at all it will be bestfor you to accept my proposal and leave while your head yet remains upon yourshoulders. Were we to suggest to the professor that he leave now he would notonly refuse but he would take steps to make it impossible for any of us toleave, even to sinking the Ithaca. The man is mad—quitemad—Bududreen, and we cannot longer jeopardize our own throats merely tohumor his crazy and criminal whims.”

The Malay was thinking fast, and could von Horn have guessed what thoughtsraced through the tortuous channels of that semi-barbarous brain he would havewished himself safely housed in the American prison where he belonged.

“When do you wish to sail?” asked the Malay.

“Tonight,” replied von Horn, and together they matured their plans.An hour later the second mate with six men disappeared into the jungle towardthe harbor. They, with the three on watch, were to get the vessel in readinessfor immediate departure.

After the evening meal von Horn sat on the verandah with Virginia Maxon untilthe Professor came from the workshop to retire for the night. As he passed themhe stopped for a word with von Horn, taking him aside out of the girl’shearing.

“Have you noticed anything peculiar in the actions of Thirteen?”asked the older man. “He was sullen and morose this evening, and at timesthere was a strange, wild light in his eyes as he looked at me. Can it bepossible that, after all, his brain is defective? It would be terrible. My workwould have gone for naught, for I can see no way in which I can improve uponhim.”

“I will go and have a talk with him later,” said von Horn,“so if you hear us moving about in the workshop, or even out here in thecampong think nothing of it. I may take him for a long walk. It is possiblethat the hard study and close confinement to that little building have been toosevere upon his brain and nerves. A long walk each evening may bring him aroundall right.”

“Splendid—splendid,” replied the professor. “You may bequite right. Do it by all means, my dear doctor,” and there was a touchof the old, friendly, sane tone which had been so long missing, that almostcaused von Horn to feel a trace of compunction for the hideous act ofdisloyalty that he was on the verge of perpetrating.

As Professor Maxon entered the house von Horn returned to Virginia andsuggested that they take a short walk outside the campong before retiring. Thegirl readily acquiesced to the plan, and a moment later found them strollingthrough the clearing toward the southern end of the camp. In the dark shadowsof the gateway leading to the men’s enclosure a figure crouched. The girldid not see it, but as they came opposite it von Horn coughed twice, and thenthe two passed on toward the edge of the jungle.

6
TO KILL!

The Rajah Muda Saffir, tiring of the excuses and delays which Bududreeninterposed to postpone the fulfillment of his agreement with the former,whereby he was to deliver into the hands of the rajah a certain beautifulmaiden, decided at last to act upon his own initiative. The truth of the matterwas that he had come to suspect the motives of the first mate of the Ithaca,and not knowing of the great chest attributed them to Bududreen’s desireto possess the girl for himself.

So it was that as the second mate of the Ithaca with his six men waded down thebed of the little stream toward the harbor and the ship, a fleet of ten warprahus manned by over five hundred fierce Dyaks and commanded by Muda Saffirhimself, pulled cautiously into the little cove upon the opposite side of theisland, and landed but a quarter of a mile from camp.

At the same moment von Horn was leading Virginia Maxon farther and farther fromthe north campong where resistance, if there was to be any, would be mostlikely to occur. At his superior’s cough Bududreen had signalled silentlyto the men within the enclosure, and a moment later six savage lascars creptstealthily to his side.

The moment that von Horn and the girl were entirely concealed by the darkness,the seven moved cautiously along the shadow of the palisade toward the northcampong. There was murder in the cowardly hearts of several of them, andstupidity and lust in the hearts of all. There was no single one who would notbetray his best friend for a handful of silver, nor any but was inwardly hopingand scheming to the end that he might alone possess both the chest and thegirl.

It was such a pack of scoundrels that Bududreen led toward the north campong tobear away the treasure. In the breast of the leader was the hope that he hadplanted enough of superstitious terror in their hearts to make the sight of thesupposed author of their imagined wrongs sufficient provocation for his murder;for Bududreen was too sly to give the order for the killing of a whiteman—the arm of the white man’s law was too long—but he feltthat he would rest easier were he to leave the island with the knowledge thatonly a dead man remained behind with the secret of his perfidy.

While these events were transpiring Number Thirteen was pacing restlessly backand forth the length of the workshop. But a short time before he had had hisauthor—the author of his misery—within the four walls of hisprison, and yet he had not wreaked the vengeance that was in his heart. Twicehe had been on the point of springing upon the man, but both times theother’s eyes had met his and something which he was not able tocomprehend had stayed him. Now that the other had gone and he was alonecontemplation of the hideous wrong that had been done loosed again the floodgates of his pent rage.

The thought that he had been made by this man—made in the semblance of ahuman being, yet denied by the manner of his creation a place among the lowestof Nature’s creatures—filled him with fury, but it was not thisthought that drove him to the verge of madness. It was the knowledge, suggestedby von Horn, that Virginia Maxon would look upon him in horror, as a grotesqueand loathsome monstrosity.

He had no standard and no experience whereby he might classify his sentimentstoward this wonderful creature. All he knew was that his life would be completecould he be near her always—see her and speak with her daily. He hadthought of her almost constantly since those short, delicious moments that hehad held her in his arms. Again and again he experienced in retrospection theexquisite thrill that had run through every fiber of his being at the sight ofher averted eyes and flushed face. And the more he let his mind dwell upon thewonderful happiness that was denied him because of his origin, the greaterbecame his wrath against his creator.

It was now quite dark without. The door leading to Professor Maxon’scampong, left unlatched earlier in the evening by von Horn for sinister motivesof his own, was still unbarred through a fatal coincidence of forgetfulness onthe part of the professor.

Number Thirteen approached this door. He laid his hand upon the knob. A momentlater he was moving noiselessly across the campong toward the house in whichProfessor Maxon lay peacefully sleeping; while at the south gate Bududreen andhis six cutthroats crept cautiously within and slunk in the dense shadows ofthe palisade toward the workshop where lay the heavy chest of their desire. Atthe same instant Muda Saffir with fifty of his head-hunting Dyaks emerged fromthe jungle east of the camp, bent on discovering the whereabouts of the girlthe Malay sought and bearing her away to his savage court far within the junglefastness of his Bornean principality.

Number Thirteen reached the verandah of the house and peered through the windowinto the living room, where an oil lamp, turned low, dimly lighted theinterior, which he saw was unoccupied. Going to the door he pushed it open andentered the apartment. All was still within. He listened intently for someslight sound which might lead him to the victim he sought, or warn him from theapartment of the girl or that of von Horn—his business was with ProfessorMaxon. He did not wish to disturb the others whom he believed to be sleepingsomewhere within the structure—a low, rambling bungalow of eight rooms.

Cautiously he approached one of the four doors which opened from the livingroom. Gently he turned the knob and pushed the door ajar. The interior of theapartment beyond was in inky darkness, but Number Thirteen’s greatestfear was that he might have stumbled upon the sleeping room of Virginia Maxon,and that if she were to discover him there, not only would she be frightened,but her cries would alarm the other inmates of the dwelling.

The thought of the horror that his presence would arouse within her, theknowledge that she would look upon him as a terrifying monstrosity, added newfuel to the fires of hate that raged in his bosom against the man who hadcreated him. With clenched fists, and tight set jaws the great, soulless giantmoved across the dark chamber with the stealthy noiselessness of a tiger.Feeling before him with hands and feet he made the circuit of the room beforehe reached the bed.

Scarce breathing he leaned over and groped across the covers with his fingersin search of his prey—the bed was empty. With the discovery came a suddennervous reaction that sent him into a cold sweat. Weakly, he seated himselfupon the edge of the bed. Had his fingers found the throat of Professor Maxonbeneath the coverlet they would never have released their hold until life hadforever left the body of the scientist, but now that the highest tide of theyoung man’s hatred had come and gone he found himself for the first timeassailed by doubts.

Suddenly he recalled the fact that the man whose life he sought was the fatherof the beautiful creature he adored. Perhaps she loved him and would be unhappywere he taken away from her. Number Thirteen did not know, of course, but theidea obtruded itself, and had sufficient weight to cause him to remain seatedupon the edge of the bed meditating upon the act he contemplated. He had by nomeans given up the idea of killing Professor Maxon, but now there were doubtsand obstacles which had not been manifest before.

His standards of right and wrong were but half formed, from the brief attemptsof Professor Maxon and von Horn to inculcate proper moral perceptions in a mindentirely devoid of hereditary inclinations toward either good or bad, but herealized one thing most perfectly—that to be a soulless thing was to bedamned in the estimation of Virginia Maxon, and it now occurred to him that tokill her father would be the act of a soulless being. It was this thought morethan another that caused him to pause in the pursuit of his revenge, since heknew that the act he contemplated would brand him the very thing he was, yetwished not to be.

At length, however, he slowly comprehended that no act of his would change thehideous fact of his origin; that nothing would make him acceptable in her eyes,and with a shake of his head he arose and stepped toward the living room tocontinue his search for the professor.

In the workshop Bududreen and his men had easily located the chest. Dragging itinto the north campong the Malay was about to congratulate himself upon theease with which the theft had been accomplished when one of his fellowsdeclared his intention of going to the house for the purpose of dispatchingProfessor Maxon, lest the influence of his evil eye should overtake them withsome terrible curse when the loss of the chest should be discovered.

While this met fully with Bududreen’s plans he urged the man against anysuch act that he might have witnesses to prove that he not only had no hand inthe crime, but had exerted his authority to prevent it; but when two of the menseparated themselves from the party and crept toward the bungalow no force wasinterposed to stop them.

The moon had risen now, so that from the dark shadows of the palisade MudaSaffir and his savages watched the party with Bududreen squatting about theheavy chest, and saw the two who crept toward the house. To Muda Saffir’sevil mind there was but one explanation. Bududreen had discovered a richtreasure, and having stolen that had dispatched two of his men to bring him thegirl also.

Rajah Muda Saffir was furious. In subdued whispers he sent a half dozen of hisDyaks back beneath the shadow of the palisade to the opposite side of thebungalow where they were to enter the building, killing all within except thegirl, whom they were to carry straight to the beach and the war prahus.

Then with the balance of his horde he crept alone in the darkness untilopposite Bududreen and the watchers about the chest. Just as the two who crepttoward the bungalow reached it, Muda Saffir gave the word for the attack uponthe Malays and lascars who guarded the treasure. With savage yells they dashedupon the unsuspecting men. Parangs and spears glistened in the moonlight. Therewas a brief and bloody encounter, for the cowardly Bududreen and his equallycowardly crew had had no alternative but to fight, so suddenly had the foefallen upon them.

In a moment the savage Borneo head hunters had added five grisly trophies totheir record. Bududreen and another were racing madly toward the jungle beyondthe campong.

As Number Thirteen arose to continue his search for Professor Maxon his quickear caught the shuffling of bare feet upon the verandah. As he paused to listenthere broke suddenly upon the still night the hideous war cries of the Dyaks,and the screams and shrieks of their frightened victims in the campong without.Almost simultaneously Professor Maxon and Sing rushed into the living room toascertain the cause of the wild alarm, while at the same instantBududreen’s assassins sprang through the door with upraised krisses, tobe almost immediately followed by Muda Saffir’s six Dyaks brandishingtheir long spears and wicked parangs.

In an instant the little room was filled with howling, fighting men. The Dyaks,whose orders as well as inclinations incited them to a general massacre, fellfirst upon Bududreen’s lascars who, cornered in the small room, foughtlike demons for their lives, so that when the Dyaks had overcome them two oftheir own number lay dead beside the dead bodies of Bududreen’s henchmen.

Sing and Professor Maxon stood in the doorway to the professor’s roomgazing upon the scene of carnage in surprise and consternation. The scientistwas unarmed, but Sing held a long, wicked looking Colt in readiness for anycontingency. It was evident the celestial was no stranger to the use of hisdeadly weapon, nor to the moments of extreme and sudden peril which demandedits use, for he seemed no more perturbed than had he been but hanging out hisweekly wash.

As Number Thirteen watched the two men from the dark shadows of the room inwhich he stood, he saw that both were calm—the Chinaman with the calmnessof perfect courage, the other through lack of full understanding of the gravedanger which menaced him. In the eyes of the latter shone a strangegleam—it was the wild light of insanity that the sudden nervous shock ofthe attack had brought to a premature culmination.

Now the four remaining Dyaks were advancing upon the two men. Sing levelled hisrevolver and fired at the foremost, and at the same instant Professor Maxon,with a shrill, maniacal scream, launched himself full upon a second. NumberThirteen saw the blood spurt from a superficial wound in the shoulder of thefellow who received Sing’s bullet, but except for eliciting a howl ofrage the missile had no immediate effect. Then Sing pulled the trigger againand again, but the cylinder would not revolve and the hammer fell futilely uponthe empty cartridge. As two of the head hunters closed upon him the braveChinaman clubbed his weapon and went down beneath them beating madly at thebrown skulls.

The man with whom Professor Maxon had grappled had no opportunity to use hisweapons for the crazed man held him close with one encircling arm while he toreand struck at him with his free hand. The fourth Dyak danced around the twowith raised parang watching for an opening that he might deliver a silencingblow upon the white man’s skull.

The great odds against the two men—their bravery in the face of death,their grave danger—and last and greatest, the fact that one was thefather of the beautiful creature he worshipped, wrought a sudden change inNumber Thirteen. In an instant he forgot that he had come here to kill thewhite-haired man, and with a bound stood in the center of the room—anunarmed giant towering above the battling four.

The parang of the Dyak who sought Professor Maxon’s life was alreadyfalling as a mighty hand grasped the wrist of the head hunter; but even then itwas too late to more than lessen the weight of the blow, and the sharp edge ofthe blade bit deep into the forehead of the white man. As he sank to his kneeshis other antagonist freed an arm from the embrace which had pinioned it to hisside, but before he could deal the professor a blow with the short knife thatup to now he had been unable to use, Number Thirteen had hurled his man acrossthe room and was upon him who menaced the scientist.

Tearing him loose from his prey, he raised him far above his head and threw himheavily against the opposite wall, then he turned his attention towardSing’s assailants. All that had so far saved the Chinaman from death wasthe fact that the two savages were each so anxious to secure his head for theverandah rafters of his own particular long-house that they interfered with oneanother in the consummation of their common desire.

Although battling for his life, Sing had not failed to note the advent of thestrange young giant, nor the part he had played in succoring the professor, sothat it was with a feeling of relief that he saw the newcomer turn hisattention toward those who were rapidly reducing the citadel of his ownexistence.

The two Dyaks who sought the trophy which nature had set upon theChinaman’s shoulders were so busily engaged with their victim that theyknew nothing of the presence of Number Thirteen until a mighty hand seized eachby the neck and they were raised bodily from the floor, shaken viciously for aninstant, and then hurled to the opposite end of the room upon the bodies of thetwo who had preceded them.

As Sing came to his feet he found Professor Maxon lying in a pool of his ownblood, a great gash in his forehead. He saw the white giant standing silentlylooking down upon the old man. Across the room the four stunned Dyaks wererecovering consciousness. Slowly and fearfully they regained their feet, andseeing that no attention was being paid them, cast a parting, terrified look atthe mighty creature who had defeated them with his bare hands, and slunkquickly out into the darkness of the campong.

When they caught up with Rajah Muda Saffir near the beach, they narrated afearful tale of fifty terrible white men with whom they had battled valiantly,killing many, before they had been compelled to retreat in the face of terrificodds. They swore that even then they had only returned because the girl was notin the house—otherwise they should have brought her to their belovedmaster as he had directed.

Now Muda Saffir believed nothing that they said, but he was well pleased withthe great treasure which had so unexpectedly fallen into his hands, and hedecided to make quite sure of that by transporting it to his ownland—later he could return for the girl. So the ten war prahus of theMalay pulled quietly out of the little cove upon the east side of the island,and bending their way toward the south circled its southern extremity and boreaway for Borneo.

In the bungalow within the north campong Sing and Number Thirteen had liftedProfessor Maxon to his bed, and the Chinaman was engaged in bathing andbandaging the wound that had left the older man unconscious. The white giantstood beside him watching his every move. He was trying to understand whysometimes men killed one another and again defended and nursed. He was curiousas to the cause of his own sudden change in sentiment toward Professor Maxon.At last he gave the problem up as beyond his powers of solution, and atSing’s command set about the task of helping to nurse the man whom heconsidered the author of his unhappiness and whom a few short minutes before hehad come to kill.

As the two worked over the stricken man their ears were suddenly assailed by awild commotion from the direction of the workshop. There were sounds ofbattering upon wood, loud growls and roars, mingled with weird shrieks andscreams and the strange, uncanny gibbering of brainless things.

Sing looked quickly up at his companion.

“Whallee mallee?” he asked.

The giant did not answer. An expression of pain crossed his features, and heshuddered—but not from fear.

7
THE BULL WHIP

As von Horn and Virginia Maxon walked slowly beneath the dense shadows of thejungle he again renewed his suit. It would please him more to have the girlaccompany him voluntarily than to be compelled to take her by force, but takeher he would one way or another, and that, this very night, for all the planswere made and already under way.

“I cannot do it, Doctor von Horn,” she had said. “No matterhow much danger I may be in here I cannot desert my father on this lonely islewith only savage lascars and the terrible monsters of his own creationsurrounding him. Why, it would be little short of murder for us to do such athing. I cannot see how you, his most trusted lieutenant, can even give aninstant’s consideration to the idea.

“And now that you insist that his mind is sorely affected, it is only anadded reason why I must remain with him to protect him so far as I am able,from himself and his enemies.”

Von Horn did not relish the insinuation in the accent which the girl put uponthe last word.

“It is because I love you so, Virginia,” he hastened to urge inextenuation of his suggested disloyalty. “I cannot see you sacrificed tohis horrible mania. You do not realize the imminence of your peril. TomorrowNumber Thirteen was to have come to live beneath the same roof with you. Yourecall Number One whom the stranger killed as the thing was bearing you awaythrough the jungle? Can you imagine sleeping in the same house with such asoulless thing? Eating your three meals a day at the same table with it? Andknowing all the time that in a few short weeks at the most you were destined tobe given to the thing as its mate? Virginia, you must be mad to consider for amoment remaining within reach of such a terrible peril.

“Come to Singapore with me—it will take but a few days—andthen we can return with some good medical man and a couple of Europeans, andtake your father away from the terrible creatures he has created. You will bemine then and safe from the awful fate that now lies back there in the campawaiting you. We can take your father upon a long trip where rest and quiet canhave an opportunity to restore his enfeebled mentality. Come, Virginia! Comewith me now. We can go directly to the Ithaca and safety. Say that you willcome.”

The girl shook her head.

“I do not love you, I am afraid, Doctor von Horn, or I should certainlybe moved by your appeal. If you wish to bring help for my father I shall nevercease to thank you if you will go to Singapore and fetch it, but it is notnecessary that I go. My place is here, near him.”

In the darkness the girl did not see the change that came over the man’sface, but his next words revealed his altered attitude with sufficientexactitude to thoroughly arouse her fears.

“Virginia,” he said, “I love you, and I intend to have you.Nothing on earth can prevent me. When you know me better you will return mylove, but now I must risk offending you that I may save you for myself from themonstrous connection which your father contemplates for you. If you will notcome away from the island with me voluntarily I consider it my duty to take youaway by force.”

“You would never do that, Doctor von Horn!” she exclaimed.

Von Horn had gone too far. He cursed himself inwardly for a fool. Why the devildidn’t that villain, Bududreen, come! He should have been along to acthis part half an hour before.

“No, Virginia,” said the man, softly, after a moment’ssilence, “I could not do that; though my judgment tells me that I shoulddo it. You shall remain here if you insist and I will be with you to serve andprotect both you and your father.”

The words were fair, but the girl could not forget the ugly tone that hadtinged his preceding statement. She felt that she would be glad when she foundherself safely within the bungalow once more.

“Come,” she said, “it is late. Let us return to camp.”

Von Horn was about to reply when the war cries of Muda Saffir’s Dyaks asthey rushed out upon Bududreen and his companions came to them distinctlythrough the tropic night.

“What was that?” cried the girl in an alarmed tone.

“God knows,” replied von Horn. “Can it be that our men havemutinied?”

He thought the six with Bududreen were carrying out their part in a mostrealistic manner, and a grim smile tinged his hard face.

Virginia Maxon turned resolutely toward the camp.

“I must go back there to my father,” she said, “and so mustyou. Our place is there—God give that we be not too late,” andbefore von Horn could stop her she turned and ran through the darkness of thejungle in the direction of the camp.

Von Horn dashed after her, but so black was the night beneath the overhangingtrees, festooned with their dark myriad creepers, that the girl was out ofsight in an instant, and upon the soft carpet of the rotting vegetation herlight footfalls gave no sound.

The doctor made straight for the camp, but Virginia, unused to jungle trailingeven by day, veered sharply to the left. The sounds which had guided her atfirst soon died out, the brush became thicker, and presently she realized thatshe had no conception of the direction of the camp. Coming to a spot where thetrees were less dense, and a little moonlight filtered to the ground, shepaused to rest and attempt to regain her bearings.

As she stood listening for some sound which might indicate the whereabouts ofthe camp, she detected the noise of a body approaching through the underbrush.Whether man or beast she could but conjecture and so she stood with every nervetaut waiting the thing that floundered heavily toward her. She hoped it mightbe von Horn, but the hideous war cries which had apprised her of enemies at theencampment made her fear that fate might be directing the footsteps of one ofthese upon her.

Nearer and nearer came the sound, and the girl stood poised ready to fly whenthe dark face of Bududreen suddenly emerged into the moonlight beside her. Withan hysterical cry of relief the girl greeted him.

“Oh, Bududreen,” she exclaimed, “what has happened at camp?Where is my father? Is he safe? Tell me.”

The Malay could scarce believe the good fortune which had befallen him soquickly following the sore affliction of losing the treasure. His evil mindworked quickly, so that he grasped the full possibilities that were his beforethe girl had finished her questioning.

“The camp was attacked by Dyaks, Miss Maxon,” he replied.“Many of our men were killed, but your father escaped and has gone to theship. I have been searching for you and Doctor von Horn. Where is he?”

“He was with me but a moment ago. When we heard the cries at camp Ihastened on to discover what calamity had befallen us—we becameseparated.”

“He will be safe,” said Bududreen, “for two of my men arewaiting to guide you and the doctor to the ship in case you returned to campbefore I found you. Come, we will hasten on to the harbor. Your father will beworried if we are long delayed, and he is anxious to make sail and escapebefore the Dyaks discover the location of the Ithaca.”

The man’s story seemed plausible enough to Virginia, although she couldnot repress a little pang of regret that her father had been willing to go onto the harbor before he knew her fate. However, she explained that by herbelief that his mind was unbalanced through constant application to his weirdobsession.

Without demur, then, she turned and accompanied the rascally Malay toward theharbor. At the bank of the little stream which led down to the Ithaca’sberth the man lifted her to his shoulder and thus bore her the balance of theway to the beach. Here two of his men were awaiting him in one of theship’s boats, and without words they embarked and pulled for the vessel.

Once on board Virginia started immediately for her father’s cabin. As shecrossed the deck she noticed that the ship was ready to sail, and even as shedescended the companionway she heard the rattle of the anchor chain about thecapstan. She wondered if von Horn could be on board too. It seemed remarkablethat all should have reached the Ithaca so quickly, and equally strange thatnone of her own people were on deck to welcome her, or to command the vessel.

To her chagrin she found her father’s cabin empty, and a moment’shurried investigation disclosed the fact that von Horn’s was unoccupiedas well. Now her doubts turned quickly to fears, and with a little gasp ofdismay at the grim possibilities which surged through her imagination she ranquickly to the companionway, but above her she saw that the hatch was down, andwhen she reached the top that it was fastened. Futilely she beat upon the heavyplanks with her delicate hands, calling aloud to Bududreen to release her, butthere was no reply, and with the realization of the hopelessness of herposition she dropped back to the deck, and returned to her stateroom. Here shelocked and barricaded the door as best she could, and throwing herself upon theberth awaited in dry-eyed terror the next blow that fate held in store for her.

Shortly after von Horn became separated from Virginia he collided with thefleeing lascar who had escaped the parangs of Muda Saffir’s head huntersat the same time as had Bududreen. So terror stricken was the fellow that hehad thrown away his weapons in the panic of flight, which was all that savedvon Horn from death at the hands of the fear crazed man. To him, in theextremity of his fright, every man was an enemy, and the doctor had a toughscuffle with him before he could impress upon the fellow that he was a friend.

From him von Horn obtained an incoherent account of the attack, together withthe statement that he was the only person in camp that escaped, all the othershaving been cut down by the savage horde that overwhelmed them. It was withdifficulty that von Horn persuaded the man to return with him to the campong,but finally, he consented to do so when the doctor with drawn revolver,presented death as the only alternative.

Together they cautiously crept back toward the palisade, not knowing at whatmoment they might come upon the savage enemy that had wrought such havoc amongtheir forces, for von Horn believed the lascar’s story that all hadperished. His only motive for returning lay in his desire to prevent VirginiaMaxon falling into the hands of the Dyaks, or, failing that, rescuing her fromtheir clutches.

Whatever faults and vices were Carl von Horn’s cowardice was not one ofthem, and it was without an instant’s hesitation that he had elected toreturn to succor the girl he believed to have returned to camp, although heentertained no scruples regarding the further pursuit of his dishonorableintentions toward her, should he succeed in saving her from her other enemies.

As the two approached the campong quiet seemed to have again fallen about thescene of the recent alarm. Muda Saffir had passed on toward the cove with theheavy chest, and the scrimmage in the bungalow was over. But von Horn did notabate his watchfulness as he stole silently within the precincts of the northcampong, and, hugging the denser shadows of the palisade, crept toward thehouse.

The dim light in the living room drew him to one of the windows whichoverlooked the verandah. A glance within showed him Sing and Number Thirteenbending over the body of Professor Maxon. He noted the handsome face andperfect figure of the young giant. He saw the bodies of the dead lascars andDyaks. Then he saw Sing and the young man lift Professor Maxon tenderly intheir arms and bear him to his own room.

A sudden wave of jealous rage swept through the man’s vicious brain. Hesaw that the soulless thing within was endowed with a kindlier and more noblenature than he himself possessed. He had planted the seed of hatred and revengewithin his untutored heart without avail, for he read in the dead bodies ofBududreen’s men and the two Dyaks the story of Number Thirteen’sdefense of the man von Horn had hoped he would kill.

Von Horn was quite sure now that Virginia Maxon was not within the campong.Either she had become confused and lost in the jungle after she left him, orhad fallen into the hands of the wild horde that had attacked the camp.Convinced of this, there was no obstacle to thwart the sudden plan whichentered his malign brain. With a single act he could rid himself of the manwhom he had come to look upon as a rival, whose physical beauty aroused hisenvy and jealousy; he could remove, in the person of Professor Maxon, theparental obstacle which might either prevent his obtaining the girl, or makeserious trouble for him in case he took her by force, and at the same time hecould transfer to the girl’s possession the fortune which was now herfather’s—and he could accomplish it all without tainting his ownhands with the blood of his victims.

As the full possibilities of his devilish scheme unfolded before hismind’s eye a grim smile curled his straight, thin lips at the thought ofthe fate which it entailed for the creator of the hideous monsters of the courtof mystery.

As he turned away from the bungalow his eye fell upon the trembling lascar whohad accompanied him to the edge of the verandah. He must be rid of the fellowin some way—no eye must see him perpetrate the deed he had in mind. Asolution quickly occurred to him.

“Hasten to the harbor,” he said to the man in a low voice,“and tell those on board the ship that I shall join them presently. Haveall in readiness to sail. I wish to fetch some of my belongings—allwithin the bungalow are dead.”

No command could have better suited the sailor. Without a word he turned andfled toward the jungle. Von Horn walked quickly to the workshop. The door hungopen. Through the dark interior he strode straight to the opposite door whichlet upon the court of mystery. On a nail driven into the door frame hung aheavy bull whip. The doctor took it down as he raised the strong bar which heldthe door. Then he stepped through into the moonlit inner campong—the bullwhip in his right hand, a revolver in his left.

A half dozen misshapen monsters roved restlessly about the hard packed earth ofthe pen. The noise of the battle in the adjoining enclosure had aroused themfrom slumber and awakened in their half formed brains vague questionings andfears. At sight of von Horn several of them rushed for him with menacinggrowls, but a swift crack of the bull whip brought them to a sudden realizationof the identity of the intruder, so that they slunk away, muttering and whiningin rage.

Von Horn passed quickly to the low shed in which the remainder of the elevenwere sleeping. With vicious cuts from the stinging lash he lay about him uponthe sleeping things. Roaring and shrieking in pain and anger the creaturesstumbled to their feet and lumbered awkwardly into the open. Two of them turnedupon their tormentor, but the burning weapon on their ill protected flesh sentthem staggering back out of reach, and in another moment all were huddled inthe center of the campong.

As cattle are driven, von Horn drove the miserable creatures toward the door ofthe workshop. At the threshold of the dark interior the frightened thingshalted fearfully, and then as von Horn urged them on from behind with his cruelwhip they milled as cattle at the entrance to a strange corral.

Again and again he urged them for the door, but each time they turned away, andto escape the whip beat and tore at the wall of the palisade in a vain effortto batter it from their pathway. Their roars and shrieks were almost deafeningas von Horn, losing what little remained of his scant self-control, dashedamong them laying to right and left with the stern whip and the butt of hisheavy revolver.

Most of the monsters scattered and turned back into the center of theenclosure, but three of them were forced through the doorway into the workshop,from the darkness of which they saw the patch of moonlight through the opendoor upon the opposite side. Toward this they scurried as von Horn turned backinto the court of mystery for the others.

Three more herculean efforts he made before he beat the last of the creaturesthrough the outer doorway of the workshop into the north campong.

Among the age old arts of the celestials none is more strangely inspiring thanthat of medicine. Odd herbs and unspeakable things when properly compoundedunder a favorable aspect of the heavenly bodies are potent to achievemiraculous cures, and few are the Chinamen who do not brew some specialconcoction of their own devising for the lesser ills which beset mankind.

Sing was no exception in this respect. In various queerly shaped, bamboocovered jars he maintained a supply of tonics, balms and lotions. His firstthought when he had made Professor Maxon comfortable upon the couch was tofetch his pet nostrum, for there burned strong within his yellow breast thesame powerful yearning to experiment that marks the greatest of the professionto whose mysteries he aspired.

Though the hideous noises from the inner campong rose threateningly, theimperturbable Sing left the bungalow and passed across the north campong to thelittle lean-to that he had built for himself against the palisade thatseparated the north enclosure from the court of mystery.

Here he rummaged about in the dark until he had found the two phials he sought.The noise of the monsters upon the opposite side of the palisade had nowassumed the dimensions of pandemonium, and through it all the Chinaman heardthe constant crack that was the sharp voice of the bull whip.

He had completed his search and was about to return to the bungalow when thefirst of the monsters emerged into the north campong from the workshop. At thedoor of his shack Sing Lee drew back to watch, for he knew that behind themsome one was driving these horribly grotesque creatures from their prison.

One by one they came lumbering into the moonlight until Sing had countedeleven, and then, after them, came a white man, bull whip and revolver in hand.It was von Horn. The equatorial moon shone full upon him—there could beno mistake. The Chinaman saw him turn and lock the workshop door; saw him crossthe campong to the outer gate; saw him pass through toward the jungle, closingthe gate.

Of a sudden there was a sad, low moaning through the surrounding trees; dense,black clouds obscured the radiant moon; and then with hideous thunder and vividflashes of lightning the tempest broke in all its fury of lashing wind andhurtling deluge. It was the first great storm of the breaking up of themonsoon, and under the cover of its darkness Sing Lee scurried through themonster filled campong to the bungalow. Within he found the young man bathingProfessor Maxon’s head as he had directed him to do.

“All gettee out,” he said, jerking his thumb in the direction ofthe court of mystery. “Eleven devils. Plenty soon come bung’low.What do?”

Number Thirteen had seen von Horn’s extra bull whip hanging upon a peg inthe living room. For answer he stepped into that room and took the weapon down.Then he returned to the professor’s side.

Outside the frightened monsters groped through the blinding rain and darknessin search of shelter. Each vivid lightning flash, and bellowing of boomingthunder brought responsive cries of rage and terror from their hideous lips. Itwas Number Twelve who first spied the dim light showing through thebungalow’s living room window. With a low guttural to his companions hestarted toward the building. Up the low steps to the verandah they crept.Number Twelve peered through the window. He saw no one within, but there waswarmth and dryness.

His little knowledge and lesser reasoning faculties suggested no thought of adoorway. With a blow he shattered the glass of the window. Then he forced hisbody through the narrow aperture. At the same moment a gust of wind suckingthrough the broken panes drew open the door, and as Number Thirteen, warned bythe sound of breaking glass, sprang into the living room he was confronted bythe entire horde of misshapen beings.

His heart went out in pity toward the miserable crew, but he knew that his lifeas well as those of the two men in the adjoining room depended upon the forceand skill with which he might handle the grave crisis which confronted them. Hehad seen and talked with most of the creatures when from time to time they hadbeen brought singly into the workshop that their creator might mitigate thewrong he had done by training the poor minds with which he had endowed them toreason intelligently.

A few were hopeless imbeciles, unable to comprehend more than the rudimentaryrequirements of filling their bellies when food was placed before them; yeteven these were endowed with superhuman strength; and when aroused battled themore fiercely for the very reason of their brainlessness. Others, like NumberTwelve, were of a higher order of intelligence. They spoke English, and, aftera fashion, reasoned in a crude sort of way. These were by far the mostdangerous, for as the power of comparison is the fundamental principle ofreasoning, so they were able to compare their lot with that of the few othermen they had seen, and with the help of von Horn to partially appreciate thehorrible wrong that had been done them.

Von Horn, too, had let them know the identity of their creator, and thusimplanted in their malformed brains the insidious poison of revenge. Envy andjealousy were there as well, and hatred of all beings other than themselves.They envied the ease and comparative beauty of the old professor and hisassistant, and hated the latter for the cruelty of the bull whip and theconstant menace of the ever ready revolver; and so as they were to them therepresentatives of the great human world of which they could never be a part,their envy and jealousy and hatred of these men embraced the entire race whichthey represented.

It was such that Number Thirteen faced as he emerged from the professor’sapartment.

“What do you want here?” he said, addressing Number Twelve, whostood a little in advance of the others.

“We have come for Maxon,” growled the creature. “We have beenpenned up long enough. We want to be out here. We have come to kill Maxon andyou and all who have made us what we are.”

“Why do you wish to kill me?” asked the young man. “I am oneof you. I was made in the same way that you were made.”

Number Twelve opened his mismated eyes in astonishment.

“Then you have already killed Maxon?” he asked.

“No. He was wounded by a savage enemy. I have been helping to make himwell again. He has wronged me as much as he has you. If I do not wish to killhim, why should you? He did not mean to wrong us. He thought that he was doingright. He is in trouble now and we should stay and protect him.”

“He lies,” suddenly shouted another of the horde. “He is notone of us. Kill him! Kill him! Kill Maxon, too, and then we shall be as othermen, for it is these men who keep us as we are.”

The fellow started forward toward Number Thirteen as he spoke, and moved by theimpulse of imitation the others came on with him.

“I have spoken fairly to you,” said Number Thirteen in a low voice.“If you cannot understand fairness here is something you canunderstand.”

Raising the bull whip above his head the young giant leaped among the advancingbrutes and lay about him with mighty strokes that put to shame thecomparatively feeble blows with which von Horn had been wont to deal outpunishment to the poor, damned creatures of the court of mystery.

For a moment they stood valiantly before his attack, but after two had grappledwith him and been hurled headlong to the floor they gave up and rushedincontinently out into the maelstrom of the screaming tempest.

In the doorway behind him Sing Lee had been standing waiting the outcome of theencounter and ready to lend a hand were it required. As the two men turned backinto the professor’s room they saw that the wounded man’s eyes wereopen and upon them. At sight of Number Thirteen a questioning look came intohis eyes.

“What has happened?” he asked feebly of Sing. “Where is mydaughter? Where is Dr. von Horn? What is this creature doing out of hispen?”

The blow of the parang upon the professor’s skull had shocked hisoverwrought mind back into the path of sanity. It had left him with a clearremembrance of the past, other than the recent fight in the livingroom—that was a blank—and it had given him a clearer perspective ofthe plans he had been entertaining for so long relative to this soullesscreature.

The first thought that sprang to his mind as he saw Number Thirteen before himwas of his mad intention to give his daughter to such a monstrous thing. Withthe recollection came a sudden loathing and hatred of this and the othercreatures of his unholy experimentations.

Presently he realized that his questions had not been answered.

“Sing!” he shouted. “Answer me. Where are Virginia and Dr.von Horn?”

“All gonee. Me no know. All gonee. Maybeso allee dead.”

“My God!” groaned the stricken man; and then his eyes again fallingupon the silent giant in the doorway, “Out of my sight,” heshrieked. “Out of my sight! Never let me see you again—and to thinkthat I would have given my only daughter to a soulless thing like you. Away!Before I go mad and slay you.”

Slowly the color mounted to the neck and face of the giant—then suddenlyit receded, leaving him as ashen as death. His great hand gripped the stock ofthe bull whip. A single blow was all that would have been needed to silenceProfessor Maxon forever. There was murder in the wounded heart. The man took astep forward into the room, and then something drew his eyes to a spot upon thewall just above Professor Maxon’s shoulder—it was a photograph ofVirginia Maxon.

Without a word Number Thirteen turned upon his heel and passed out into thestorm.

8
THE SOUL OF NUMBER 13

Scarcely had the Ithaca cleared the reef which lies almost across the mouth ofthe little harbor where she had been moored for so many months than the tempestbroke upon her in all its terrific fury. Bududreen was no mean sailor, but hewas short handed, nor is it reasonable to suppose that even with a full crew hecould have weathered the terrific gale which beat down upon the hapless vessel.Buffeted by great waves, and stripped of every shred of canvas by the force ofthe mighty wind that howled about her, the Ithaca drifted a hopeless wreck soonafter the storm struck her.

Below deck the terrified girl clung desperately to a stanchion as the strickenship lunged sickeningly before the hurricane. For half an hour the awfulsuspense endured, and then with a terrific crash the vessel struck, shiveringand trembling from stem to stern.

Virginia Maxon sank to her knees in prayer, for this she thought must surely bethe end. On deck Bududreen and his crew had lashed themselves to the masts, andas the Ithaca struck the reef before the harbor, back upon which she had beendriven, the tall poles with their living freight snapped at the deck and wentoverboard carrying every thing with them amid shrieks and cries of terror thatwere drowned and choked by the wild tumult of the night.

Twice the girl felt the ship strike upon the reef, then a great wave caught andcarried her high into the air, dropping her with a nauseating lunge whichseemed to the imprisoned girl to be carrying the ship to the very bottom of theocean. With closed eyes she clung in silent prayer beside her berth waiting forthe moment that would bring the engulfing waters and oblivion—prayingthat the end might come speedily and release her from the torture of nervousapprehension that had terrorized her for what seemed an eternity.

After the last, long dive the Ithaca righted herself laboriously, wallowingdrunkenly, but apparently upon an even keel in less turbulent waters. One longminute dragged after another, yet no suffocating deluge poured in upon thegirl, and presently she realized that the ship had, at least temporarily,weathered the awful buffeting of the savage elements. Now she felt but a gentleroll, though the wild turmoil of the storm still came to her ears through theheavy planking of the Ithaca’s hull.

For a long hour she lay wondering what fate had overtaken the vessel andwhither she had been driven, and then, with a gentle grinding sound, the shipstopped, swung around, and finally came to rest with a slight list tostarboard. The wind howled about her, the torrential rain beat loudly upon her,but except for a slight rocking the ship lay quiet.

Hours passed with no other sounds than those of the rapidly waning tempest. Thegirl heard no signs of life upon the ship. Her curiosity became more and morekeenly aroused. She had that indefinable, intuitive feeling that she wasutterly alone upon the vessel, and at length, unable to endure the inaction anduncertainty longer, made her way to the companion ladder where for half an hourshe futilely attempted to remove the hatch.

As she worked she failed to hear the scraping of naked bodies clambering overthe ship’s side, or the padding of unshod feet upon the deck above her.She was about to give up her work at the hatch when the heavy wooden coversuddenly commenced to move above her as though actuated by some supernaturalpower. Fascinated, the girl stood gazing in wide-eyed astonishment as one endof the hatch rose higher and higher until a little patch of blue sky revealedthe fact that morning had come. Then the cover slid suddenly back and VirginiaMaxon found herself looking into a savage and terrible face.

The dark skin was creased in fierce wrinkles about the eyes and mouth. Gleamingtiger cat’s teeth curved upward from holes pierced to receive them in theupper half of each ear. The slit ear lobes supported heavy rings whose weighthad stretched the skin until the long loop rested upon the brown shoulders. Thefiled and blackened teeth behind the loose lips added the last touch ofhideousness to this terrible countenance.

Nor was this all. A score of equally ferocious faces peered down from behindthe foremost. With a little scream Virginia Maxon sprang back to the lower deckand ran toward her stateroom. Behind her she heard the commotion of many mendescending the companionway.

As Number Thirteen came into the campong after quitting the bungalow his heartwas a chaos of conflicting emotions. His little world had been wiped out. Hiscreator—the man whom he thought his only friend and benefactor—hadsuddenly turned against him. The beautiful creature he worshipped was eitherlost or dead; Sing had said so. He was nothing but a miserable thing.There was no place in the world for him, and even should he again find VirginiaMaxon, he had von Horn’s word for it that she would shrink from him andloathe him even more than another.

With no plans and no hopes he walked aimlessly through the blinding rain,oblivious of it and of the vivid lightning and deafening thunder. The palisadeat length brought him to a sudden stop. Mechanically he squatted on hishaunches with his back against it, and there, in the midst of the fury of thestorm he conquered the tempest that raged in his own breast. The murder thatrose again and again in his untaught heart he forced back by thoughts of thesweet, pure face of the girl whose image he had set up in the inner temple ofhis being, as a gentle, guiding divinity.

“He made me without a soul,” he repeated over and over again tohimself, “but I have found a soul—she shall be my soul. Von Horncould not explain to me what a soul is. He does not know. None of them knows. Iam wiser than all the rest, for I have learned what a soul is. Eyes cannot seeit—fingers cannot feel it, but he who possess it knows that it is therefor it fills his whole breast with a great, wonderful love and worship forsomething infinitely finer than man’s dull senses cangauge—something that guides him into paths far above the plain ofsoulless beasts and bestial men.

“Let those who will say that I have no soul, for I am satisfied with thesoul I have found. It would never permit me to inflict on others the terriblewrong that Professor Maxon has inflicted on me—yet he never doubts hisown possession of a soul. It would not allow me to revel in the coarsebrutalities of von Horn—and I am sure that von Horn thinks he has a soul.And if the savage men who came tonight to kill have souls, then I am glad thatmy soul is after my own choosing—I would not care for one liketheirs.”

The sudden equatorial dawn found the man still musing. The storm had ceased andas the daylight brought the surroundings to view Number Thirteen became awarethat he was not alone in the campong. All about him lay the eleven terrible menwhom he had driven from the bungalow the previous night. The sight of thembrought a realization of new responsibilities. To leave them here in thecampong would mean the immediate death of Professor Maxon and the Chinaman. Toturn them into the jungle might mean a similar fate for Virginia Maxon were shewandering about in search of the encampment— Number Thirteen could notbelieve that she was dead. It seemed too monstrous to believe that he shouldnever see her again, and he knew so little of death that it was impossible forhim to realize that that beautiful creature ever could cease to be filled withthe vivacity of life.

The young man had determined to leave the camp himself—partly on accountof the cruel words Professor Maxon had hurled at him the night before, butprincipally in order that he might search for the lost girl. Of course he hadnot the remotest idea where to look for her, but as von Horn had explained thatthey were upon a small island he felt reasonably sure that he should find herin time.

As he looked at the sleeping monsters near him he determined that the onlysolution of his problem was to take them all with him. Number Twelve layclosest to him, and stepping to his side he nudged him with the butt of thebull whip he still carried. The creature opened his dull eyes.

“Get up,” said Number Thirteen.

Number Twelve rose, looking askance at the bull whip.

“We are not wanted here,” said Number Thirteen. “I am goingaway and you are all going with me. We shall find a place where we may live inpeace and freedom. Are you not tired of always being penned up?”

“Yes,” replied Number Twelve, still looking at the whip.

“You need not fear the whip,” said the young man. “I shallnot use it on those who make no trouble. Wake the others and tell them what Ihave said. All must come with me—those who refuse shall feel thewhip.”

Number Twelve did as he was bid. The creatures mumbled among themselves for afew minutes. Finally Number Thirteen cracked his long whip to attract theirattention.

“Come!” he said.

Nine of them shuffled after him as he turned toward the outer gate—onlyNumber Ten and Number Three held back. The young man walked quickly to wherethey stood eyeing him sullenly. The others halted to watch—ready tospring upon their new master should the tide of the impending battle turnagainst him. The two mutineers backed away snarling, their hideous featuresdistorted in rage.

“Come!” repeated Number Thirteen.

“We will stay here,” growled Number Ten. “We have not yetfinished with Maxon.”

A loop in the butt of the bull whip was about the young man’s wrist.Dropping the weapon from his hand it still dangled by the loop. At the sameinstant he launched himself at the throat of Number Ten, for he realized that adecisive victory now without the aid of the weapon they all feared would makethe balance of his work easier.

The brute met the charge with lowered head and outstretched hands, and inanother second they were locked in a clinch, tearing at one another like twogreat gorillas. For a moment Number Three stood watching the battle, and thenhe too sprang in to aid his fellow mutineer. Number Thirteen was striking heavyblows with his giant hands upon the face and head of his antagonist, while thelong, uneven fangs of the latter had found his breast and neck a half dozentimes. Blood covered them both. Number Three threw his enormous weight into theconflict with the frenzy of a mad bull.

Again and again he got a hold upon the young giant’s throat only to beshaken loose by the mighty muscles. The excitement of the conflict was tellingupon the malformed minds of the spectators. Presently one who was almostbrainless, acting upon the impulse of suggestion, leaped in among the fighters,striking and biting at Number Thirteen. It was all that wasneeded—another second found the whole monstrous crew upon the single man.

His mighty strength availed him but little in the unequal conflict—elevento one were too great odds even for those powerful thews. His great advantagelay in his superior intelligence, but even this seemed futile in the face ofthe enormous weight of numbers that opposed him. Time and again he had almostshaken himself free only to fall once more—dragged down by hairy armsabout his legs.

Hither and thither about the campong the battle raged until the fighting massrolled against the palisade, and here, at last, with his back to the structure,Number Thirteen regained his feet, and with the heavy stock of the bull whipbeat off, for a moment, those nearest him. All were winded, but when those whowere left of the eleven original antagonists drew back to regain their breath,the young giant gave them no respite, but leaped among them with the long lashthey had such good reason to hate and fear.

The result was as his higher intelligence had foreseen—the creaturesscattered to escape the fury of the lash and a moment later he had them at hismercy. About the campong lay four who had felt the full force of his heavyfist, while not one but bore some mark of the battle.

Not a moment did he give them to recuperate after he had scattered them beforehe rounded them up once more near the outer gate—but now they were docileand submissive. In pairs he ordered them to lift their unconscious comrades totheir shoulders and bear them into the jungle, for Number Thirteen was settingout into the world with his grim tribe in search of his lady love.

Once well within the jungle they halted to eat of the more familiar fruit whichhad always formed the greater bulk of their sustenance. Thus refreshed, theyset out once more after the leader who wandered aimlessly beneath the shade ofthe tall jungle trees amidst the gorgeous tropic blooms and gay, songlessbirds—and of the twelve only the leader saw the beauties that surroundedthem or felt the strange, mysterious influence of the untracked world theytrod. Chance took them toward the west until presently they emerged upon theharbor’s edge, where from the matted jungle they overlooked for the firsttime the waters of the little bay and the broader expanse of strait beyond,until their eyes rested at last upon the blurred lines of distant Borneo.

From other vantage points at the jungle’s border two other watcherslooked out upon the scene. One was the lascar whom von Horn had sent down tothe Ithaca the night before but who had reached the harbor after she sailed.The other was von Horn himself. And both were looking out upon the dismantledwreck of the Ithaca where it lay in the sand near the harbor’s southernedge.

Neither ventured forth from his place of concealment, for beyond the Ithaca tenprahus were pulling gracefully into the quiet waters of the basin.

Rajah Muda Saffir, caught by the hurricane the preceding night as he had beenabout to beat across to Borneo, had scurried for shelter within one of the manytiny coves which indent the island’s entire coast. It happened that hishaven of refuge was but a short distance south of the harbor in which he knewthe Ithaca to be moored, and in the morning he decided to pay that vessel avisit in the hope that he might learn something of advantage about the girlfrom one of her lascar crew.

The wily Malay had long refrained from pillaging the Ithaca for fear such anact might militate against the larger villainy he purposed perpetrating againsther white owner, but when he rounded the point and came in sight of thestranded wreck he put all such thoughts from him and made straight for thehelpless hulk to glean whatever of salvage might yet remain within her batteredhull.

The old rascal had little thought of the priceless treasure hidden beneath theIthaca’s clean swept deck as he ordered his savage henchmen up her sideswhile he lay back upon his sleeping mat beneath the canopy which protected hisvice-regal head from the blistering tropic sun.

Number Thirteen watched the wild head hunters with keenest interest as theyclambered aboard the vessel. With von Horn he saw the evident amazement whichfollowed the opening of the hatch, though neither guessed its cause. He saw thehaste with which a half dozen of the warriors leaped down the companionway andheard their savage shouts as they pursued their quarry within the bowels of theship.

A few minutes later they emerged dragging a woman with them. Von Horn andNumber Thirteen recognized the girl simultaneously, but the doctor, though heground his teeth in futile rage, knew that he was helpless to avert thetragedy. Number Thirteen neither knew nor cared.

“Come!” he called to his grotesque horde. “Kill the men andsave the girl—the one with the golden hair,” he added as the suddenrealization came to him that none of these creatures ever had seen a womanbefore. Then he dashed from the shelter of the jungle, across the beach andinto the water, his fearful pack at his heels.

The Ithaca lay now in about five feet of water, and the war prahus of MudaSaffir rode upon her seaward side, so that those who manned them did not seethe twelve who splashed through the water from land. Never before had any ofthe rescuers seen a larger body of water than the little stream which woundthrough their campong, but accidents and experiments in that had taught themthe danger of submerging their heads. They could not swim, but all were largeand strong, so that they were able to push their way rapidly through the waterto the very side of the ship.

Here they found difficulty in reaching the deck, but in a moment NumberThirteen had solved the problem by requiring one of the taller of his crew tostand close in by the ship while the others clambered upon his shoulders andfrom there to the Ithaca’s deck.

Number Thirteen was the first to pull himself over the vessel’s side, andas he did so he saw some half dozen Dyaks preparing to quit her upon theopposite side. They were the last of the boarding party—the girl wasnowhere in sight. Without waiting for his men the young giant sprang across thedeck. His one thought was to find Virginia Maxon.

At the sound of his approach the Dyak turned, and at the sight of a pajama cladwhite man armed only with a long whip they emitted savage cries ofanticipation, counting the handsome trophy upon the white one’s shouldersas already theirs. Number Thirteen would have paid no attention whatever tothem had they not molested him, for he wished only to reach the girl’sside as quickly as possible; but in another moment he found himself confrontedby a half dozen dancing wild men, brandishing wicked looking parangs, andcrying tauntingly.

Up went the great bull whip, and without abating his speed a particle the manleaped into the midst of the wicked blades that menaced him. Right and leftwith the quickness of thought the heavy lash fell upon heads, shoulders andsword arms. There was no chance to wield a blade in the face of that terrificonslaught, for the whip fell, not with the ordinary force of a man-held lash,but with all the stupendous power of those giant shoulders and arms behind it.

A single blow felled the foremost head hunter, breaking his shoulder and bitinginto the flesh and bone as a heavy sword bites. Again and again the mercilessleather fell, while in the boats below Muda Saffir and his men shouted loudcries of encouragement to their companions on the ship, and a wide-eyed girl inthe stern of Muda Saffir’s own prahu looked on in terror, hope andadmiration at the man of her own race whom she felt was battling against allthese odds for her alone.

Virginia Maxon recognized her champion instantly as he who had fought for herand saved her once before, from the hideous creature of her father’sexperiments. With hands tight pressed against her bosom the girl leanedforward, tense with excitement, watching every move of the lithe, giant figure,as, silhouetted against the brazen tropic sky, it towered above the dancing,shrieking head hunters who writhed beneath the awful lash.

Muda Saffir saw that the battle was going against his men, and it filled himwith anger. Turning to one of his headmen he ordered two more boatloads ofwarriors to the Ithaca’s deck. As they were rushing to obey theirleader’s command there was a respite in the fighting on the ship, for thethree who had not fallen beneath the bull whip had leaped overboard to escapethe fate which had overtaken their comrades.

As the reinforcements started to scale the vessel’s side NumberThirteen’s searching eyes found the girl in Muda Saffir’s prahu,where it lay a little off from the Ithaca, and as the first of the enemyclambered over the rail she saw a smile of encouragement light the clear cutfeatures of the man above her. Virginia Maxon sent back an answeringsmile—a smile that filled the young giant’s heart with pride andhappiness—such a smile as brave men have been content to fight and diefor since woman first learned the art of smiling.

Number Thirteen could have beaten back many of the reinforcing party beforethey reached the deck, but he did not care to do so. In the spontaneous ethicsof the man there seemed no place for an unfair advantage over an enemy, andadded to this was his newly acquired love of battle, so he was content to waituntil his foes stood on an even footing with him before he engaged them. Butthey never came within reach of his ready lash. Instead, as they came above theship’s side they paused, wide-eyed and terror stricken, and with cries offear and consternation dropped precipitately back into the sea, shoutingwarnings to those who were about to scale the hull.

Muda Saffir arose in his prahu cursing and reviling the frightened Dyaks. Hedid not know the cause of their alarm, but presently he saw it behind the giantupon the Ithaca’s deck—eleven horrible monstrosities lumberingforward, snarling and growling, to their leader’s side.

At the sight his own dark countenance went ashen, and with trembling lips heordered his oarsmen to pull for the open sea. The girl, too, saw the frightfulcreatures that surrounded the man upon the deck. She thought that they wereabout to attack him, and gave a little cry of warning, but in another instantshe realized that they were his companions, for with him they rushed to theside of the ship to stand for a moment looking down upon the struggling Dyaksin the water below.

Two prahus lay directly beneath them, and into these the head hunters werescrambling. The balance of the flotilla was now making rapid headway under oarsand sail toward the mouth of the harbor, and as Number Thirteen saw that thegirl was being borne away from him, he shouted a command to his misshapen crew,and without waiting to see if they would follow him leaped into the nearer ofthe two boats beneath.

It was already half filled with Dyaks, some of whom were hastily manning theoars. Others of the head hunters were scrambling over the gunwale. In aninstant pandemonium reigned in the little vessel. Savage warriors sprang towardthe tall figure towering above them. Parangs flashed. The bull whip hissed andcracked, and then into the midst of it all came a horrid avalanche of fearfuland grotesque monsters—the young giant’s crew had followed at hiscommand.

The battle in the prahu was short and fierce. For an instant the Dyaksattempted to hold their own, but in the face of the snarling, rending hordethat engulfed them terror got the better of them all, so that those who werenot overcome dived overboard and swam rapidly toward shore.

The other prahu had not waited to assist its companion, but before it wasentirely filled had gotten under way and was now rapidly overhauling thebalance of the fleet.

Von Horn had been an excited witness to all that had occurred upon the tranquilbosom of the little harbor. He had been filled with astonishment at sight ofthe inhabitants of the court of mystery fighting under the leadership of NumberThirteen, and now he watched interestedly the outcome of the adventure.

The sight of the girl being borne away in the prahu of the Malay rajah to afate worse than death, had roused in him both keen regret and savage rage, butit was the life of ease that he was losing that concerned him most. He had feltso sure of winning Professor Maxon’s fortune through either a forced orvoluntary marriage with the girl that his feelings now were as of one whoserightful heritage has been foully wrested from him. The thought of thegirl’s danger and suffering were of but secondary consideration to him,for the man was incapable of either deep love or true chivalry.

Quite the contrary were the emotions which urged on the soulless creature whonow found himself in undisputed possession of a Dyak war prahu. His onlythought was of the girl being rapidly borne away across the glimmering watersof the strait. He knew not to what dangers she was exposed, or what fatethreatened her. All he knew was that she had been taken by force against herwill. He had seen the look of terror in her eyes, and the dawning hope die outas the boat that carried her had turned rapidly away from the Ithaca. His onethought now was to rescue her from her abductors and return her to her father.Of his own reward or profit he entertained no single thought—it wasenough if he could fight for her. That would be reward sufficient.

Neither Number Thirteen nor any of his crew had ever before seen a boat, andoutside of the leader there was scarcely enough brains in the entire party torender it at all likely that they could ever navigate it, but the young man sawthat the other prahus were being propelled by the long sticks which protrudedfrom their sides, and he also saw the sails bellying with wind, though he hadbut a vague conception of their purpose.

For a moment he stood watching the actions of the men in the nearest boat, andthen he set himself to the task of placing his own men at the oars andinstructing them in the manner of wielding the unfamiliar implements. For anhour he worked with the brainless things that constituted his party. They couldnot seem to learn what was required of them. The paddles were continuallyfouling one another, or being merely dipped into the water and withdrawnwithout the faintest semblance of a stroke made.

The tiresome maneuvering had carried them about in circles back and forthacross the harbor, but by it Number Thirteen had himself learned something ofthe proper method of propelling and steering his craft. At last, more throughaccident than intent, they came opposite the mouth of the basin, and thenchance did for them what days of arduous endeavor upon their part might havefailed to accomplish.

As they hung wavering in the opening, the broad strait before them, and theirquarry fast diminishing to small specks upon the distant horizon, a vagrantland breeze suddenly bellied the flapping sail. The prahu swung quickly aboutwith nose pointed toward the sea, the sail filled, and the long, narrow craftshot out of the harbor and sped on over the dancing waters in the wake of hersisters.

On shore behind them the infuriated Dyaks who had escaped to the beach dancedand shrieked; von Horn, from his hiding place, looked on in surprised wonder,and Bududreen’s lascar cursed the fate that had left a party of fortyhead hunters upon the same small island with him.

Smaller and smaller grew the retreating prahu as, straight as an arrow, shesped toward the dim outline of verdure clad Borneo.

9
INTO SAVAGE BORNEO

Von Horn cursed the chance that had snatched the girl from him, but he tried tocontent himself with the thought that the treasure probably still rested in thecabin of the Ithaca, where Bududreen was to have deposited it. He wished thatthe Dyaks would take themselves off so that he could board the vessel and carrythe chest ashore to bury it against the time that fate should provide a meansfor transporting it to Singapore.

In the water below him floated the Ithaca’s masts, their grisly burdensstill lashed to their wave swept sides. Bududreen lay there, his contortedfeatures set in a horrible grimace of death which grinned up at the man hewould have cheated, as though conscious of the fact that the white man wouldhave betrayed him had the opportunity come, the while he enjoyed inanticipation the other’s disappointment in the loss of both the girl andthe treasure.

The tide was rising now, and presently the Ithaca began to float. No sooner wasit apparent that she was free than the Dyaks sprang into the water and swam toher side. Like monkeys they scrambled aboard, swarming below deck in search,thought von Horn, of pillage. He prayed that they would not discover the chest.

Presently a half dozen of them leaped overboard and swam to the mass of tangledspars and rigging which littered the beach. Selecting what they wished theyreturned to the vessel, and a few minutes later von Horn was chagrined to seethem stepping a jury mast—he thought the treasure lay in theIthaca’s cabin.

Before dark the vessel moved slowly out of the harbor, setting a course acrossthe strait in the direction that the war prahus had taken. When it was apparentthat there was no danger that the head hunters would return, the lascar camefrom his hiding place, and dancing up and down upon the shore screamed warlikechallenges and taunts at the retreating enemy.

Von Horn also came forth, much to the sailor’s surprise, and in silencethe two stood watching the disappearing ship. At length they turned and madetheir way up the stream toward camp—there was no longer aught to fearthere. Von Horn wondered if the creatures he had loosed upon Professor Maxonhad done their work before they left, or if they had all turned to mush as hadNumber Thirteen.

Once at the encampment his questions were answered, for he saw a light in thebungalow, and as he mounted the steps there were Sing and Professor Maxon justcoming from the living room.

“Von Horn!” exclaimed the professor. “You, then, are notdead; but where is Virginia? Tell me that she is safe.”

“She has been carried away,” was the startling answer. “Yourcreatures, under the thing you wished to marry her to, have taken her to Borneowith a band of Malay and Dyak pirates. I was alone and could do nothing toprevent them.”

“God!” moaned the old man. “Why did I not kill the thing whenit stood within my power to do so. Only last night he was here beside me, andnow it is too late.”

“I warned you,” said von Horn, coldly.

“I was mad,” retorted the professor. “Could you not see thatI was mad? Oh, why did you not stop me? You were sane enough. You at leastmight have forced me to abandon the insane obsession which has overpowered myreason for all these terrible months. I am sane now, but it is toolate—too late.”

“Both you and your daughter could only have interpreted any such actionon my part as instigated by self-interest, for you both knew that I wanted tomake her my wife,” replied the other. “My hands were tied. I amsorry now that I did not act, but you can readily see the position in which Iwas placed.”

“Can nothing be done to get her back?” cried the father.“There must be some way to save her. Do it von Horn, and not only is mydaughter yours but my wealth as well—every thing that I possess shall beyours if you will but save her from those frightful creatures.”

“The Ithaca is gone, too,” replied the doctor. “There is onlya small boat that I hid in the jungle for some such emergency. It will carry usto Borneo, but what can we four do against five hundred pirates and the dozenmonsters you have brought into the world? No, Professor Maxon, I fear there islittle hope, though I am willing to give my life in an attempt to saveVirginia. You will not forget your promise should we succeed?”

“No, doctor,” replied the old man. “I swear that you shallhave Virginia as your wife, and all my property shall be made over to you ifshe is rescued.”

Sing Lee had been a silent listener to this strange conversation. An odd lookcame into his slant eyes as he heard von Horn exact a confirmation from theprofessor, but what passed in his shrewd mind only he could say.

It was too late to attempt to make a start that day for Borneo, as darkness hadalready fallen. Professor Maxon and von Horn walked over to the workshop andthe inner campong to ascertain what damage had been done there.

On their return Sing was setting the table on the verandah for the eveningmeal. The two men were talking, and without making his presence noticeable theChinaman hovered about ever within ear shot.

“I cannot make it out, von Horn,” Professor Maxon was saying.“Not a board broken, and the doors both apparently opened intentionallyby someone familiar with locks and bolts. Who could have done it?”

“You forget Number Thirteen,” suggested the doctor.

“But the chest!” expostulated the other. “What in the worldwould he want of that enormous and heavy chest?”

“He might have thought that it contained treasure,” hazarded vonHorn, in an innocent tone of voice.

“Bosh, my dear man,” replied Professor Maxon. “He knewnothing of treasures, or money, or the need or value of either. I tell you theworkshop was opened, and the inner campong as well by some one who knew thevalue of money and wanted that chest, but why they should have released thecreatures from the inner enclosure is beyond me.”

“And I tell you Professor Maxon that it could have been none other thanNumber Thirteen,” insisted von Horn. “Did I not myself see himleading his eleven monsters as easily as a captain commands his company? Thefellow is brighter than we have imagined. He has learned much from us both, hehas reasoned, and he has shrewdly guessed many things that he could not haveknown through experience.”

“But his object?” asked the professor.

“That is simple,” returned von Horn. “You have held out hopesto him that soon he should come to live under your roof with Virginia. Thecreature has been madly infatuated with her ever since the day he took her fromNumber One, and you have encouraged his infatuation until yesterday. Then youregained your sanity and put him in his rightful place. What is the result?Denied the easy prey he expected he immediately decided to take it by force,and with that end in view, and taking advantage of the series of remarkablecircumstances which played into his hands, he liberated his fellows, and withthem hastened to the beach in search of Virginia and in hopes of being able tofly with her upon the Ithaca. There he met the Malay pirates, and together theyformed an alliance under terms of which Number Thirteen is to have the girl,and the pirates the chest in return for transporting him and his crew toBorneo. Why it is all perfectly simple and logical, Professor Maxon; do you notsee it now?”

“You may be right, doctor,” answered the old man. “But it isidle to conjecture. Tomorrow we can be up and doing, so let us get what sleepwe can tonight. We shall need all our energies if we are to save my poor, deargirl, from the clutches of that horrid, soulless thing.”

At the very moment that he spoke the object of his contumely was entering thedark mouth of a broad river that flowed from out of the heart of savage Borneo.In the prahu with him his eleven hideous companions now bent to their paddleswith slightly increased efficiency. Before them the leader saw a fire blazingupon a tiny island in the center of the stream. Toward this they turned theirsilent way. Grimly the war prahu with its frightful freight nosed closer to thebank.

At last Number Thirteen made out the figures of men about the fire, and as theycame still closer he was sure that they were members of the very party he hadbeen pursuing across the broad waters for hours. The prahus were drawn up uponthe bank and the warriors were preparing to eat.

Just as the young giants’ prahu came within the circle of firelight aswarthy Malay approached the fire, dragging a white girl roughly by the arm. Nomore was needed to convince Number Thirteen of the identity of the party. Witha low command to his fellows he urged them to redoubled speed. At the sameinstant a Dyak warrior caught sight of the approaching boat as it sped into thefull glare of the light.

At sight of the occupants the head hunters scattered for their own prahus. Thefrightful aspect of the enemy turned their savage hearts to water, leaving nofight in their ordinarily warlike souls.

So quickly they moved that as the pursuing prahu touched the bank all thenearer boats had been launched, and the remaining pirates were scurrying acrossthe little island for those which lay upon the opposite side. Among these wasthe Malay who guarded the girl, but he had not been quick enough to preventVirginia Maxon recognizing the stalwart figure standing in the bow of theoncoming craft.

As he dragged her away toward the prahu of Muda Saffir she cried out to thestrange white man who seemed her self-appointed protector.

“Help! Help!” she called. “This way! Across theisland!” And then the brown hand of her jailer closed over her mouth.Like a tigress she fought to free herself, or to detain her captor until therescue party should catch up with them, but the scoundrel was muscled like abull, and when the girl held back he lifted her across his shoulder and brokeinto a run.

Rajah Muda Saffir had no stomach for a fight himself, but he was loathe to losethe prize he had but just won, and seeing that his men were panic-stricken hesaw no alternative but to rally them for a brief stand that would give thelittle moment required to slip away in his own prahu with the girl.

Calling aloud for those around him to come to his support he halted fifty yardsfrom his boat just as Number Thirteen with his fierce, brainless horde swept upfrom the opposite side of the island in the wake of him who bore VirginiaMaxon. The old rajah succeeded in gathering some fifty warriors about him fromthe crews of the two boats which lay near his. His own men he hastened to theirposts in his prahu that they might be ready to pull swiftly away the momentthat he and the captive were aboard.

The Dyak warriors presented an awe inspiring spectacle in the fitful light ofthe nearby camp fire. The ferocity of their fierce faces was accentuated by theupturned, bristling tiger cat’s teeth which protruded from every ear;while the long feathers of the Argus pheasant waving from their war-caps, thebrilliant colors of their war-coats trimmed with the black and white feathersof the hornbill, and the strange devices upon their gaudy shields but added tothe savagery of their appearance as they danced and howled, menacing andintimidating, in the path of the charging foe.

A single backward glance was all that Virginia Maxon found it possible to throwin the direction of the rescue party, and in that she saw a sight that livedforever in her memory. At the head of his hideous, misshapen pack sprang thestalwart young giant straight into the heart of the flashing parangs of thehowling savages. To right and left fell the mighty bull whip cutting down menwith all the force and dispatch of a steel saber. The Dyaks, encouraged by thepresence of Muda Saffir in their rear, held their ground; and the infuriated,brainless things that followed the wielder of the bull whip threw themselvesupon the head hunters with beating hands and rending fangs.

Number Ten wrested a parang from an adversary, and acting upon his example theother creatures were not long in arming themselves in a similar manner. Cuttingand jabbing they hewed their way through the solid ranks of the enemy, untilMuda Saffir, seeing that defeat was inevitable turned and fled toward hisprahu.

Four of his creatures lay dead as the last of the Dyaks turned to escape fromthe mad white man who faced naked steel with only a rawhide whip. In panic thehead hunters made a wild dash for the two remaining prahus, for Muda Saffir hadsucceeded in getting away from the island in safety.

Number Thirteen reached the water’s edge but a moment after the prow ofthe rajah’s craft had cleared the shore and was swinging up stream underthe vigorous strokes of its fifty oarsmen. For an instant he stood poised uponthe bank as though to spring after the retreating prahu, but the knowledge thathe could not swim held him back—it was useless to throw away his lifewhen the need of it was so great if Virginia Maxon was to be saved.

Turning to the other prahus he saw that one was already launched, but that thecrew of the other was engaged in a desperate battle with the seven remainingmembers of his crew for possession of the boat. Leaping among the combatants heurged his fellows aboard the prahu which was already half filled with Dyaks.Then he shoved the boat out into the river, jumping aboard himself as its prowcleared the gravelly beach.

For several minutes that long, hollowed log was a veritable floating hell ofsavage, screaming men locked in deadly battle. The sharp parangs of the headhunters were no match for the superhuman muscles of the creatures that batteredthem about; now lifting one high above his fellows and using the body as a clubto beat down those nearby; again snapping an arm or leg as one might break apipe stem; or hurling a living antagonist headlong above the heads of hisfellows to the dark waters of the river. And above them all in the thickest ofthe fight, towering even above his own giants, rose the mighty figure of theterrible white man, whose very presence wrought havoc with the valor of thebrown warriors.

Two more of Number Thirteen’s creatures had been cut down in the prahu,but the loss among the Dyaks had been infinitely greater, and to it was nowadded the desertions of the terror stricken savages who seemed to fear thefrightful countenances of their adversaries even as much as they did theirprowess.

There remained but a handful of brown warriors in one end of the boat when theadvantage of utilizing their knowledge of the river and of navigation occurredto Number Thirteen. Calling to his men he commanded them to cease killing,making prisoners of those who remained instead. So accustomed had his pack nowbecome to receiving and acting upon his orders that they changed their tacticsimmediately, and one by one the remaining Dyaks were overpowered, disarmed andheld.

With difficulty Number Thirteen communicated with them, for among them therewas but a single warrior who had ever had intercourse with an Englishman, butat last by means of signs and the few words that were common to them both hemade the native understand that he would spare the lives of himself and hiscompanions if they would help him in pursuit of Muda Saffir and the girl.

The Dyaks felt but little loyalty for the rascally Malay they served, since incommon with all their kind they and theirs had suffered for generations at thehands of the cruel, crafty and unscrupulous race that had usurped theadministration of their land. So it was not difficult to secure from them thepromise of assistance in return for their lives.

Number Thirteen noticed that when they addressed him it was always as Bulan,and upon questioning them he discovered that they had given him this title ofhonor partly in view of his wonderful fighting ability and partly because thesight of his white face emerging from out of the darkness of the river into thefirelight of their blazing camp fire had carried to their impressionable mindsa suggestion of the tropic moon which they admired and reverenced. Both thename and the idea appealed to Number Thirteen and from that time he adoptedBulan as his rightful cognomen.

The loss of time resulting from the fight in the prahu and the ensuing peaceparley permitted Muda Saffir to put considerable distance between himself andhis pursuers. The Malay’s boat was now alone, for of the eight prahusthat remained of the original fleet it was the only one which had taken thisbranch of the river, the others having scurried into a smaller southerly armafter the fight upon the island, that they might the more easily escape theirhideous foemen.

Only Barunda, the headman, knew which channel Rajah Muda Saffir intendedfollowing, and Muda wondered why it was that the two boats that were to haveborne Barunda’s men did not catch up with his. While he had left Barundaand his warriors engaged in battle with the strangers he did not for an instantimagine that they would suffer any severe loss, and that one of their boatsshould be captured was beyond belief. But this was precisely what had happened,and the second boat, seeing the direction taken by the enemy, had turned downstream the more surely to escape them.

So it was that while Rajah Muda Saffir moved leisurely up the river toward hisdistant stronghold waiting for the other boats of his fleet to overtake him,Barunda, the headman, guided the white enemy swiftly after him. Barunda haddiscovered that it was the girl alone this white man wanted. Evidently heeither knew nothing of the treasure chest lying in the bottom of MudaSaffir’s boat, or, knowing, was indifferent. In either event Barundathought that he saw a chance to possess himself of the rich contents of theheavy box, and so served his new master with much greater enthusiasm than hehad the old.

Beneath the paddles of the natives and the five remaining members of his packBulan sped up the dark river after the single prahu with its priceless freight.Already six of the creatures of Professor Maxon’s experiments had givenup their lives in the service of his daughter, and the remaining six werepushing forward through the inky blackness of the jungle night into theuntracked heart of savage Borneo to rescue her from her abductors though theysacrificed their own lives in the endeavor.

Far ahead of them in the bottom of the great prahu crouched the girl theysought. Her thoughts were of the man she felt intuitively to possess thestrength, endurance and ability to overcome every obstacle and reach her atlast. Would he come in time? Ah, that was the question. The mystery of thestranger appealed to her. A thousand times she had attempted to solve thequestion of his first appearance on the island at the very moment that hismighty muscles were needed to rescue her from the horrible creature of herfather’s creation. Then there was his unaccountable disappearance forweeks; there was von Horn’s strange reticence and seeming ignorance as tothe circumstances which brought the young man to the island, or his equallyunaccountable disappearance after having rescued her from Number One. And now,when she suddenly found herself in need of protection, here was the same youngman turning up in a most miraculous fashion, and at the head of the terriblecreatures of the inner campong.

The riddle was too deep for her—she could not solve it; and then herthoughts were interrupted by the thin, brown hand of Rajah Muda Saffir as itencircled her waist and drew her toward him. Upon the evil lips were hot wordsof passion. The girl wrenched herself from the man’s embrace, and, with alittle scream of terror, sprang to her feet, and as Muda Saffir arose to graspher again she struck him full in the face with one small, clenched fist.

Directly behind the Malay lay the heavy chest of Professor Maxon. As the manstepped backward to recover his equilibrium both feet struck the obstacle. Foran instant he tottered with wildly waving arms in an endeavor to regain hislost balance, then, with a curse upon his lips, he lunged across the box andover the side of the prahu into the dark waters of the river.

10
DESPERATE CHANCE

The great chest in the bottom of Rajah Muda Saffir’s prahu had awakenedin other hearts as well as his, blind greed and avarice; so that as it had beenthe indirect cause of his disaster it now proved the incentive to another toturn the mishap to his own profit, and to the final undoing of the Malay.

The panglima Ninaka of the Signana Dyaks who manned Muda Saffir’s warprahu saw his chief disappear beneath the swift waters of the river, but theword of command that would have sent the boat hurriedly back to pick up theswimmer was not given. Instead a lusty cry for greater speed ahead urged thesinuous muscles gliding beneath the sleek brown hides; and when Muda Saffirrose to the surface with a cry for help upon his lips Ninaka shouted back tohim in derision, consigning his carcass to the belly of the nearest crocodile.

In futile rage Muda Saffir called down the most terrible curses of Allah andhis Prophet upon the head of Ninaka and his progeny to the fifth generation,and upon the shades of his forefathers, and upon the grim skulls which hungfrom the rafters of his long-house. Then he turned and swam rapidly toward theshore.

Ninaka, now in possession of both the chest and the girl, was rich indeed, butwith Muda Saffir dead he scarce knew to whom he could dispose of the white girlfor a price that would make it worth while to be burdened with the danger andresponsibility of retaining her. He had had some experience of white men in thepast and knew that dire were the punishments meted to those who wronged thewhite man’s women. All through the remainder of the long night Ninakapondered the question deeply. At last he turned to Virginia.

“Why does the big white man who leads the ourang outangs followus?” he asked. “Is it the chest he desires, or you?”

“It is certainly not the chest,” replied the girl. “He wishesto take me back to my father, that is all. If you will return me to him you maykeep the chest, if that is what you wish.”

Ninaka looked at her quizzically for a moment. Evidently then she was of somevalue. Possibly should he retain her he could wring a handsome ransom from thewhite man. He would wait and see, it were always an easy matter to rid himselfof her should circumstances require. The river was there, deep, dark andsilent, and he could place the responsibility for her loss upon Muda Saffir.

Shortly after day break Ninaka beached his prahu before the long-house of apeaceful river tribe. The chest he hid in the underbrush close by his boat, andwith the girl ascended the notched log that led to the verandah of thestructure, which, stretching away for three hundred yards upon its tall piles,resembled a huge centipede.

The dwellers in the long-house extended every courtesy to Ninaka and his crew.At the former’s request Virginia was hidden away in a dark sleepingcloset in one of the windowless living rooms which opened along the verandahfor the full length of the house. Here a native girl brought her food andwater, sitting, while she ate, in rapt contemplation of the white skin andgolden hair of the strange female.

At about the time that Ninaka pulled his prahu upon the beach before thelong-house, Muda Saffir from the safety of the concealing underbrush upon theshore saw a familiar war prahu forging rapidly up the stream. As it approachedhim he was about to call aloud to those who manned it, for in the bow he saw anumber of his own men; but a second glance as the boat came opposite him causedhim to alter his intention and drop further into the engulfing verdure, forbehind his men squatted five of the terrible monsters that had wrought suchhavoc with his expedition, and in the stern he saw his own Barunda in friendlyconverse with the mad white man who had led them.

As the boat disappeared about a bend in the river Rajah Muda Saffir arose,shaking his fist in the direction it had vanished and, cursing anew andvolubly, damned each separate hair in the heads of the faithless Barunda andthe traitorous Ninaka. Then he resumed his watch for the friendly prahu, orsmaller sampan which he knew time would eventually bring from up or down theriver to his rescue, for who of the surrounding natives would dare refusesuccor to the powerful Rajah of Sakkan!

At the long-house which harbored Ninaka and his crew, Barunda and Bulan stoppedwith theirs to obtain food and rest. The quick eye of the Dyak chieftainrecognized the prahu of Rajah Muda Saffir where it lay upon the beach, but hesaid nothing to his white companion of what it augured—it might be wellto discover how the land lay before he committed himself too deeply to eitherfaction.

At the top of the notched log he was met by Ninaka, who, with horror-wide eyes,looked down upon the fearsome monstrosities that lumbered awkwardly up the rudeladder in the wake of the agile Dyaks and the young white giant.

“What does it mean?” whispered the panglima to Barunda.

“These are now my friends,” replied Barunda. “Where is MudaSaffir?”

Ninaka jerked his thumb toward the river. “Some crocodile has feastedwell,” he said significantly. Barunda smiled.

“And the girl?” he continued. “And the treasure?”

Ninaka’s eyes narrowed. “They are safe,” he answered.

“The white man wants the girl,” remarked Barunda. “He doesnot suspect that you are one of Muda Saffir’s people. If he guessed thatyou knew the whereabouts of the girl he would torture the truth from you andthen kill you. He does not care for the treasure. There is enough in that greatchest for two, Ninaka. Let us be friends. Together we can divide it; otherwiseneither of us will get any of it. What do you say, Ninaka?”

The panglima scowled. He did not relish the idea of sharing his prize, but hewas shrewd enough to realize that Barunda possessed the power to rob him of itall, so at last he acquiesced, though with poor grace.

Bulan had stood near during this conversation, unable, of course, to understanda single word of the native tongue.

“What does the man say?” he asked Barunda. “Has he seenanything of the prahu bearing the girl?”

“Yes,” replied the Dyak. “He says that two hours ago such awar prahu passed on its way up river—he saw the white girl plainly. Alsohe knows whither they are bound, and how, by crossing through the jungle onfoot, you may intercept them at their next stop.”

Bulan, suspecting no treachery, was all anxiety to be off at once. Barundasuggested that in case of some possible emergency causing the quarry to returndown the river it would be well to have a force remain at the long-house tointercept them. He volunteered to undertake the command of this party. Ninaka,he said, would furnish guides to escort Bulan and his men through the jungle tothe point at which they might expect to find Muda Saffir.

And so, with the girl he sought lying within fifty feet of him, Bulan startedoff through the jungle with two of Ninaka’s Dyaks as guides—guideswho had been well instructed by their panglima as to their duties. Twisting andturning through the dense maze of underbrush and close-growing, lofty trees thelittle party of eight plunged farther and farther into the bewilderinglabyrinth.

For hours the tiresome march was continued, until at last the guides halted,apparently to consult each other as to the proper direction. By signs they madeknown to Bulan that they did not agree upon the right course to pursue fromthere on, and that they had decided that it would be best for each to advance alittle way in the direction he thought the right one while Bulan and his fivecreatures remained where they were.

“We will go but a little way,” said the spokesman, “and thenwe shall return and lead you in the proper direction.”

Bulan saw no harm in this, and without a shade of suspicion sat down upon afallen tree and watched his two guides disappear into the jungle in oppositedirections. Once out of sight of the white man the two turned back and met ashort distance in the rear of the party they had deserted—in anothermoment they were headed for the long-house from which they had started.

It was fully an hour thereafter that doubts began to enter Bulan’s head,and as the day dragged on he came to realize that he and his weird pack werealone and lost in the heart of a strange and tangled web of tropical jungle.

No sooner had Bulan and his party disappeared in the jungle than Barunda andNinaka made haste to embark with the chest and the girl and push rapidly on upthe river toward the wild and inaccessible regions of the interior. VirginiaMaxon’s strong hope of succor had been gradually waning as no sign of therescue party appeared as the day wore on. Somewhere behind her upon the broadriver she was sure a long, narrow native prahu was being urged forward inpursuit, and that in command of it was the young giant who was now never for amoment absent from her thoughts.

For hours she strained her eyes over the stern of the craft that was bearingher deeper and deeper into the wild heart of fierce Borneo. On either shorethey occasionally passed a native long-house, and the girl could not help butwonder at the quiet and peace which reigned over these little settlements. Itwas as though they were passing along a beaten highway in the center of acivilized community; and yet she knew that the men who lolled upon theverandahs, puffing indolently upon their cigarettes or chewing betel nut, wereall head hunters, and that along the verandah rafters above them hung thegrisly trophies of their prowess.

Yet as she glanced from them to her new captors she could not but feel that shewould prefer captivity in one of the settlements they were passing—thereat least she might find an opportunity to communicate with her father, or bediscovered by the rescue party as it came up the river. The idea grew upon heras the day advanced until she spent the time in watching furtively for somemeans of escape should they but touch the shore momentarily; and though theyhalted twice her captors were too watchful to permit her the slightestopportunity for putting her plan into action.

Barunda and Ninaka urged their men on, with brief rests, all day, nor did theyhalt even after night had closed down upon the river. On, on the swift prahusped up the winding channel which had now dwindled to a narrow stream, atintervals rushing strongly between rocky walls with a current that tested thestrength of the strong, brown paddlers.

Long-houses had become more and more infrequent until for some time now no signof human habitation had been visible. The jungle undergrowth was scantier andthe spaces between the boles of the forest trees more open. Virginia Maxon wasalmost frantic with despair as the utter helplessness of her position grew uponher. Each stroke of those slender paddles was driving her farther and fartherfrom friends, or the possibility of rescue. Night had fallen, dark andimpenetrable, and with it had come the haunting fears that creep in when thesun has deserted his guardian post.

Barunda and Ninaka were whispering together in low gutturals, and to thegirl’s distorted and fear excited imagination it seemed possible that shealone must be the subject of their plotting. The prahu was gliding through astretch of comparatively quiet and placid water where the stream spread outinto a little basin just above a narrow gorge through which they had justforced their way by dint of the most laborious exertions on the part of thecrew.

Virginia watched the two men near her furtively. They were deeply engrossed intheir conversation. Neither was looking in her direction. The backs of thepaddlers were all toward her. Stealthily she rose to a stooping position at theboat’s side. For a moment she paused, and then, almost noiselessly, doveoverboard and disappeared beneath the black waters.

It was the slight rocking of the prahu that caused Barunda to look suddenlyabout to discover the reason for the disturbance. For a moment neither of themen apprehended the girl’s absence. Ninaka was the first to do so, and itwas he who called loudly to the paddlers to bring the boat to a stop. Then theydropped down the river with the current, and paddled about above the gorge forhalf an hour.

The moment that Virginia Maxon felt the waters close above her head she struckout beneath the surface for the shore upon the opposite side to that towardwhich she had dived into the river. She knew that if any had seen her leave theprahu they would naturally expect to intercept her on her way toward thenearest shore, and so she took this means of outwitting them, although it meantnearly double the distance to be covered.

After swimming a short distance beneath the surface the girl rose and lookedabout her. Up the river a few yards she caught the phosphorescent gleam ofwater upon the prahu’s paddles as they brought her to a sudden stop inobedience to Ninaka’s command. Then she saw the dark mass of thewar-craft drifting down toward her.

Again she dove and with strong strokes headed for the shore. The next time thatshe rose she was terrified to see the prahu looming close behind her. Thepaddlers were propelling the boat slowly in her direction—it was almostupon her now—there was a shout from a man in the bow—she had beenseen.

Like a flash she dove once more and, turning, struck out rapidly straight backbeneath the oncoming boat. When she came to the surface again it was to findherself as far from shore as she had been when she first quitted the prahu, butthe craft was now circling far below her, and she set out once again to retraceher way toward the inky mass of shore line which loomed apparently near andyet, as she knew, was some considerable distance from her.

As she swam, her mind, filled with the terrors of the night, conjuredrecollection of the stories she had heard of the fierce crocodiles which infestcertain of the rivers of Borneo. Again and again she could have sworn that shefelt some huge, slimy body sweep beneath her in the mysterious waters of thisunknown river.

Behind her she saw the prahu turn back up stream, but now her mind was suddenlyengaged with a new danger, for the girl realized that the strong current wasbearing her down stream more rapidly than she had imagined. Already she couldhear the increasing roar of the river as it rushed, wild and tumultuous,through the entrance to the narrow gorge below her. How far it was to shore shecould not guess, or how far to the certain death of the swirling waters towardwhich she was being drawn by an irresistible force; but of one thing she wascertain, her strength was rapidly waning, and she must reach the bank quickly.

With redoubled energy she struck out in one last mighty effort to reach theshore. The tug of the current was strong upon her, like a giant hand reachingup out of the cruel river to bear her back to death. She felt her strengthebbing quickly—her strokes now were feeble and futile. With a prayer toher Maker she threw her hands above her head in the last effort of the drowningswimmer to clutch at even thin air for support—the current caught andswirled her downward toward the gorge, and, at the same instant her fingerstouched and closed upon something which swung low above the water.

With the last flickering spark of vitality that remained in her poor, exhaustedbody Virginia Maxon clung to the frail support that a kind Providence hadthrust into her hands. How long she hung there she never knew, but finally alittle strength returned to her, and presently she realized that it was apendant creeper hanging low from a jungle tree upon the bank that had saved herfrom the river’s rapacious maw.

Inch by inch she worked herself upward toward the bank, and at last, weak andpanting, sunk exhausted to the cool carpet of grass that grew to thewater’s edge. Almost immediately tired, Nature plunged her into a deepsleep. It was daylight when she awoke, dreaming that the tall young giant hadrescued her from a band of demons and was lifting her in his arms to carry herback to her father.

Through half open lids she saw the sunlight filtering through the leafy canopyabove her—she wondered at the realism of her dream; full consciousnessreturned and with it the conviction that she was in truth being held close bystrong arms against a bosom that throbbed to the beating of a real heart.

With a sudden start she opened her eyes wide to look up into the hideous faceof a giant ourang outang.

11
“I AM COMING!”

The morning following the capture of Virginia Maxon by Muda Saffir, ProfessorMaxon, von Horn, Sing Lee and the sole surviving lascar from the crew of theIthaca set out across the strait toward the mainland of Borneo in the smallboat which the doctor had secreted in the jungle near the harbor. The party waswell equipped with firearms and ammunition, and the bottom of the boat waspacked full with provisions and cooking utensils. Von Horn had been careful tosee that the boat was furnished with a mast and sail, and now, under a goodbreeze the party was making excellent time toward the mysterious land of theirdestination.

They had scarcely cleared the harbor when they sighted a ship far out acrossthe strait. Its erratic movements riveted their attention upon it, and later,as they drew nearer, they perceived that the strange craft was a good sizedschooner with but a single short mast and tiny sail. For a minute or two hersail would belly with the wind and the vessel make headway, then she would comesuddenly about, only to repeat the same tactics a moment later. She sailedfirst this way and then that, losing one minute what she had gained the minutebefore.

Von Horn was the first to recognize her.

“It is the Ithaca,” he said, “and her Dyak crew are having adevil of a time managing her—she acts as though she wererudderless.”

Von Horn ran the small boat within hailing distance of the dismasted hulk whoseside was now lined with waving, gesticulating natives. They were peacefulfishermen, they explained, whose prahus had been wrecked in the recent typhoon.They had barely escaped with their lives by clambering aboard this wreck whichAllah had been so merciful as to place directly in their road. Would the TuanBesar be so good as to tell them how to make the big prahu steer?

Von Horn promised to help them on condition that they would guide him and hisparty to the stronghold of Rajah Muda Saffir in the heart of Borneo. The Dyakswillingly agreed, and von Horn worked his small boat in close under theIthaca’s stern. Here he found that the rudder had been all but unshipped,probably as the vessel was lifted over the reef during the storm, but a singlepintle remaining in its gudgeon. A half hour’s work was sufficient torepair the damage, and then the two boats continued their journey toward themouth of the river up which those they sought had passed the night before.

Inside the river’s mouth an anchorage was found for the Ithaca near thevery island upon which the fierce battle between Number Thirteen and MudaSaffir’s forces had occurred. From the deck of the larger vessel thedeserted prahu which had borne Bulan across the strait was visible, as were thebodies of the slain Dyaks and the misshapen creatures of the whitegiant’s forces.

In excited tones the head hunters called von Horn’s attention to theseevidences of conflict, and the doctor drew his boat up to the island and leapedashore, followed by Professor Maxon and Sing. Here they found the dead bodiesof the four monsters who had fallen in an attempt to rescue theircreator’s daughter, though little did any there imagine the real truth.

About the corpses of the four were the bodies of a dozen Dyak warriorsattesting to the ferocity of the encounter and the savage prowess of theunarmed creatures who had sold their poor lives so dearly.

“Evidently they fell out about the possession of the captive,”suggested von Horn. “Let us hope that she did not fall into the clutchesof Number Thirteen—any fate would be better than that.”

“God give that that has not befallen her,” moaned Professor Maxon.“The pirates might but hold her for ransom, but should that soullessfiend possess her my prayer is that she found the strength and the means totake her own life before he had an opportunity to have his way with her.”

“Amen,” agreed von Horn.

Sing Lee said nothing, but in his heart he hoped that Virginia Maxon was not inthe power of Rajah Muda Saffir. The brief experience he had had with NumberThirteen during the fight in the bungalow had rather warmed his wrinkled oldheart toward the friendless young giant, and he was a sufficiently good judgeof human nature to be confident that the girl would be comparatively safe inhis keeping.

It was quickly decided to abandon the small boat and embark the entire party inthe deserted war prahu. A half hour later saw the strangely mixed expeditionforging up the river, but not until von Horn had boarded the Ithaca anddiscovered to his dismay that the chest was not on board her.

Far above them on the right bank Muda Saffir still squatted in his hidingplace, for no friendly prahu or sampan had passed his way since dawn. His keeneyes roving constantly up and down the long stretch of river that was visiblefrom his position finally sighted a war prahu coming toward him from downstream. As it drew closer he recognized it as one which had belonged to his ownfleet before his unhappy encounter with the wild white man and his abhorrentpack, and a moment later his heart leaped as he saw the familiar faces ofseveral of his men; but who were the strangers in the stern, and what was aChinaman doing perched there upon the bow?

The prahu was nearly opposite him before he recognized Professor Maxon and vonHorn as the white men of the little island. He wondered how much they knew ofhis part in the raid upon their encampment. Bududreen had told him muchconcerning the doctor, and as Muda Saffir recalled the fact that von Horn wasanxious to possess himself of both the treasure and the girl he guessed that hewould be safe in the man’s hands so long as he could hold out promises ofturning one or the other over to him; and so, as he was tired of squatting uponthe uncomfortable bank and was very hungry, he arose and hailed the passingprahu.

His men recognized his voice immediately and as they knew nothing of thedefection of any of their fellows, turned the boat’s prow toward shorewithout waiting for the command from von Horn. The latter, fearing treachery,sprang to his feet with raised rifle, but when one of the paddlers explainedthat it was the Rajah Muda Saffir who hailed them and that he was alone vonHorn permitted them to draw nearer the shore, though he continued to standready to thwart any attempted treachery and warned both the professor and Singto be on guard.

As the prahu’s nose touched the bank Muda Saffir stepped aboard and withmany protestations of gratitude explained that he had fallen overboard from hisown prahu the night before and that evidently his followers thought himdrowned, since none of his boats had returned to search for him. Scarcely hadthe Malay seated himself before von Horn began questioning him in therajah’s native tongue, not a word of which was intelligible to ProfessorMaxon. Sing, however, was as familiar with it as was von Horn.

“Where are the girl and the treasure?” he asked.

“What girl, Tuan Besar?” inquired the wily Malay innocently.“And what treasure? The white man speaks in riddles.”

“Come, come,” cried von Horn impatiently. “Let us have nofoolishness. You know perfectly well what I mean—it will go far betterwith you if we work together as friends. I want the girl—if she isunharmed—and I will divide the treasure with you if you will help me toobtain them; otherwise you shall have no part of either. What do you say? Shallwe be friends or enemies?”

“The girl and the treasure were both stolen from me by a rascallypanglima, Ninaka,” said Muda Saffir, seeing that it would be as well tosimulate friendship for the white man for the time being at least—therewould always be an opportunity to use a kris upon him in the remote fastness ofthe interior to which Muda Saffir would lead them.

“What became of the white man who led the strange monsters?” askedvon Horn.

“He killed many of my men, and the last I saw of him he was pushing upthe river after the girl and the treasure,” replied the Malay.

“If another should ask you,” continued von Horn with a meaningfulglance toward Professor Maxon, “it will be well to say that the girl wasstolen by this white giant and that you suffered defeat in an attempt to rescueher because of your friendship for us. Do you understand?”

Muda Saffir nodded. Here was a man after his own heart, which loved intrigueand duplicity. Evidently he would be a good ally in wreaking vengeance upon thewhite giant who had caused all his discomfiture—afterward there wasalways the kris if the other should become inconvenient.

At the long-house at which Barunda and Ninaka had halted, Muda Saffir learnedall that had transpired, his informants being the two Dyaks who had led Bulanand his pack into the jungle. He imparted the information to von Horn and bothmen were delighted that thus their most formidable enemy had been disposed of.It would be but a question of time before the inexperienced creatures perishedin the dense forest—that they ever could retrace their steps to the riverwas most unlikely, and the chances were that one by one they would bedispatched by head hunters while they slept.

Again the party embarked, reinforced by the two Dyaks who were only too glad torenew their allegiance to Muda Saffir while he was backed by the guns of thewhite men. On and on they paddled up the river, gleaning from the dwellers inthe various long-houses information of the passing of the two prahus withBarunda, Ninaka, and the white girl.

Professor Maxon was impatient to hear every detail that von Horn obtained fromMuda Saffir and the various Dyaks that were interviewed at the first long-houseand along the stretch of river they covered. The doctor told him that NumberThirteen still had Virginia and was fleeing up the river in a swift prahu. Heenlarged upon the valor shown by Muda Saffir and his men in their noble attemptto rescue his daughter, and through it all Sing Lee sat with half closed eyes,apparently oblivious to all that passed before him. What were the workings ofthat intricate celestial brain none can say.

Far in the interior of the jungle Bulan and his five monsters stumbled on in aneffort to find the river. Had they known it they were moving parallel with thestream, but a few miles from it. At times it wound in wide detours close to thepath of the lost creatures, and again it circled far away from them.

As they travelled they subsisted upon the fruits with which they had becomefamiliar upon the island of their creation. They suffered greatly for lack ofwater, but finally stumbled upon a small stream at which they filled theirparched stomachs. Here it occurred to Bulan that it would be wise to follow thelittle river, since they could be no more completely lost than they now were nomatter where it should lead them, and it would at least insure them plenty offresh water.

As they proceeded down the bank of the stream it grew in size until presentlyit became a fair sized river, and Bulan had hopes that it might indeed provethe stream that they had ascended from the ocean and that soon he would meetwith the prahus and possibly find Virginia Maxon herself. The strenuous marchof the six through the jungle had torn their light cotton garments into shredsso that they were all practically naked, while their bodies were scratched andbleeding from countless wounds inflicted by sharp thorns and tangled bramblesthrough which they had forced their way.

Bulan still carried his heavy bull whip while his five companions were armedwith the parangs they had taken from the Dyaks they had overpowered upon theisland at the mouth of the river. It was upon this strange and remarkablecompany that the sharp eyes of a score of river Dyaks peered through thefoliage. The head hunters had been engaged in collecting camphor crystals whentheir quick ears caught the noisy passage of the six while yet at aconsiderable distance, and with ready parangs the savages crept stealthilytoward the sound of the advancing party.

At first they were terror stricken at the hideous visages of five of thecreatures they beheld, but when they saw how few their numbers, and how poorlyarmed they were, as well as the awkwardness with which they carried theirparangs, denoting their unfamiliarity with the weapons, they took heart andprepared to ambush them.

What prizes those terrible heads would be when properly dried and decorated!The savages fairly trembled in anticipation of the commotion they would causein the precincts of their long-house when they returned with six suchmagnificent trophies.

Their victims came blundering on through the dense jungle to where the twentysleek brown warriors lay in wait for them. Bulan was in the lead, and closebehind him in single file lumbered his awkward crew. Suddenly there was achorus of savage cries close beside him and simultaneously he found himself inthe midst of twenty cutting, slashing parangs.

Like lightning his bull whip flew into action, and to the astonished warriorsit was as though a score of men were upon them in the person of this mightywhite giant. Following the example of their leader the five creatures at hisback leaped upon the nearest warriors, and though they wielded their parangsawkwardly the superhuman strength back of their cuts and thrusts sent thealready blood stained blades through many a brown body.

The Dyaks would gladly have retreated after the first surprise of their initialattack, but Bulan urged his men on after them, and so they were forced to fightto preserve their lives at all. At last five of them managed to escape into thejungle, but fifteen remained quietly upon the earth where they hadfallen—the victims of their own over confidence. Beside them lay two ofBulan’s five, so that now the little party was reduced to four—andthe problem that had faced Professor Maxon was so much closer to its ownsolution.

From the bodies of the dead Dyaks Bulan and his three companions, Number Three,Number Ten, and Number Twelve, took enough loin cloths, caps, war-coats,shields and weapons to fit them out completely, after discarding the raggedremnants of their cotton pajamas, and now, even more terrible in appearancethan before, the rapidly vanishing company of soulless monsters continued theiraimless wandering down the river’s brim.

The five Dyaks who had escaped carried the news of the terrible creatures thathad fallen upon them in the jungle, and of the awful prowess of the giant whiteman who led them. They told of how, armed only with a huge whip, he had been amatch and more than a match for the best warriors of the tribe, and the newsthat they started spread rapidly down the river from one long-house to anotheruntil it reached the broad stream into which the smaller river flowed, and thenit travelled up and down to the headwaters above and the ocean far below in theremarkable manner that news travels in the wild places of the world.

So it was that as Bulan advanced he found the long-houses in his path deserted,and came to the larger river and turned up toward its head without meeting withresistance or even catching a glimpse of the brown-skinned people who watchedhim from their hiding places in the brush.

That night they slept in the long-house near the bank of the greater stream,while its rightful occupants made the best of it in the jungle behind. The nextmorning found the four again on the march ere the sun had scarcely lighted thedark places of the forest, for Bulan was now sure that he was on the righttrail and that the new river that he had come to was indeed the same that hehad traversed in the Prahu with Barunda.

It must have been close to noon when the young giant’s ears caught thesound of the movement of some animal in the jungle a short distance to hisright and away from the river. His experience with men had taught him to bewary, for it was evident that every man’s hand was against him, so hedetermined to learn at once whether the noise he heard came from some humanenemy lurking along his trail ready to spring upon him with naked parang at amoment that he was least prepared, or merely from some jungle brute.

Cautiously he threaded his way through the matted vegetation in the directionof the sound. Although a parang from the body of a vanquished Dyak hung at hisside he grasped his bull whip ready in his right hand, preferring it to theless accustomed weapon of the head hunter. For a dozen yards he advancedwithout sighting the object of his search, but presently his efforts wererewarded by a glimpse of a reddish, hairy body, and a pair of close set, wickedeyes peering at him from behind a giant tree.

At the same instant a slight movement at one side attracted his attention towhere another similar figure crouched in the underbrush, and then a third,fourth and fifth became evident about him. Bulan looked in wonderment upon thestrange, man-like creatures who eyed him threateningly from every hand. Theystood fully as high as the brown Dyak warriors, but their bodies were nakedexcept for the growth of reddish hair which covered them, shading to black uponthe face and hands.

The lips of the nearest were raised in an angry snarl that exposed wickedlooking fighting fangs, but the beasts did not seem inclined to initiatehostilities, and as they were unarmed and evidently but engaged upon their ownaffairs Bulan decided to withdraw without arousing them further. As he turnedto retrace his steps he found his three companions gazing in wide-eyedastonishment upon the strange new creatures which confronted them.

Number Ten was grinning broadly, while Number Three advanced cautiously towardone of the creatures, making a low guttural noise, that could only beinterpreted as peaceful and conciliatory—more like a feline purr it wasthan anything else.

“What are you doing?” cried Bulan. “Leave them alone. Theyhave not offered to harm us.”

“They are like us,” replied Number Three. “They must be ourown people. I am going with them.”

“And I,” said Number Ten.

“And I,” echoed Number Twelve. “At last we have found ourown, let us all go with them and live with them, far away from the men whowould beat us with great whips, and cut us with their sharp swords.”

“They are not human beings,” exclaimed Bulan. “We cannot livewith them.”

“Neither are we human beings,” retorted Number Twelve. “Hasnot von Horn told us so many times?”

“If I am not now a human being,” replied Bulan, “I intend tobe one, and so I shall act as a human being should act. I shall not go to livewith savage beasts, nor shall you. Come with me as I tell you, or you shallagain taste the bull whip.”

“We shall do as we please,” growled Number Ten, baring his fangs.“You are not our master. We have followed you as long as we intend to. Weare tired of forever walking, walking, walking through the bushes that tear ourflesh and hurt us. Go and be a human being if you think you can, but do notlonger interfere with us or we shall kill you,” and he looked first atNumber Three and then at Number Twelve for approval of his ultimatum.

Number Three nodded his grotesque and hideous head—he was so covered withlong black hair that he more nearly resembled an ourang outang than a humanbeing. Number Twelve looked doubtful.

“I think Number Ten is right,” he said at last. “We are nothuman. We have no souls. We are things. And while you, Bulan, are beautiful,yet you are as much a soulless thing as we—that much von Horn taught uswell. So I believe that it would be better were we to keep forever from thesight of men. I do not much like the thought of living with these strange,hairy monsters, but we might find a place here in the jungle where we couldlive alone and in peace.”

“I do not want to live alone,” cried Number Three. “I want amate, and I see a beautiful one yonder now. I am going after her,” andwith that he again started toward a female ourang outang; but the lady baredher fangs and retreated before his advance.

“Even the beasts will have none of us,” cried Number Ten angrily.“Let us take them by force then,” and he started after NumberThree.

“Come back!” shouted Bulan, leaping after the two deserters.

As he raised his voice there came an answering cry from a little distanceahead—a cry for help, and it was in the agonized tones of a woman’svoice.

“I am coming!” shouted Bulan, and without another glance at hismutinous crew he sprang through the line of menacing ourang outangs.

12
PERFIDY

On the morning that Bulan set out with his three monsters from the desertedlong-house in which they had spent the night, Professor Maxon’s party wasspeeding up the river, constantly buoyed with hope by the repeated reports ofnatives that the white girl had been seen passing in a war prahu.

In translating this information to Professor Maxon, von Horn habitually made itappear that the girl was in the hands of Number Thirteen, or Bulan, as they hadnow come to call him owing to the natives’ constant use of that name inspeaking of the strange, and formidable white giant who had invaded their land.

At the last long-house below the gorge, the head of which had witnessedVirginia Maxon’s escape from the clutches of Ninaka and Barunda, thesearching party was forced to stop owing to a sudden attack of fever which hadprostrated the professor. Here they found a woman who had a strange tale torelate of a remarkable sight she had witnessed that very morning.

It seemed that she had been straining tapioca in a little stream which flowedout of the jungle at the rear of the long-house when her attention wasattracted by the crashing of an animal through the bushes a few yards aboveher. As she looked she saw a huge Mias Pappancross the stream, bearingin his arms the dead, or unconscious form of a white-skinned girl with goldenhair.

Her description of the Mias Pappanwas such as to half convince von Hornthat she might have seen Number Three carrying Virginia Maxon, although hecould not reconcile the idea with the story that the two Dyaks had told him oflosing all of Bulan’s monsters in the jungle.

Of course it was possible that they might have made their way over land to thispoint, but it seemed scarcely credible—and then, how could they have comeinto possession of Virginia Maxon, whom every report except this last agreedwas still in the hands of Ninaka and Barunda. There was always the possibilitythat the natives had lied to him, and the more he questioned the Dyak woman themore firmly convinced he became that this was the fact.

The outcome of it was that von Horn finally decided to make an attempt tofollow the trail of the creature that the woman had seen, and with this plan inview persuaded Muda Saffir to arrange with the chief of the long-house at whichthey then were to furnish him with trackers and an escort of warriors,promising them some splendid heads should they be successful in overhaulingBulan and his pack.

Professor Maxon was too ill to accompany the expedition, and von Horn set outalone with his Dyak allies. For a time after they departed Sing Lee fretted andfidgeted upon the verandah of the long-house. He wholly distrusted von Horn,and from motives of his own finally decided to follow him. The trail of theparty was plainly discernible, and the Chinaman had no difficulty in followingthem, so that they had gone no great way before he came within hearing distanceof them. Always just far enough behind to be out of sight, he kept pace withthe little column as it marched through the torrid heat of the morning, until alittle after noon he was startled by the sudden cry of a woman in distress, andthe answering shout of a man.

The voices came from a point in the jungle a little to his right and behindhim, and without waiting for the column to return, or even to ascertain if theyhad heard the cries, Sing ran rapidly in the direction of the alarm. For a timehe saw nothing, but was guided by the snapping of twigs and the rustling ofbushes ahead, where the authors of the commotion were evidently moving swiftlythrough the jungle.

Presently a strange sight burst upon his astonished vision. It was the hideousNumber Three in mad pursuit of a female ourang outang, and an instant later hesaw Number Twelve and Number Ten in battle with two males, while beyond heheard the voice of a man shouting encouragement to some one as he dashedthrough the jungle. It was in this last event that Sing’s interestcentered, for he was sure that he recognized the voice as that of Bulan, whilethe first cry for help which he had heard had been in a woman’s voice,and Sing knew that its author could be none other than Virginia Maxon.

Those whom he pursued were moving rapidly through the jungle which was nowbecoming more and more open, but the Chinaman was no mean runner, and it wasnot long before he drew within sight of the object of his pursuit.

His first glimpse was of Bulan, running swiftly between two huge bull ourangoutangs that snapped and tore at him as he bounded forward cutting and slashingat his foes with his heavy whip. Just in front of the trio was another bullbearing in his arms the unconscious form of Virginia Maxon who had fainted atthe first response to her cry for help. Sing was armed with a heavy revolverbut he dared not attempt to use it for fear that he might wound either Bulan orthe girl, and so he was forced to remain but a passive spectator of whatensued.

Bulan, notwithstanding the running battle the two bulls were forcing upon him,was gaining steadily upon the fleeing ourang outang that was handicapped by theweight of the fair captive he bore in his huge, hairy arms. As they came into anatural clearing in the jungle the fleeing bull glanced back to see his pursueralmost upon him, and with an angry roar turned to meet the charge.

In another instant Bulan and the three bulls were rolling and tumbling aboutthe ground, a mass of flying fur and blood from which rose fierce and angryroars and growls, while Virginia Maxon lay quietly upon the sward where hercaptor had dropped her.

Sing was about to rush forward and pick her up, when he saw von Horn and hisDyaks leap into the clearing, to which they had been guided by the sounds ofthe chase and the encounter. The doctor halted at the sight that met hiseyes—the prostrate form of the girl and the man battling with three hugebulls.

Then he gathered up Virginia Maxon, and with a sign to his Dyaks, who werethoroughly frightened at the mere sight of the white giant of whom they hadheard such terrible stories, turned and hastened back in the direction fromwhich they had come, leaving the man to what seemed must be a speedy andhorrible death.

Sing Lee was astounded at the perfidy of the act. To Bulan alone was due theentire credit of having rescued Professor Maxon’s daughter, and yet inthe very presence of his self-sacrificing loyalty and devotion von Horn haddeserted him without making the least attempt to aid him. But the wrinkled oldChinaman was made of different metal, and had started forward to assist Bulanwhen a heavy hand suddenly fell upon his shoulder. Looking around he saw thehideous face of Number Ten snarling into his. The bloodshot eyes of the monsterwere flaming with rage. He had been torn and chewed by the bull with which hehad fought, and though he had finally overcome and killed the beast, a femalewhich he had pursued had eluded him. In a frenzy of passion and blood lustaroused by his wounds, disappointment and the taste of warm blood which stillsmeared his lips and face, he had been seeking the female when he suddenlystumbled upon the hapless Sing.

With a roar he grasped the Chinaman as though to break him in two, but Sing wasnot at all inclined to give up his life without a struggle, and Number Ten wasquick to learn that no mean muscles moved beneath that wrinkled, yellow hide.

There could, however, have been but one outcome to the unequal struggle hadSing not been armed with a revolver, though it was several seconds before hecould bring it into play upon the great thing that shook and tossed him aboutas though he had been a rat in the mouth of a terrier. But suddenly there wasthe sharp report of a firearm, and another of Professor Maxon’s unhappyexperiments sank back into the nothingness from which he had conjured it.

Then Sing turned his attention to Bulan and his three savage assailants, but,except for the dead body of a bull ourang outang upon the spot where he hadlast seen the four struggling, there was no sign either of the white man or hisantagonists; nor, though he listened attentively, could he catch the slightestsound within the jungle other than the rustling of the leaves and the raucouscries of the brilliant birds that flitted among the gorgeous blooms about him.

For half an hour he searched in every direction, but finally, fearing that hemight become lost in the mazes of the unfamiliar forest he reluctantly turnedhis face toward the river and the long-house that sheltered his party.

Here he found Professor Maxon much improved—the safe return of Virginiahaving acted as a tonic upon him. The girl and her father sat with von Hornupon the verandah of the long-house as Sing clambered up the notched log thatled to it from the ground. At sight of Sing’s wrinkled old face VirginiaMaxon sprang to her feet and ran forward to greet him, for she had been veryfond of the shrewd and kindly Chinaman of whom she had seen so much during thedreary months of her imprisonment within the campong.

“Oh, Sing,” she cried, “where have you been? We were all soworried to think that no sooner was one of us rescued than another becamelost.”

“Sing takee walk, Linee, las all,” said the grinning Chinaman.“Velly glad see Linee black ’gain,” and that was all thatSing Lee had to say of the adventures through which he had just passed, and thestrange sights that he had seen.

Again and again the girl and von Horn narrated the stirring scenes of the day,the latter being compelled to repeat all that had transpired from the momentthat he had heard Virginia’s cry, though it was apparent that he onlyconsented to speak of his part in her rescue under the most considerableurging. Very pretty modesty, thought Sing when he had heard the doctor’sversion of the affair.

“You see,” said von Horn, “when I reached the spot NumberThree, the brute that you thought was an ape, had just turned you over toNumber Thirteen, or, as the natives now call him, Bulan. You were then in afaint, and when I attacked Bulan he dropped you to defend himself. I hadexpected a bitter fight from him after the wild tales the natives have beentelling of his ferocity, but it was soon evident that he is an arrant coward,for I did not even have to fire my revolver—a few thumps with the butt ofit upon his brainless skull sent him howling into the jungle with his pack athis heels.”

“How fortunate it is, my dear doctor,” said Professor Maxon,“that you were bright enough to think of trailing the miscreant into thejungle. But for that Virginia would still be in his clutches and by this timehe would have been beyond all hope of capture. How can we ever repay you, dearfriend?”

“That you were generous enough to arrange when we first embarked upon thesearch for your daughter,” replied von Horn.

“Just so, just so,” said the professor, but a shade of troubletinged the expression of his face, and a moment later he arose, saying that hefelt weak and tired and would go to his sleeping room and lie down for a while.The fact was that Professor Maxon regretted the promise he had made von Hornrelative to his daughter.

Once before he had made plans for her marriage only to regret them later; hehoped that he had made no mistake this time, but he realized that it hadscarcely been fair to Virginia to promise her to his assistant without firstobtaining her consent. Yet a promise was a promise, and, again, was it not truethat but for von Horn she would have been dead or worse than dead in a shorttime had she not been rescued from the clutches of the soulless Bulan? Thus didthe old man justify his action, and clinch the determination that he had beforereached to compel Virginia to wed von Horn should she, from someincomprehensible motive, demur. Yet he hoped that the girl would make it easy,by accepting voluntarily the man who had saved her life.

Left alone, or as he thought alone, with the girl in the growing shadows of theevening, von Horn thought the moment propitious for renewing his suit. He didnot consider the natives squatting about them as of sufficient consequence toconsider, since they would not understand the language in which he addressedVirginia, and in the dusk he failed to note that Sing squatted with the Dyaks,close behind them.

“Virginia,” he commenced, after an interval of silence,“often before have I broached the subject nearest to my heart, yet neverhave you given me much encouragement. Can you not feel for the man who wouldgladly give his life for you, sufficient affection to permit you to make himthe happiest man in the world? I do not ask for all your love atfirst—that will come later. Just give me the right to cherish and protectyou. Say that you will be my wife, Virginia, and we need have no more fearsthat the strange vagaries of your father’s mind can ever again jeopardizeyour life or your happiness as they have in the past.”

“I feel that I owe you my life,” replied the girl in a quiet voice,“and while I am now positive that my father has entirely regained hissanity, and looks with as great abhorrence upon the terrible fate he plannedfor me as I myself, I cannot forget the debt of gratitude which belongs to you.

“At the same time I do not wish to be the means of making you unhappy, assurely would be the result were I to marry you without love. Let us wait untilI know myself better. Though you have spoken to me of the matter before, Irealize now that I never have made any effort to determine whether or not Ireally can love you. There is time enough before we reach civilization, if everwe are fortunate enough to do so at all. Will you not be as generous as you arebrave, and give me a few days before I must make you a final answer?”

With Professor Maxon’s solemn promise to insure his ultimate success vonHorn was very gentle and gracious in deferring to the girl’s wishes. Thegirl for her part could not put from her mind the disappointment she had feltwhen she discovered that her rescuer was von Horn, and not the handsome younggiant whom she had been positive was in close pursuit of her abductors.

When Number Thirteen had been mentioned she had always pictured him as ahideous monster, similar to the creature that had seized her in the junglebeside the encampment that first day she had seen the mysterious stranger, ofwhom she could obtain no information either from her father or von Horn. Whenshe had recently insisted that the same man had been at the head of herfather’s creatures in an attempt to rescue her, both von Horn andProfessor Maxon scoffed at the idea, until at last she was convinced that thefright and the firelight had conspired to conjure in her brain the likeness ofone who was linked by memory to another time of danger and despair.

Virginia could not understand why it was that the face of the strangerpersisted in obtruding itself in her memory. That the man was unusually goodlooking was undeniable, but she had known many good looking men, nor was sheespecially impressionable to mere superficial beauty. No words had passedbetween them on the occasion of their first meeting, so it could have beennothing that he said which caused the memory of him to cling so tenaciously inher mind.

What was it then? Was it the memory of the moments that she had lain in hisstrong arms—was it the shadow of the sweet, warm glow that had suffusedher as his eyes had caught hers upon his face?

The thing was tantalizing—it was annoying. The girl blushed inmortification at the very thought that she could cling so resolutely to thememory of a total stranger, and—still greater humiliation—long inthe secret depths of her soul to see him again.

She was angry with herself, but the more she tried to forget the young giantwho had come into her life for so brief an instant, the more she speculatedupon his identity and the strange fate that had brought him to their little,savage island only to snatch him away again as mysteriously as he had come, theless was the approval with which she looked upon the suit of Doctor von Horn.

Von Horn had left her, and strolled down to the river. Finally Virginia aroseto seek the crude couch which had been spread for her in one of the sleepingrooms of the long-house. As she passed a group of natives squatted nearby oneof the number arose and approached her, and as she halted, half in fright, alow voice whispered:

“Lookee out, Linee, dloctor Hornee velly bad man.”

“Why, Sing!” exclaimed Virginia. “What in the world do youmean by saying such a thing as that?”

“Never mind, Linee; you always good to old Sing. Sing no likee see yousadee. Dloctor Hornee velly bad man, las allee,” and without another wordthe Chinaman turned and walked away.

13
BURIED TREASURE

After the escape of the girl Barunda and Ninaka had fallen out over that affairand the division of the treasure, with the result that the panglima had slippeda knife between the ribs of his companion and dropped the body overboard.

Barunda’s followers, however, had been highly enraged at the act, and inthe ensuing battle which they waged for revenge of their murdered chief Ninakaand his crew had been forced to take to the shore and hide in the jungle.

With difficulty they had saved the chest and dragged it after them into themazes of the underbrush. Finally, however, they succeeded in eluding the angryenemy, and took up their march through the interior for the head of a riverwhich would lead them to the sea by another route, it being Ninaka’sintention to dispose of the contents of the chest as quickly as possiblethrough the assistance of a rascally Malay who dwelt at Gunung Tebor, where hecarried on a thriving trade with pirates.

But presently it became apparent that he had not so easily escaped the fruitsof his villainy as he had supposed, for upon the evening of the first day therear of his little column was attacked by some of Barunda’s warriors whohad forged ahead of their fellows, with the result that the head ofNinaka’s brother went to increase the prestige and glory of the house ofthe enemy.

Ninaka was panic-stricken, since he knew that hampered as he was by the heavychest he could neither fight nor run to advantage. And so, upon a dark nightnear the head waters of the river he sought, he buried the treasure at the footof a mighty buttress tree, and with his parang made certain cabalistic signsupon the bole whereby he might identify the spot when it was safe to return anddisinter his booty. Then, with his men, he hastened down the stream until theyreached the head of prahu navigation where they stole a craft and paddledswiftly on toward the sea.

When the three bull ourang outangs closed upon Bulan he felt no fear as to theoutcome of the battle, for never in his experience had he coped with anymuscles that his own mighty thews could not overcome. But as the battlecontinued he realized that there might be a limit to the number of antagonistswhich he could successfully withstand, since he could scarcely hope with buttwo hands to reach the throats of three enemies, or ward off the blows andclutches of six powerful hands, or the gnashing of three sets of savage fangs.

When the truth dawned upon him that he was being killed the instinct ofself-preservation was born in him. The ferocity with which he had fought beforepaled into insignificance beside the mad fury with which he now attacked thethree terrible creatures upon him. Shaking himself like a great lion he freedhis arms for a moment from the clinging embrace of his foemen, and seizing theneck of the nearest in his mighty clutch wrenched the head completely around.

There was one awful shriek from the tortured brute—the vertebrae partedwith a snap, and Bulan’s antagonists were reduced to two. Lunging andstruggling the three combatants stumbled farther and farther into the junglebeyond the clearing. With mighty blows the man buffeted the beasts to right andleft, but ever they returned in bestial rage to renew the encounter. Bulan wasweakening rapidly under the terrific strain to which he had been subjected, andfrom loss of the blood which flowed from his wounds; yet he was slowlymastering the foaming brutes, who themselves were torn and bleeding andexhausted. Weaker and weaker became the struggles of them all, when a suddenmisstep sent Bulan stumbling headforemost against the stem of a tree, where,stunned, he sank unconscious, at the mercy of the relentless bulls.

They had already sprung upon the prostrate form of their victim to finish whatthe accident had commenced, when the loud report of Sing’s revolver smoteupon their startled ears as the Chinaman’s bullet buried itself in theheart of Number Ten. Never had the ourang outangs heard the sound of a firearm,and the noise, seemingly in such close proximity, filled them with such terrorthat on the instant they forgot all else than this new and startling fear, andwith headlong haste leaped away into the jungle, leaving Bulan lying where hehad fallen.

So it was that though Sing passed within a few paces of the unconscious man heneither saw nor heard aught of him or his antagonists.

When Bulan returned to consciousness the day was drawing to a close. He wasstiff and sore and weak. His head ached horribly. He thought that he mustindeed be dying, for how could one who suffered so revive? But at last hemanaged to stagger to his feet, and finally to reach the stream along which hehad been travelling earlier in the day. Here he quenched his thirst and bathedhis wounds, and as darkness came he lay down to sleep upon a bed of mattedgrasses.

The next morning found him refreshed and in considerably less pain, for thepowers of recuperation which belonged to his perfect health and mighty physiquehad already worked an almost miraculous transformation in him. While he washunting in the jungle for his breakfast he came suddenly upon Number Three andNumber Twelve similarly employed.

At sight of him the two creatures started to run away, but he called to themreassuringly and they returned. On closer inspection Bulan saw that both werecovered with terrible wounds, and after questioning them learned that they hadfared almost as badly at the hands of the ourang outangs as had he.

“Even the beasts loathe us,” exclaimed Number Twelve. “Whatare we to do?”

“Leave the beasts alone, as I told you,” replied Bulan.

“Human beings hate us also,” persisted Number Twelve.

“Then let us live by ourselves,” suggested Number Three.

“We hate each other,” retorted the pessimistic Number Twelve.“There is no place for us in the world, and no companionship. We are butsoulless things.”

“Stop!” cried Bulan. “I am not a soulless thing. I am a man,and within me is as fine and pure a soul as any man may own,” and to hismind’s eye came the vision of a fair face surmounted by a mass of looselywaving, golden hair; but the brainless ones could not understand and only shooktheir heads as they resumed their feeding and forgot the subject.

When the three had satisfied the cravings of their appetites two of them werefor lying down to sleep until it should be time to feed again, but Bulan, oncemore master, would not permit it, and forced them to accompany him in hisseemingly futile search for the girl who had disappeared so mysteriously afterhe had rescued her from the ourang outangs.

Both Number Twelve and Number Three had assured him that the beasts had notrecaptured her, for they had seen the entire band flee madly through the jungleafter hearing the report of the single shot which had so terrorizedBulan’s antagonists. Bulan did not know what to make of this occurrencewhich he had not himself heard, the shot having come after he had lostconsciousness at the foot of the tree; but from the description of the noisegiven him by Number Twelve he felt sure that it must have been the report of agun, and hoped that it betokened the presence of Virginia Maxon’sfriends, and that she was now safe in their keeping.

Nevertheless he did not relinquish his determination to continue his search forher, since it was quite possible that the gun had been fired by a native, manyof whom possessed firearms. His first concern was for the girl’s welfare,which spoke eloquently for the chivalry of his character, and though he wishedto see her for the pleasure that it would give him, the hope of serving her wasever the first consideration in his mind.

He was now confident that he was following the wrong direction, and with theintention in view of discovering the tracks of the party which had rescued orcaptured Virginia after he had been forced to relinquish her, he set out in atotally new direction away from the river. His small woodcraft and littleexperience in travelling resulted in his becoming completely confused, so thatinstead of returning to the spot where he had last seen the girl, as he wishedto do, he bore far to the northeast of the place, and missed entirely the pathwhich von Horn and his Dyaks had taken from the long-house into the jungle andback.

All that day he urged his reluctant companions on through the fearful heat ofthe tropics until, almost exhausted, they halted at dusk upon the bank of ariver, where they filled their stomachs with cooling draughts, and after eatinglay down to sleep. It was quite dark when Bulan was aroused by the sound ofsomething approaching from up the river, and as he lay listening he presentlyheard the subdued voices of men conversing in whispers. He recognized thelanguage as that of the Dyaks, though he could interpret nothing which theysaid.

Presently he saw a dozen warriors emerge into a little patch of moonlight. Theybore a huge chest among them which they deposited within a few paces of whereBulan lay. Then they commenced to dig in the soft earth with their spears andparangs until they had excavated a shallow pit. Into this they lowered thechest, covering it over with earth and sprinkling dead grass, twigs and leavesabove it, that it might present to a searcher no sign that the ground hadrecently been disturbed. The balance of the loose earth which would not go backinto the pit was thrown into the river.

When all had been made to appear as it was before, one of the warriors madeseveral cuts and scratches upon the stem of a tree which grew above the spotwhere the chest was buried; then they hastened on in silence past Bulan anddown the river.

As von Horn stood by the river’s bank after his conversation withVirginia, he saw a small sampan approaching from up stream. In it he made outtwo natives, and the stealthiness of their approach caused him to withdraw intothe shadow of a large prahu which was beached close to where he had beenstanding.

When the men had come close to the landing one of them gave a low signal, andpresently a native came down from the long-house.

“Who is it comes by night?” he asked. “And what wantyou?”

“News has just reached us that Muda Saffir is alive,” replied oneof the men in the boat, “and that he sleeps this night in yourlong-house. Is it true?”

“Yes,” answered the man on shore. “What do you wish of theRajah Muda Saffir?”

“We are men of his company and we have news for him,” returned thespeaker in the sampan. “Tell him that we must speak to him atonce.”

The native on shore returned to the long-house without replying. Von Hornwondered what the important news for Muda Saffir might be, and so he remainedas he had been, concealed behind the prahu.

Presently the old Malay came down to the water’s edge—very warilythough—and asked the men whom they might be. When they had given theirnames he seemed relieved.

“Ninaka,” they said, “has murdered Barunda who was taking therajah’s treasure up to the rajah’s stronghold—the treasurewhich Ninaka had stolen after trying to murder the rajah and which Barunda hadrecaptured. Now Ninaka, after murdering Barunda, set off through the jungletoward the river which leads to Gunung Tebor, and Barunda’s unclefollowed him with what few men he had with him; but he sent us down river totry and find you, master, and beg of you to come with many men and overtakeNinaka and punish him.”

Muda Saffir thought for a moment.

“Hasten back to the uncle of Barunda and tell him that as soon as I cangather the warriors I shall come and punish Ninaka. I have another treasurehere which I must not lose, but I can arrange that it will still be here when Ireturn for it, and then Barunda’s uncle can come back with me to assistme if assistance is needed. Also, be sure to tell Barunda’s uncle neverto lose sight of the treasure,” and Muda Saffir turned and hastened backto the long-house.

As the men in the sampan headed the boat’s bow up stream again, von Hornran along the jungle trail beside the river and abreast of the paddlers. Whenhe thought that they were out of hearing of the long-house he hailed the two.In startled surprise the men ceased paddling.

“Who are you and what do you want?” asked one.

“I am the man to whom the chest belongs,” replied von Horn.“If you will take me to Barunda’s uncle before Muda Saffir reacheshim you shall each have the finest rifles that the white man makes, withammunition enough to last you a year. All I ask is that you guide me withinsight of the party that pursues Ninaka; then you may leave me and tell no onewhat you have done, nor will I tell any. What say you?”

The two natives consulted together in low tones. At last they drew nearer theshore.

“Will you give us each a bracelet of brass as well as the rifles?”asked the spokesman.

Von Horn hesitated. He knew the native nature well. To have acquiesced tooreadily would have been to have invited still further demands from them.

“Only the rifles and ammunition,” he said at last, “unlessyou succeed in keeping the knowledge of my presence from both Barunda’suncle and Muda Saffir. If you do that you shall have the bracelets also.”

The prow of the sampan touched the bank.

“Come!” said one of the warriors.

Von Horn stepped aboard. He was armed only with a brace of Colts, and he wasgoing into the heart of the wild country of the head hunters, to pit his witsagainst those of the wily Muda Saffir. His guides were two savage head huntingwarriors of a pirate crew from whom he hoped to steal what they considered afabulously rich treasure. Whatever sins might be laid to the door of thedoctor, there could be no question but that he was a very brave man!

Von Horn’s rash adventure had been suggested by the hope that he might,by bribing some of the natives with Barunda’s uncle, make way with thetreasure before Muda Saffir arrived to claim it, or, failing that, learn itsexact whereabouts that he might return for it with an adequate force later.That he was taking his life in his hands he well knew, but so great was theman’s cupidity that he reckoned no risk too great for the acquirement ofa fortune.

The two Dyaks, paddling in silence up the dark river, proceeded for nearlythree hours before they drew in to the bank and dragged the sampan up into thebushes. Then they set out upon a narrow trail into the jungle. It so happenedthat after travelling for several miles they inadvertently took another paththan that followed by the party under Barunda’s uncle, so that theypassed the latter without being aware of it, going nearly half a mile to theright of where the trailers camped a short distance from the bivouac of Ninaka.

In the dead of night Ninaka and his party had crawled away under the very nosesof the avengers, taking the chest with them, and by chance von Horn and the twoDyaks cut back into the main trail along the river almost at the very pointthat Ninaka halted to bury the treasure.

And so it was that Bulan was not the only one who watched the hiding of thechest.

When Ninaka had disappeared down the river trail Bulan lay speculating upon thestrange actions he had witnessed. He wondered why the men should dig a hole inthe midst of the jungle to hide away the box which he had so often seen inProfessor Maxon’s workshop. It occurred to him that it might be well toremember just where the thing was buried, so that he could lead the professorto it should he ever see the old man again. As he lay thus, half dozing, hisattention was attracted by a stealthy rustling in the bushes nearby, and as hewatched he was dumbfounded to see von Horn creep out into the moonlight. Amoment later the man was followed by two Dyaks. The three stood conversing inlow tones, pointing repeatedly at the spot where the chest lay hidden. Bulancould understand but little of their conversation, but it was evident that vonHorn was urging some proposition to which the warriors demurred.

Suddenly, without an instant’s warning, von Horn drew his gun, wheeled,and fired point-blank, first at one of his companions, then at the other. Bothmen fell in their tracks, and scarcely had the pungent odor of the powder smokereached Bulan’s nostrils ere the white man had plunged into the jungleand disappeared.

Failing in his attempt to undermine the loyalty of the two Dyaks von Horn hadchosen the only other way to keep the knowledge of the whereabouts of the chestfrom Barunda’s uncle and Muda Saffir, and now his principal interest inlife was to escape the vengeance of the head hunters and return to thelong-house before his absence should be detected.

There he could form a party of natives and set out to regain the chest afterMuda Saffir and Barunda’s uncle had given up the quest. That suspicionshould fall on him seemed scarcely credible since the only men who knew that hehad left the long-house that night lay dead upon the very spot where thetreasure reposed.

14
MAN OR MONSTER?

When Muda Saffir turned from the two Dyaks who had brought him news of thetreasure he hastened to the long-house and arousing the chief of the tribe whodomiciled there explained that necessity required that the rajah have at oncetwo war prahus fully manned. Now the power of the crafty old Malay extendedfrom one end of this great river on which the long-house lay to the other, andthough not all the tribes admitted allegiance to him, yet there were few whowould not furnish him with men and boats when he required them; for hispiratical cruises carried him often up and down the stream, and with his savagehorde it was possible for him to wreak summary and terrible vengeance uponthose who opposed him.

When he had explained his wishes to the chief, the latter, though at hearthating and fearing Muda Saffir, dared not refuse; but to a second propositionhe offered strong opposition until the rajah threatened to wipe out his entiretribe should he not accede to his demands.

The thing which the chief demurred to had occurred to Muda Saffir even as hewalked back from the river after conversing with the two Dyak messengers. Thethought of regaining the treasure, the while he administered punishment to thetraitorous Ninaka, filled his soul with savage happiness. Now if he could butonce more possess himself of the girl! And why not? There was only the sick oldman, a Chinaman and von Horn to prevent it, and the chances were that they allwere asleep.

So he explained to the chief the plan that had so suddenly sprung to his wickedmind.

“Three men with parangs may easily quiet the old man, his assistant andthe Chinaman,” he said, “and then we can take the girl along withus.”

The chief refused at first, point-blank, to be a party to any such proceedings.He knew what had happened to the Sakkaran Dyaks after they had murdered a partyof Englishmen, and he did not purpose laying himself and his tribe open to thevengeance of the white men who came in many boats and with countless guns andcannon to take a terrible toll for every drop of white blood spilled.

So it was that Muda Saffir was forced to compromise, and be satisfied with thechief’s assistance in abducting the girl, for it was not so difficult amatter to convince the head hunter that she really had belonged to the rajah,and that she had been stolen from him by the old man and the doctor.

Virginia slept in a room with three Dyak women. It was to this apartment thatthe chief finally consented to dispatch two of his warriors. The men creptnoiselessly within the pitch dark interior until they came to the sleeping formof one of the Dyak women. Cautiously they awoke her.

“Where is the white girl?” asked one of the men in a low whisper.“Muda Saffir has sent us for her. Tell her that her father is very sickand wants her, but do not mention Muda Saffir’s name lest she might notcome.”

The whispering awakened Virginia and she lay wondering what the cause of themidnight conference might be, for she recognized that one of the speakers was aman, and there had been no man in the apartment when she had gone to sleepearlier in the night.

Presently she heard some one approach her, and a moment later a woman’svoice addressed her; but she could not understand enough of the native tongueto make out precisely the message the speaker wished to convey. The words“father,” “sick,” and “come,” however shefinally understood after several repetitions, for she had picked up asmattering of the Dyak language during her enforced association with thenatives.

The moment that the possibilities suggested by these few words dawned upon her,she sprang to her feet and followed the woman toward the door of the apartment.Immediately without the two warriors stood upon the verandah awaiting theirvictim, and as Virginia passed through the doorway she was seized roughly fromeither side, a heavy hand was clapped over her mouth, and before she could makeeven an effort to rebel she had been dragged to the end of the verandah, downthe notched log to the ground and a moment later found herself in a war prahuwhich was immediately pushed into the stream.

Since Virginia had come to the long-house after her rescue from the ourangoutangs, supposedly by von Horn, Rajah Muda Saffir had kept very much out ofsight, for he knew that should the girl see him she would recognize him as theman who had stolen her from the Ithaca. So it came as a mighty shock to thegirl when she heard the hated tones of the man whom she had knocked overboardfrom the prahu two nights before, and realized that the bestial Malay sat closebeside her, and that she was again in his power. She looked now for no mercy,nor could she hope to again escape him so easily as she had before, and so shesat with bowed head in the bottom of the swiftly moving craft, buried inanguished thoughts, hopeless and miserable.

Along the stretch of black river that the prahu and her consort covered thatnight Virginia Maxon saw no living thing other than a single figure in a smallsampan which hugged the shadows of the shore as the two larger boats met andpassed it, nor answered their hail.

Where von Horn and his two Dyak guides had landed, Muda Saffir’s forcedisembarked and plunged into the jungle. Rapidly they hastened along the wellknown trail toward the point designated by the two messengers, to come upon thespot almost simultaneously with the party under Barunda’s uncle, who,startled by the two shots several hours previously, had been cautiouslysearching through the jungle for an explanation of them.

They had gone warily for fear that they might stumble upon Ninaka’s partybefore Muda Saffir arrived with reinforcements, and but just now had theydiscovered the prostrate forms of their two companions. One was dead, but theother was still conscious and had just sufficient vitality left after thecoming of his fellows to whisper that they had been treacherously shot by theyounger white man who had been at the long-house where they had found MudaSaffir—then the fellow expired without having an opportunity to divulgethe secret hiding place of the treasure, over the top of which his body lay.

Now Bulan had been an interested witness of all that transpired. At first hehad been inclined to come out of his hiding place and follow von Horn, but somuch had already occurred beneath the branches of the great tree where thechest lay hidden that he decided to wait until morning at least, for he wassure that he had by no means seen the last of the drama which surrounded theheavy box. This belief was strengthened by the haste displayed by both Ninakaand von Horn to escape the neighborhood as quickly as possible, as though theyfeared that they might be apprehended should they delay even for a moment.

Number Three and Number Twelve still slept, not having been aroused even by theshots fired by von Horn. Bulan himself had dozed after the departure of thedoctor, but the advent of Barunda’s uncle with his followers had awakenedhim, and now he lay wide eyed and alert as the second party, under Muda Saffir,came into view when they left the jungle trail and entered the clearing.

His interest in either party was but passive until he saw the khaki blouse,short skirt and trim leggins of the captive walking between two of the Dyaks ofMuda Saffir’s company. At the same instant he recognized the evilfeatures of the rajah as those of the man who had directed the abduction ofVirginia Maxon from the wrecked Ithaca.

Like a great cat Bulan drew himself cautiously to all fours—every nerveand muscle taut with the excitement of the moment. Before him he saw a hundredand fifty ferocious Borneo head hunters, armed with parangs, spears andsumpitans. At his back slept two almost brainless creatures—his solesupport against the awful odds he must face before he could hope to succor thedivinity whose image was enshrined in his brave and simple heart.

The muscles stood out upon his giant forearm as he gripped the stock of hisbull whip. He believed that he was going to his death, for mighty as were histhews he knew that in the face of the horde they would avail him little, yet hesaw no other way than to sit supinely by while the girl went to her doom, andthat he could not do. He nudged Number Twelve. “Silence!” hewhispered, and “Come! The girl is here. We must save her. Kill themen,” and the same to the hairy and terrible Number Three.

Both the creatures awoke and rose to their hands and knees without noise thatcould be heard above the chattering of the natives, who had crowded forward toview the dead bodies of von Horn’s victims. Silently Bulan came to hisfeet, the two monsters at his back rising and pressing close behind him. Alongthe denser shadows the three crept to a position in the rear of the natives.The girl’s guards had stepped forward with the others to join in thediscussion that followed the dying statement of the murdered warrior, leavingher upon the outer fringe of the crowd.

For an instant a sudden hope of escape sprang to Virginia Maxon’smind—there was none between her and the jungle through which they hadjust passed. Though unknown dangers lurked in the black and uncanny depths ofthe dismal forest, would not death in any form be far preferable to the hideousfate which awaited her in the person of the bestial Malay pirate?

She had turned to take the first step toward freedom when three figures emergedfrom the wall of darkness behind her. She saw the war-caps, shields, andwar-coats, and her heart sank. Here were others of the rajah’sparty—stragglers who had come just in time to thwart her plans. How largethese men were—she never had seen a native of such giant proportions; andnow they had come quite close to her, and as the foremost stooped to speak toher she shrank back in fear. Then, to her surprise, she heard in whisperedEnglish; “Come quietly, while they are not looking.”

She thought the voice familiar, but could not place it, though her heartwhispered that it might belong to the young stranger of her dreams. He reachedout and took her hand and together they turned and walked quickly toward thejungle, followed by the two who had accompanied him.

Scarcely had they covered half the distance before one of the Dyaks whose dutyit had been to guard the girl discovered that she was gone. With a cry healarmed his fellows, and in another instant a sharp pair of eyes caught themovement of the four who had now broken into a run.

With savage shouts the entire force of head hunters sprang in pursuit. Bulanlifted Virginia in his arms and dashed on ahead of Number Twelve and NumberThree. A shower of poisoned darts blown from half a hundred sumpitans fellabout them, and then Muda Saffir called to his warriors to cease using theirdeadly blow-pipes lest they kill the girl.

Into the jungle dashed the four while close behind them came the howling packof enraged savages. Now one closed upon Number Three only to fall back deadwith a broken neck as the giant fingers released their hold upon him. A parangswung close to Number Twelve, but his own, which he had now learned to wieldwith fearful effect, clove through the pursuing warrior’s skull splittinghim wide to the breast bone.

Thus they fought the while they forced their way deeper and deeper into thedark mazes of the entangled vegetation. The brunt of the running battle wasborne by the two monsters, for Bulan was carrying Virginia, and keeping alittle ahead of his companions to insure the girl’s greater safety.

Now and then patches of moonlight filtering through occasional openings in theleafy roofing revealed to Virginia the battle that was being waged forpossession of her, and once, when Number Three turned toward her afterdisposing of a new assailant, she was horrified to see the grotesque andterrible face of the creature. A moment later she caught sight of NumberTwelve’s hideous face. She was appalled.

Could it be that she had been rescued from the Malay to fall into the hands ofcreatures equally heartless and entirely without souls? She glanced up at theface of him who carried her. In the darkness of the night she had not yet hadan opportunity to see the features of the man, but after a glimpse at those ofhis two companions she trembled to think of the hideous thing that might berevealed to her.

Could it be that she had at last fallen into the hands of the dreaded andterrible Number Thirteen! Instinctively she shrank from contact with the man inwhose arms she had been carried without a trace of repugnance until the thoughtobtruded itself that he might be the creature of her father’s madexperimentation, to whose arms she had been doomed by the insane obsession ofher parent.

The man shifted her now to give himself freer use of his right arm, for thesavages were pressing more closely upon Twelve and Three, and the change madeit impossible for the girl to see his face even in the more frequent moonlitplaces.

But she could see the two who ran and fought just behind them, and sheshuddered at her inevitable fate. For should the three be successful in bearingher away from the Dyaks she must face an unknown doom, while should the nativesrecapture her there was the terrible Malay into whose clutches she had alreadytwice fallen.

Now the head hunters were pressing closer, and suddenly, even as the girllooked directly at him, a spear passed through the heart of Number Three.Clutching madly at the shaft protruding from his misshapen body the grotesquething stumbled on for a dozen paces, and then sank to the ground as two of thebrown warriors sprang upon him with naked parangs. An instant later VirginiaMaxon saw the hideous and grisly head swinging high in the hand of a dancing,whooping savage.

The man who carried her was now forced to turn and fight off the enemy thatpressed forward past Number Twelve. The mighty bull whip whirled and crackedacross the heads and faces of the Dyaks. It was a formidable weapon when backedby the Herculean muscles that rolled and shifted beneath Bulan’ssun-tanned skin, and many were the brown warriors that went down beneath itscruel lash.

Virginia could see that the creature who bore her was not deformed of body, butshe shrank from the thought of what a sight of his face might reveal. How muchlonger the two could fight off the horde at their heels the girl could notguess; and as a matter of fact she was indifferent to the outcome of thestrange, running battle that was being waged with herself as the victor’sspoil.

The country now was becoming rougher and more open. The flight seemed to beleading into a range of low hills, where the jungle grew less dense, and theway rocky and rugged. They had entered a narrow canyon when Number Twelve wentdown beneath a half dozen parangs. Again the girl saw a bloody head swung onhigh and heard the fierce, wild chorus of exulting victory. She wondered howlong it would be ere the creature beneath her would add his share to the grimtrophies of the hunt.

In the interval that the head hunters had paused to sever Number Twelve’shead, Bulan had gained fifty yards upon them, and then, of a sudden, he came toa sheer wall rising straight across the narrow trail he had been following.Ahead there was no way—a cat could scarce have scaled that formidablebarrier—but to the right he discerned what appeared to be a steep andwinding pathway up the canyon’s side, and with a bound he clambered alongit to where it surmounted the rocky wall.

There he turned, winded, to await the oncoming foe. Here was a spot where asingle man might defy an army, and Bulan had been quick to see the naturaladvantages of it. He placed the girl upon her feet behind a protruding shoulderof the canyon’s wall which rose to a considerable distance still abovethem. Then he turned to face the mob that was surging up the narrow pathwaytoward him.

At his feet lay an accumulation of broken rock from the hillside above, and asa spear sped, singing, close above his shoulder, the occurrence suggested a usefor the rough and jagged missiles which lay about him in such profusion. Manyof the pieces were large, weighing twenty and thirty pounds, and some even asmuch as fifty. Picking up one of the larger Bulan raised it high above hishead, and then hurled it down amongst the upclimbing warriors. In an instantpandemonium reigned, for the heavy boulder had mowed down a score of thepursuers, breaking arms and legs in its meteoric descent.

Missile after missile Bulan rained down upon the struggling, howling Dyaks,until, seized by panic, they turned and fled incontinently down into the depthsof the canyon and back along the narrow trail they had come, and thensuperstitious fear completed the rout that the flying rocks had started, forone whispered to another that this was the terrible Bulan and that he had butlured them on into the hills that he might call forth all his demons anddestroy them.

For a moment Bulan stood watching the retreating savages, a smile upon hislips, and then as the sudden equatorial dawn burst forth he turned to face thegirl.

As Virginia Maxon saw the fine features of the giant where she had expected tofind the grotesque and hideous lineaments of a monster, she gave a quick littlecry of pleasure and relief.

“Thank God!” she cried fervently. “Thank God that you are aman—I thought that I was in the clutches of the hideous and soullessmonster, Number Thirteen.”

The smile upon the young man’s face died. An expression of pain, andhopelessness, and sorrow swept across his features. The girl saw the change,and wondered, but how could she guess the grievous wound her words hadinflicted?

15
TOO LATE

For a moment the two stood in silence; Bulan tortured by thoughts of the bitterhumiliation that he must suffer when the girl should learn his identity;Virginia wondering at the sad lines that had come into the young man’sface, and at his silence.

It was the girl who first spoke. “Who are you,” she asked,“to whom I owe my safety?”

The man hesitated. To speak aught than the truth had never occurred to himduring his brief existence. He scarcely knew how to lie. To him a questiondemanded but one manner of reply—the facts. But never before had he hadto face a question where so much depended upon his answer. He tried to form thebitter, galling words; but a vision of that lovely face suddenly transformedwith horror and disgust throttled the name in his throat.

“I am Bulan,” he said, at last, quietly.

“Bulan,” repeated the girl. “Bulan. Why that is a nativename. You are either an Englishman or an American. What is your truename?”

“My name is Bulan,” he insisted doggedly.

Virginia Maxon thought that he must have some good reason of his own forwishing to conceal his identity. At first she wondered if he could be afugitive from justice—the perpetrator of some horrid crime, who dared notdivulge his true name even in the remote fastness of a Bornean wilderness; buta glance at his frank and noble countenance drove every vestige of thetraitorous thought from her mind. Her woman’s intuition was sufficientguarantee of the nobility of his character.

“Then let me thank you, Mr. Bulan,” she said, “for theservice that you have rendered a strange and helpless woman.”

He smiled.

“Just Bulan,” he said. “There is no need for Miss or Misterin the savage jungle, Virginia.”

The girl flushed at the sudden and unexpected use of her given name, and wassurprised that she was not offended.

“How do you know my name?” she asked.

Bulan saw that he would get into deep water if he attempted to explain toomuch, and, as is ever the way, discovered that one deception had led him intoanother; so he determined to forestall future embarrassing queries byconcocting a story immediately to explain his presence and his knowledge.

“I lived upon the island near your father’s camp,” he said.“I knew you all—by sight.”

“How long have you lived there?” asked the girl. “We thoughtthe island uninhabited.”

“All my life,” replied Bulan truthfully.

“It is strange,” she mused. “I cannot understand it. But themonsters—how is it that they followed you and obeyed yourcommands?”

Bulan touched the bull whip that hung at his side.

“Von Horn taught them to obey this,” he said.

“He used that upon them?” cried the girl in horror.

“It was the only way,” said Bulan. “They were almostbrainless—they could understand nothing else, for they could notreason.”

Virginia shuddered.

“Where are they now—the balance of them?” she asked.

“They are dead, poor things,” he replied, sadly. “Poor,hideous, unloved, unloving monsters—they gave up their lives for thedaughter of the man who made them the awful, repulsive creatures that theywere.”

“What do you mean?” cried the girl.

“I mean that all have been killed searching for you, and battling withyour enemies. They were soulless creatures, but they loved the mean lives theygave up so bravely for you whose father was the author of theirmisery—you owe a great deal to them, Virginia.”

“Poor things,” murmured the girl, “but yet they are betteroff, for without brains or souls there could be no happiness in life for them.My father did them a hideous wrong, but it was an unintentional wrong. His mindwas crazed with dwelling upon the wonderful discovery he had made, and if hewronged them he contemplated a still more terrible wrong to be inflicted uponme, his daughter.”

“I do not understand,” said Bulan.

“It was his intention to give me in marriage to one of his soullessmonsters—to the one he called Number Thirteen. Oh, it is terrible even tothink of the hideousness of it; but now they are all dead he cannot do it eventhough his poor mind, which seems well again, should suffer a relapse.”

“Why do you loathe them so?” asked Bulan. “Is it because theyare hideous, or because they are soulless?”

“Either fact were enough to make them repulsive,” replied the girl,“but it is the fact that they were without souls that made them totallyimpossible—one easily overlooks physical deformity, but the moraldepravity that must be inherent in a creature without a soul must forever cuthim off from intercourse with human beings.”

“And you think that regardless of their physical appearance the fact thatthey were without souls would have been apparent?” asked Bulan.

“I am sure of it,” cried Virginia. “I would know the moment Iset my eyes upon a creature without a soul.”

With all the sorrow that was his, Bulan could scarce repress a smile, for itwas quite evident either that it was impossible to perceive a soul, or elsethat he possessed one.

“Just how do you distinguish the possessor of a soul?” he asked.

The girl cast a quick glance up at him.

“You are making fun of me,” she said.

“Not at all,” he replied. “I am just curious as to how soulsmake themselves apparent. I have seen men kill one another as beasts kill. Ihave seen one who was cruel to those within his power, yet they were all menwith souls. I have seen eleven soulless monsters die to save the daughter of aman whom they believed had wronged them terribly—a man with a soul. Howthen am I to know what attributes denote the possession of the immortal spark?How am I to know whether or not I possess a soul?”

Virginia smiled.

“You are courageous and honorable and chivalrous—those are enoughto warrant the belief that you have a soul, were it not apparent from yourcountenance that you are of the higher type of mankind,” she said.

“I hope that you will never change your opinion of me, Virginia,”said the man; but he knew that there lay before her a severe shock, and beforehim a great sorrow when they should come to where her father was and the girlshould learn the truth concerning him.

That he did not himself tell her may be forgiven him, for he had only a life ofmisery to look forward to after she should know that he, too, was equally asoulless monster with the twelve that had preceded him to a merciful death. Hewould have envied them but for the anticipation of the time that he might bealone with her before she learned the truth.

As he pondered the future there came to him the thought that should they neverfind Professor Maxon or von Horn the girl need never know but that he was ahuman being. He need not lose her then, but always be near her. The idea grewand with it the mighty temptation to lead Virginia Maxon far into the jungle,and keep her forever from the sight of men. And why not? Had he not saved herwhere others had failed? Was she not, by all that was just and fair, his?

Did he owe any loyalty to either her father or von Horn? Already he had savedProfessor Maxon’s life, so the obligation, if there was any, lay allagainst the older man; and three times he had saved Virginia. He would be verykind and good to her. She should be much happier and a thousand times saferthan with those others who were so poorly equipped to protect her.

As he stood silently gazing out across the jungle beneath them toward the newsun the girl watched him in a spell of admiration of his strong and noble face,and his perfect physique. What would have been her emotions had she guessedwhat thoughts were his! It was she who broke the silence.

“Can you find the way to the long-house where my father is?” sheasked.

Bulan, startled at the question, looked up from his reverie. The thing must befaced, then, sooner than he thought. How was he to tell her of his intention?It occurred to him to sound her first—possibly she would make noobjection to the plan.

“You are anxious to return?” he asked.

“Why, yes, of course, I am,” she replied. “My father will behalf mad with apprehension, until he knows that I am safe. What a strangequestion, indeed.” Still, however, she did not doubt the motives of hercompanion.

“Suppose we should be unable to find our way to the long-house?” hecontinued.

“Oh, don’t say such a thing,” cried the girl. “It wouldbe terrible. I should die of misery and fright and loneliness in this awfuljungle. Surely you can find your way to the river—it was but a shortmarch through the jungle from where we landed to the spot at which you took meaway from that fearful Malay.”

The girl’s words cast a cloud over Bulan’s hopes. The future lookedless roseate with the knowledge that she would be unhappy in the life that hehad been mapping for them. He was silent—thinking. In his breast a riotof conflicting emotions were waging the first great battle which was to pointthe trend of the man’s character—would the selfish and the baseprevail, or would the noble?

With the thought of losing her his desire for her companionship became almost amania. To return her to her father and von Horn would be to lose her—ofthat there could be no doubt, for they would not leave her long in ignorance ofhis origin. Then, in addition to being deprived of her forever, he must sufferthe galling mortification of her scorn.

It was a great deal to ask of a fledgling morality that was yet scarcelycognizant of its untried wings; but even as the man wavered between right andwrong there crept into his mind the one great and burning question of hislife—had he a soul? And he knew that upon his decision of the fate ofVirginia Maxon rested to some extent the true answer to that question, for,unconsciously, he had worked out his own crude soul hypothesis which impartedto this invisible entity the power to direct his actions only for good.Therefore he reasoned that wickedness presupposed a small and worthless soul,or the entire lack of one.

That she would hate a soulless creature he accepted as a foregone conclusion.He desired her respect, and that fact helped him to his final decision, but thething that decided him was born of the truly chivalrous nature hepossessed—he wanted Virginia Maxon to be happy; it mattered not at whatcost to him.

The girl had been watching him closely as he stood silently thinking after herlast words. She did not know the struggle that the calm face hid; yet she feltthat the dragging moments were big with the question of her fate.

“Well?” she said at length.

“We must eat first,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, and notat all as though he was about to renounce his life’s happiness,“and then we shall set out in search of your father. I shall take you tohim, Virginia, if man can find him.”

“I knew that you could,” she said, simply, “but how my fatherand I ever can repay you I do not know—do you?”

“Yes,” said Bulan, and there was a sudden rush of fire to his eyesthat kept Virginia Maxon from urging a detailed explanation of just how shemight repay him.

In truth she did not know whether to be angry, or frightened, or glad of thetruth that she read there; or mortified that it had awakened in her arealization that possibly an analysis of her own interest in this youngstranger might reveal more than she had imagined.

The constraint that suddenly fell upon them was relieved when Bulan motionedher to follow him back down the trail into the gorge in search of food. Therethey sat together upon a fallen tree beside a tiny rivulet, eating the fruitthat the man gathered. Often their eyes met as they talked, but always thegirl’s fell before the open worship of the man’s.

Many were the men who had looked in admiration at Virginia Maxon in the past,but never, she felt, with eyes so clean and brave and honest. There was noguile or evil in them, and because of it she wondered all the more that shecould not face them.

“What a wonderful soul those eyes portray,” she thought, “andhow perfectly they assure the safety of my life and honor while their owner isnear me.”

And the man thought: “Would that I owned a soul that I might aspire tolive always near her—always to protect her.”

When they had eaten the two set out once more in search of the river, and theconfidence that is born of ignorance was theirs, so that beyond each succeedingtangled barrier of vines and creepers they looked to see the swirling streamthat would lead them to the girl’s father.

On and on they trudged, the man often carrying the girl across the rougherobstacles and through the little streams that crossed their path, until at lastcame noon, and yet no sign of the river they sought. The combined jungle craftof the two had been insufficient either to trace the way that they had come, orpoint the general direction of the river.

As the afternoon drew to a close Virginia Maxon commenced to loseheart—she was confident that they were lost. Bulan made no pretence ofknowing the way, the most that he would say being that eventually they mustcome to the river. As a matter-of-fact had it not been for the girl’sevident concern he would have been glad to know that they were irretrievablylost; but for her sake his efforts to find the river were conscientious.

When at last night closed down upon them the girl was, at heart, terrorstricken, but she hid her true state from the man, because she knew that theirplight was no fault of his. The strange and uncanny noises of the jungle nightfilled her with the most dreadful forebodings, and when a cold, drizzling rainset in upon them her cup of misery was full.

Bulan rigged a rude shelter for her, making her lie down beneath it, and thenhe removed his Dyak war-coat and threw it over her, but it was hours before herexhausted body overpowered her nervous fright and won a fitful and restlessslumber. Several times Virginia became obsessed with the idea that Bulan hadleft her alone there in the jungle, but when she called his name he answeredfrom close beside her shelter.

She thought that he had reared another for himself nearby, but even the thoughtthat he might sleep filled her with dread, yet she would not call to him again,since she knew that he needed his rest even more than she. And all the nightBulan stood close beside the woman he had learned to love—stood almostnaked in the chill night air and the cold rain, lest some savage man or beastcreep out of the darkness after her while he slept.

The next day with its night, and the next, and the next were but repetitions ofthe first. It had become an agony of suffering for the man to fight off sleeplonger. The girl read part of the truth in his heavy eyes and worn face, andtried to force him to take needed rest, but she did not guess that he had notslept for four days and nights.

At last abused Nature succumbed to the terrific strain that had been put uponher, and the giant constitution of the man went down before the cold and thewet, weakened and impoverished by loss of sleep and insufficient food; forthrough the last two days he had been able to find but little, and that littlehe had given to the girl, telling her that he had eaten his fill while hegathered hers.

It was on the fifth morning, when Virginia awoke, that she found Bulan rollingand tossing upon the wet ground before her shelter, delirious with fever. Atthe sight of the mighty figure reduced to pitiable inefficiency and weakness,despite the knowledge that her protector could no longer protect, the fear ofthe jungle faded from the heart of the young girl—she was no more a weakand trembling daughter of an effete civilization. Instead she was a lioness,watching over and protecting her sick mate. The analogy did not occur to her,but something else did as she saw the flushed face and fever wracked body ofthe man whose appeal to her she would have thought purely physical had shegiven the subject any analytic consideration; and as a realization of his utterhelplessness came to her she bent over him and kissed first his forehead andthen his lips.

“What a noble and unselfish love yours has been,” she murmured.“You have even tried to hide it that my position might be the easier tobear, and now that it may be too late I learn that I love you—that I havealways loved you. Oh, Bulan, my Bulan, what a cruel fate that permitted us tofind one another only to die together!”

16
SING SPEAKS

For a week Professor Maxon with von Horn and Sing sought for Virginia. Theycould get no help from the natives of the long-house, who feared the vengeanceof Muda Saffir should he learn that they had aided the white men upon histrail.

And always as the three hunted through the jungle and up and down the riverthere lurked ever near a handful of the men of the tribe of the two whom vonHorn had murdered, waiting for the chance that would give them revenge and theheads of the three they followed. They feared the guns of the white men toomuch to venture an open attack, and at night the quarry never abated theirwatchfulness, so that days dragged on, and still the three continued theirhopeless quest unconscious of the relentless foe that dogged their footsteps.

Von Horn was always searching for an opportunity to enlist the aid of thefriendly natives in an effort to regain the chest, but so far he had found nonewho would agree to accompany him even in consideration of a large share of thebooty. It was the treasure alone which kept him to the search for VirginiaMaxon, and he made it a point to direct the hunt always in the vicinity of thespot where it was buried, for a great fear consumed him that Ninaka mightreturn and claim it before he had a chance to make away with it.

Three times during the week they returned and slept at the long-house, hopingeach time to learn that the natives had received some news of her they sought,through the wonderful channels of communication that seemed always open acrossthe trackless jungle and up and down the savage, lonely rivers.

For two days Bulan lay raving in the delirium of fever, while the delicategirl, unused to hardship and exposure, watched over him and nursed him with theloving tenderness and care of a young mother with her first born.

For the most part the young giant’s ravings were inarticulate, but nowand then Virginia heard her name linked with words of reverence and worship.The man fought again the recent battles he had passed through, and againsuffered the long night watches beside the sleeping girl who filled his heart.Then it was that she learned the truth of his self-sacrificing devotion. Thething that puzzled her most was the repetition of a number and a name which ranthrough all his delirium—“Nine ninety nine Priscilla.”

She could make neither head nor tail of it, nor was there another word to givea clue to its meaning, so at last from constant repetition it became acommonplace and she gave it no further thought.

The girl had given up hope that Bulan ever could recover, so weak and emaciatedhad he become, and when the fever finally left him quite suddenly she waspositive that it was the beginning of the end. It was on the morning of theseventh day since they had commenced their wandering in search of thelong-house that, as she sat watching him, she saw his eyes resting upon herface with a look of recognition.

Gently she took his hand, and at the act he smiled at her very weakly.

“You are better, Bulan,” she said. “You have been very sick,but now you shall soon be well again.”

She did not believe her own words, yet the mere saying of them gave her renewedhope.

“Yes,” replied the man. “I shall soon be well again. How longhave I been like this?”

“For two days,” she replied.

“And you have watched over me alone in the jungle for two days?” heasked incredulously.

“Had it been for life,” she said in a low voice, “it wouldscarce have repaid the debt I owe you.”

For a long time he lay looking up into her eyes—longingly, wistfully.

“I wish that it had been for life,” he said.

At first she did not quite realize what he meant, but presently the tired andhopeless expression of his eyes brought to her a sudden knowledge of hismeaning.

“Oh, Bulan,” she cried, “you must not say that. Why shouldyou wish to die?”

“Because I love you, Virginia,” he replied. “And because,when you know what I am, you will hate and loathe me.”

On the girl’s lips was an avowal of her own love, but as she bent closerto whisper the words in his ear there came the sound of men crashing throughthe jungle, and as she turned to face the peril that she thought approaching,von Horn sprang into view, while directly behind him came her father and SingLee.

Bulan saw them at the same instant, and as Virginia ran forward to greet herfather he staggered weakly to his feet. Von Horn was the first to see the younggiant, and with an oath sprang toward him, drawing his revolver as he came.

“You beast,” he cried. “We have caught you at last.”

At the words Virginia turned back toward Bulan with a little scream of warningand of horror. Professor Maxon was behind her.

“Shoot the monster, von Horn,” he ordered. “Do not let himescape.”

Bulan drew himself to his full height, and though he wavered from weakness, yethe towered mighty and magnificent above the evil faced man who menaced him.

“Shoot!” he said calmly. “Death cannot come too soonnow.”

At the same instant von Horn pulled the trigger. The giant’s head fellback, he staggered, whirled about, and crumpled to the earth just as VirginiaMaxon’s arms closed about him.

Von Horn rushed close and pushing the girl aside pressed the muzzle of his gunto Bulan’s temple, but an avalanche of wrinkled, yellow skin was upon himbefore he could pull the trigger a second time, and Sing had hurled him back adozen feet and snatched his weapon.

Moaning and sobbing Virginia threw herself upon the body of the man she loved,while Professor Maxon hurried to her side to drag her away from the soullessthing for whom he had once intended her.

Like a tigress the girl turned upon the two white men.

“You are murderers,” she cried. “Cowardly murderers. Weak andexhausted by fever he could not combat you, and so you have robbed the world ofone of the noblest men that God ever created.”

“Hush!” cried Professor Maxon. “Hush, child, you do not knowwhat you say. The thing was a monster—a soulless monster.”

At the words the girl looked up quickly at her father, a faint realization ofhis meaning striking her like a blow in the face.

“What do you mean?” she whispered. “Who was he?”

It was von Horn who answered.

“No god created that,” he said, with a contemptuous glance at thestill body of the man at their feet. “He was one of the creatures of yourfather’s mad experiments—the soulless thing for whose arms hisinsane obsession doomed you. The thing at your feet, Virginia, was NumberThirteen.”

With a piteous little moan the girl turned back toward the body of the younggiant. A faltering step she took toward it, and then to the horror of herfather she sank upon her knees beside it and lifting the man’s head inher arms covered the face with kisses.

“Virginia!” cried the professor. “Are you mad, child?”

“I am not mad,” she moaned, “not yet. I love him. Man ormonster, it would have been all the same to me, for I loved him.”

Her father turned away, burying his face in his hands.

“God!” he muttered. “What an awful punishment you havevisited upon me for the sin of the thing I did.”

The silence which followed was broken by Sing who had kneeled opposite Virginiaupon the other side of Bulan, where he was feeling the giant’s wrists andpressing his ear close above his heart.

“Do’n cly, Linee,” said the kindly old Chinaman. “Himno dlead.” Then, as he poured a pinch of brownish powder into theman’s mouth from a tiny sack he had brought forth from the depths of oneof his sleeves: “Him no mlonster either, Linee. Him white man, alsameMlaxon. Sing know.”

The girl looked up at him in gratitude.

“He is not dead, Sing? He will live?” she cried. “Idon’t care about anything else, Sing, if you will only make himlive.”

“Him live. Gettem lilee flesh wounds. Las all.”

“What do you mean by saying that he is not a monster?” demanded vonHorn.

“You waitee, you dam flool,” cried Sing. “I tellee lot more Iknow. You waitee I flixee him, and then, by God, I flixee you.”

Von Horn took a menacing step toward the Chinaman, his face black with wrath,but Professor Maxon interposed.

“This has gone quite far enough, Doctor von Horn,” he said.“It may be that we acted hastily. I do not know, of course, what Singmeans, but I intend to find out. He has been very faithful to us, and deservesevery consideration.”

Von Horn stepped back, still scowling. Sing poured a little water betweenBulan’s lips, and then asked Professor Maxon for his brandy flask. Withthe first few drops of the fiery liquid the giant’s eyelids moved, and amoment later he raised them and looked about him.

The first face he saw was Virginia’s. It was full of love and compassion.

“They have not told you yet?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “They have told me, but it makes nodifference. You have given me the right to say it, Bulan, and I do say it nowagain, before them all—I love you, and that is all there is that makesany difference.”

A look of happiness lighted his face momentarily, only to fade as quickly as ithad come.

“No, Virginia,” he said, sadly, “it would not be right. Itwould be wicked. I am not a human being. I am only a soulless monster. Youcannot mate with such as I. You must go away with your father. Soon you willforget me.”

“Never, Bulan!” cried the girl, determinedly.

The man was about to attempt to dissuade her, when Sing interrupted.

“You keepee still, Bulan,” he said. “You wait till Singtellee. You no mlonster. Mlaxon he no makee you. Sing he find you in low bloatjus’ outsidee cove. You dummy. No know nothing. No know namee. No knowwhere comee from. No talkee.

“Sing he jes’ hearee Mlaxon tellee Hornee ’bout NlumberThlirteen. How he makee him for Linee. Makee Linee mally him. Sing he know whatkindee fleaks Mlaxon makee. Linee always good to old Sing. Sing he been peekingthlu clack in wallee. See blig vlat where Thlirteen growing.

“Sing he takee you to Sing’s shackee that night. Hide you tillevlybody sleep. Then he sneak you in workee shop. Kickee over vlat. Leaves you.Nex’ mlorning Mlaxon makee blig hulabaloo. Dance up and downee. Whoop!Thlirteen clome too soonee, but allight; him finee, perfec’ man. Whoop!

“Anyway, you heap better for Linee than one Mlaxon’s fleaks,”he concluded, turning toward Bulan.

“You are lying, you yellow devil,” cried von Horn.

The Chinaman turned his shrewd, slant eyes malevolently upon the doctor.

“Sing lies?” he hissed. “Mabbeso Sing lies when he ask whatfor you glet Bludleen steal tleasure. But Lajah Saffir he come and spoil it allwhile you tly glet Linee to the ship—Sing knows.

“Then you tellee Mlaxon Thlirteen steal Linee. You lie then and you knewyou lie. You lie again when Thlirteen savee Linee flom Oulang Outang—yousay you savee Linee.

“Then you make bad talkee with Lajah Saffir at long-house. Sing hear youall timee. You tly getee tleasure away from Dlyaks for your self.Then—”

“Stop!” roared von Horn. “Stop! You lying yellow sneak,before I put a bullet in you.”

“Both of you may stop now,” said Professor Maxon authoritatively.“There have been charges made here that cannot go unnoticed. Can youprove these things Sing?” he asked turning to the Chinaman.

“I plove much by Bludleen’s lascar. Bludleen tell him all’bout Hornee. I plove some more by Dyak chief at long-house. He knowslots. Lajah Saffir tell him. It all tlue, Mlaxon.”

“And it is true about this man—the thing that you have told us istrue? He is not one of those created in the laboratory?”

“No, Mlaxon. You no makee fine young man like Blulan—you know lat,Mlaxon. You makee One, Two, Thlee—all up to Twelve. All fleaks. You oughtto know, Mlaxon, lat you no can makee a Blulan.”

During these revelations Bulan had sat with his eyes fixed upon the Chinaman.There was a puzzled expression upon his wan, blood-streaked face. It was asthough he were trying to wrest from the inner temple of his consciousness avague and tantalizing memory that eluded him each time that he felt he had itwithin his grasp—the key to the strange riddle that hid his origin.

The girl kneeled close beside him, one small hand in his. Hope and happinesshad supplanted the sorrow in her face. She tore the hem from her skirt, tobandage the bloody furrow that creased the man’s temple. Professor Maxonstood silently by, watching the loving tenderness that marked each deft, littlemovement of her strong, brown hands.

The revelations of the past few minutes had shocked the old man into stupefiedsilence. It was difficult, almost impossible, for him to believe that Sing hadspoken the truth and that this man was not one of the creatures of his owncreation; yet from the bottom of his heart he prayed that it might prove thetruth, for he saw that his daughter loved the man with a love that would bestayed by no obstacle or bound by no man-made law, or social custom.

The Chinaman’s indictment of von Horn had come as an added blow toProfessor Maxon, but it had brought its own supporting evidence in the flood ofrecollections it had induced in the professor’s mind. Now he recalled ahundred chance incidents and conversations with his assistant that pointedsquarely toward the man’s disloyalty and villainy. He wondered that hehad been so blind as not to have suspected his lieutenant long before.

Virginia had at last succeeded in adjusting her rude bandage and stopping theflow of blood. Bulan had risen weakly to his feet. The girl supported him uponone side, and Sing upon the other. Professor Maxon approached the little group.

“I do not know what to make of all that Sing has told us,” he said.“If you are not Number Thirteen who are you? Where did you come from? Itseems very strange indeed—impossible, in fact. However, if you willexplain who you are, I shall be gladto—ah—consider—ah—permitting you to pay court to mydaughter.”

“I do not know who I am,” replied Bulan. “I had alwaysthought that I was only Number Thirteen, until Sing just spoke. Now I have afaint recollection of drifting for days upon the sea in an openboat—beyond that all is blank. I shall not force my attentions uponVirginia until I can prove my identity, and that my past is one which I can laybefore her without shame—until then I shall not see her.”

“You shall do nothing of the kind,” cried the girl. “You loveme, and I you. My father intended to force me to marry you while he stillthought that you were a soulless thing. Now that it is quite apparent that youare a human being, and a gentleman, he hesitates, but I do not. As I have toldyou before, it makes no difference to me what you are. You have told me thatyou love me. You have demonstrated a love that is high, and noble, andself-sacrificing. More than that no girl needs to know. I am satisfied to bethe wife of Bulan—if Bulan is satisfied to have the daughter of the manwho has so cruelly wronged him.”

An arm went around the girl’s shoulders and drew her close to the man shehad glorified with her loyalty and her love. The other hand was stretched outtoward Professor Maxon.

“Professor,” said Bulan, “in the face of what Sing has toldus, in the face of a disinterested comparison between myself and the miserablecreatures of your experiments, is it not folly to suppose that I am one ofthem? Some day I shall recall my past, until that time shall prove myworthiness I shall not ask for Virginia’s hand, and in this decision shemust concur, for the truth might reveal some insurmountable obstacle to ourmarriage. In the meantime let us be friends, professor, for we are bothactuated by the same desire—the welfare and happiness of yourdaughter.”

The old man stepped forward and took Bulan’s hand. The expression ofdoubt and worry had left his face.

“I cannot believe,” he said, “that you are other than agentleman, and if, in my desire to protect Virginia, I have said aught to woundyou I ask your forgiveness.”

Bulan responded only with a tighter pressure of the hand.

“And now,” said the professor, “let us return to thelong-house. I wish to have a few words in private with you, von Horn,”and he turned to face his assistant, but the man had disappeared.

“Where is Doctor von Horn?” exclaimed the scientist, addressingSing.

“Hornee, him vamoose long time ’go,” replied the Chinaman.“He hear all he likee.”

Slowly the little party wound along the jungle trail, and in less than a mile,to Virginia’s infinite surprise, came out upon the river and thelong-house that she and Bulan had searched for in vain.

“And to think,” she cried, “that all these awful days we havebeen almost within sound of your voices. What strange freak of fate sent you tous today?”

“We had about given up hope,” replied her father, “when Singsuggested to me that we cut across the highlands that separate this valley fromthe one adjoining it upon the northeast, where we should strike other tribesand from them glean some clue to your whereabouts in case your abductors hadattempted to carry you back to the sea by another route. This seemed likely inview of the fact that we were assured by enemies of Muda Saffir that you werenot in his possession, and that the river we were bound for would lead yourcaptors most quickly out of the domains of that rascally Malay. You may imagineour surprise, Virginia, when after proceeding for but a mile we discoveredyou.”

No sooner had the party entered the verandah of the long-house than ProfessorMaxon made inquiries for von Horn, only to learn that he had departed up streamin a prahu with several warriors whom he had engaged to accompany him on a“hunting expedition,” having explained that the white girl had beenfound and was being brought to the long-house.

The chief further explained that he had done his best to dissuade the white manfrom so rash an act, as he was going directly into the country of the tribe ofthe two men he had killed, and there was little chance that he ever would comeout alive.

While they were still discussing von Horn’s act, and wondering at hisintentions, a native on the verandah cried out in astonishment, pointing downthe river. As they looked in the direction he indicated all saw a graceful,white cutter gliding around a nearby turn. At the oars were white clad Americansailors, and in the stern two officers in the uniform of the United Statesnavy.

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As the cutter touched the bank the entire party from the long-house, whites andnatives, were gathered on the shore to meet it. At first the officers held offas though fearing a hostile demonstration, but when they saw the whites amongthe throng, a command was given to pull in, and a moment later one of theofficers stepped ashore.

“I am Lieutenant May,” he said, “of the U.S.S. New Mexico,flagship of the Pacific Fleet. Have I the honor to address ProfessorMaxon?”

The scientist nodded. “I am delighted,” he said.

“We have been to your island, Professor,” continued the officer,“and judging from the evidences of hasty departure, and the corpses ofseveral natives there, I feared that some harm had befallen you. We thereforecruised along the Bornean coast making inquiries of the natives until at lastwe found one who had heard a rumor of a party of whites being far in theinterior searching for a white girl who had been stolen from them by pirates.

“The farther up this river we have come the greater our assurance that wewere on the right trail, for scarcely a native we interrogated but had seen orheard of some of your party. Mixed with the truth they told us were strangetales of terrible monsters led by a gigantic white man.”

“The imaginings of childish minds,” said the professor.“However, why, my dear lieutenant, did you honor me by visiting myisland?”

The officer hesitated a moment before answering, his eyes running about overthe assembly as though in search of someone.

“Well, Professor Maxon, to be quite frank,” he said at length,“we learned at Singapore the personnel of your party, which included aformer naval officer whom we have been seeking for many years. We came to yourisland to arrest this man—I refer to Doctor Carl von Horn.”

When the lieutenant learned of the recent disappearance of the man he sought,he expressed his determination to push on at once in pursuit; and as ProfessorMaxon feared again to remain unprotected in the heart of the Bornean wildernesshis entire party was taken aboard the cutter.

A few miles up the river they came upon one of the Dyaks who had accompaniedvon Horn, a few hours earlier. The warrior sat smoking beside a beached prahu.When interrogated he explained that von Horn and the balance of his crew hadgone inland, leaving him to guard the boat. He said that he thought he couldguide them to the spot where the white man might be found.

Professor Maxon and Sing accompanied one of the officers and a dozen sailors inthe wake of the Dyak guide. Virginia and Bulan remained in the cutter, as thelatter was still too weak to attempt the hard march through the jungle. For anhour the party traversed the trail in the wake of von Horn and his savagecompanions. They had come almost to the spot when their ears were assailed bythe weird and blood curdling yells of native warriors, and a moment later vonHorn’s escort dashed into view in full retreat.

At sight of the white men they halted in relief, pointing back in the directionthey had come, and jabbering excitedly in their native tongue. Warily the partyadvanced again behind these new guides; but when they reached the spot theysought, the cause of the Dyaks’ panic had fled, warned, doubtless, bytheir trained ears of the approach of an enemy.

The sight that met the eyes of the searchers told all of the story that theyneeded to know. A hole had been excavated in the ground, partially uncovering aheavy chest, and across this chest lay the headless body of Doctor Carl vonHorn.

Lieutenant May turned toward Professor Maxon with a questioning look.

“It is he,” said the scientist.

“But the chest?” inquired the officer.

“Mlaxon’s tleasure,” spoke up Sing Lee. “Hornee him tlysteal it for long time.”

“Treasure!” ejaculated the professor. “Bududreen gave up hislife for this. Rajah Muda Saffir fought and intrigued and murdered forpossession of it! Poor, misguided von Horn has died for it, and left his headto wither beneath the rafters of a Dyak long-house! It is incredible.”

“But, Professor Maxon,” said Lieutenant May, “men will sufferall these things and more for gold.”

“Gold!” cried the professor. “Why, man, that is a box ofbooks on biology and eugenics.”

“My God!” exclaimed May, “and von Horn was accredited to beone of the shrewdest swindlers and adventurers in America! But come, we may aswell return to the cutter—my men will carry the chest.”

“No!” exclaimed Professor Maxon with a vehemence the other couldnot understand. “Let them bury it again where it lies. It and what itcontains have been the cause of sufficient misery and suffering and crime. Letit lie where it is in the heart of savage Borneo, and pray to God that no manever finds it, and that I shall forget forever that which is in it.”

On the morning of the third day following the death of von Horn the New Mexicosteamed away from the coast of Borneo. Upon her deck, looking back toward theverdure clad hills, stood Virginia and Bulan.

“Thank heaven,” exclaimed the girl fervently, “that we areleaving it behind us forever.”

“Amen,” replied Bulan, “but yet, had it not been for Borneo Imight never have found you.”

“We should have met elsewhere then, Bulan,” said the girl in a lowvoice, “for we were made for one another. No power on earth could havekept us apart. In your true guise you would have found me—I am sure ofit.”

“It is maddening, Virginia,” said the man, “to be constantlystraining every resource of my memory in futile endeavor to catch and hold onefleeting clue to my past. Why, dear, do you realize that I may have been afugitive from justice, as was von Horn, a vile criminal perhaps. It is awful,Virginia, to contemplate the horrible possibilities of my lost past.”

“No, Bulan, you could never have been a criminal,” replied theloyal girl, “but there is one possibility that has been haunting meconstantly. It frightens me just to think of it—it is,” and thegirl lowered her voice as though she feared to say the thing she dreaded most,“it is that you may have loved another—that—that you may evenbe married.”

Bulan was about to laugh away any such fears when the gravity and importance ofthe possibility impressed him quite as fully as it had Virginia. He saw that itwas not at all unlikely that he was already a married man; and he saw too whatthe girl now acknowledged, that they might never wed until the mystery of hispast had been cleared away.

“There is something that gives weight to my fear,” continuedVirginia, “something that I had almost forgotten in the rush andexcitement of events during the past few days. During your delirium yourravings were, for the most part, quite incoherent, but there was one name thatyou repeated many times—a woman’s name, preceded by a number. Itwas ‘Nine ninety nine Priscilla.’ Maybe she—”

But Virginia got no further. With a low exclamation of delight Bulan caught herin his arms.

“It is all right, dear,” he cried. “It is all right.Everything has come back to me now. You have given me the clue. Nine ninetynine Priscilla is my father’s address—Nine ninety nine PriscillaAvenue.

“I am Townsend J. Harper, Jr. You have heard of my father. Every one hassince he commenced consolidating interurban traction companies. And I’mnot married, Virginia, and never have been; but I shall be if this miserableold mud scow ever reaches Singapore.”

“Oh, Bulan,” cried the girl, “how in the world did you everhappen to come to that terrible island of ours?”

“I came for you, dear,” he replied. “It is a long story.After dinner I will tell you all of it that I can recall. For the present itmust suffice you to know that I followed you from the railway station at Ithacahalf around the world for a love that had been born from a single glance atyour sweet face as you passed me to enter your Pullman.

“On my father’s yacht I reached your island after trailing you toSingapore. It was a long and tedious hunt and we followed many blind leads, butat last we came off an island upon which natives had told us such a party asyours was living. Five of us put off in a boat to explore—that is thelast that I can recall. Sing says he found me alone in a row boat, a‘dummy.’”

Virginia sighed, and crept closer to him.

“You may be the son of the great Townsend J. Harper, you have been thesoulless Number Thirteen; but to me you will always be Bulan, for it was Bulanwhom I learned to love.”

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