At the sight of Jane, cries
of relief and delight broke from
every lip, and as Tarzan's car
stopped beside the other, Professor
Porter caught his daughter in
his arms.
For a moment no one noticed
Tarzan, sitting silently in his
seat.
Clayton was the first to remember,
and, turning, held out his hand.
"How can we ever thank you?" he
exclaimed. "You have saved us
all. You called me by name at
the cottage, but I do not seem
to recall yours, though there
is something very familiar about
you. It is as though I had known
you well under very different
conditions a long time ago."
Tarzan smiled as he took the
proffered hand.
"You are quite right, Monsieur
Clayton," he said, in French. "You
will pardon me if I do not speak
to you in English. I am just
learning it, and while I understand
it fairly well I speak it very
poorly."
"But who are you?" insisted
Clayton, speaking in French this
time himself.
"Tarzan of
the Apes."
Clayton started back in surprise.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "It
is true."
And Professor Porter and Mr.
Philander pressed forward to
add their thanks to Clayton's,
and to voice their surprise and
pleasure at seeing their jungle
friend so far from his savage
home.
The party now entered the modest
little hostelry, where Clayton
soon made arrangements for their
entertainment.
They were sitting in the little,
stuffy parlor when the distant
chugging of an approaching automobile
caught their attention.
Mr. Philander, who was sitting
near the window, looked out as
the car drew in sight, finally
stopping beside the other automobiles.
"Bless me!" said Mr. Philander,
a shade of annoyance in his tone. "It
is Mr. Canler. I had hoped, er--I
had thought or--er--how very
happy we should be that he was
not caught in the fire," he ended
lamely.
"Tut, tut! Mr. Philander," said
Professor Porter. "Tut, tut!
I have often admonished my pupils
to count ten before speaking.
Were I you, Mr. Philander, I
should count at least a thousand,
and then maintain a discreet
silence."
"Bless me, yes!" acquiesced
Mr. Philander. "But who is the
clerical appearing gentleman
with him?"
Jane blanched.
Clayton moved uneasily in his
chair.
Professor Porter removed his
spectacles nervously, and breathed
upon them, but replaced them
on his nose without wiping.
The ubiquitous Esmeralda grunted.
Only Tarzan did not comprehend.
Presently Robert Canler burst
into the room.
"Thank God!" he cried. "I
feared the worst, until I saw
your car,
Clayton. I was cut off on the
south road and had to go away
back to town, and then strike
east to this road. I thought
we'd never reach the cottage."
No one seemed to enthuse much.
Tarzan eyed Robert Canler as
Sabor eyes her prey.
Jane glanced at him and coughed
nervously.
"Mr. Canler," she said, "this
is Monsieur Tarzan, an old friend."
Canler turned and extended
his hand. Tarzan rose and bowed
as only D'Arnot could have taught
a gentleman to do it, but he
did not seem to see Canler's
hand.
Nor did Canler appear to notice
the oversight.
"This is the Reverend Mr. Tousley,
Jane," said Canler, turning to
the clerical party behind him. "Mr.
Tousley, Miss Porter."
Mr. Tousley bowed and beamed.
Canler introduced him to the
others.
"We can have the ceremony at
once, Jane," said Canler. "Then
you and I can catch the midnight
train in town."
Tarzan understood the plan
instantly. He glanced out of
half-closed eyes at Jane, but
he did not move.
The girl hesitated. The room
was tense with the silence of
taut nerves.
All eyes turned toward Jane,
awaiting her reply.
"Can't we wait a few days?" she
asked. "I am all unstrung. I
have been through so much today."
Canler felt the hostility that
emanated from each member of
the party. It made him angry.
"We have waited as long as
I intend to wait," he said roughly. "You
have promised to marry me. I
shall be played with no longer.
I have the license and here is
the preacher. Come Mr. Tousley;
come Jane. There are plenty of
witnesses --more than enough," he
added with a disagreeable inflection;
and taking Jane Porter by the
arm, he started to lead her toward
the waiting minister.
But scarcely had he taken a
single step ere a heavy hand
closed upon his arm with a grip
of steel.
Another hand shot to his throat
and in a moment he was being
shaken high above the floor,
as a cat might shake a mouse.
Jane turned in horrified surprise
toward Tarzan.
And, as she looked into his
face, she saw the crimson band
upon his forehead that she had
seen that other day in far distant
Africa, when Tarzan of the Apes
had closed in mortal combat with
the great anthropoid--Terkoz.
She knew that murder lay in
that savage heart, and with a
little cry of horror she sprang
forward to plead with the ape-man.
But her fears were more for Tarzan
than for Canler. She realized
the stern retribution which justice
metes to the murderer.
Before she could reach them,
however, Clayton had jumped to
Tarzan's side and attempted to
drag Canler from his grasp.
With a single sweep of one
mighty arm the Englishman was
hurled across the room, and then
Jane laid a firm white hand upon
Tarzan's wrist, and looked up
into his eyes.
"For my sake," she
said.
The grasp upon Canler's throat
relaxed.
Tarzan looked down into the
beautiful face before him.
"Do you wish this to live?" he
asked in surprise.
"I do not wish him to die at
your hands, my friend," she replied. "I
do not wish you to become a murderer."
Tarzan removed his hand from
Canler's throat.
"Do you release her from her
promise?" he asked. "It is the
price of your life."
Canler, gasping for breath,
nodded.
"Will you go
away and never molest her further?"
Again the man nodded his head,
his face distorted by fear of
the death that had been so close.
Tarzan released him, and Canler
staggered toward the door. In
another moment he was gone, and
the terror- stricken preacher
with him.
Tarzan turned toward Jane.
"May I speak with you for a
moment, alone," he asked.
The girl nodded and started
toward the door leading to the
narrow veranda of the little
hotel. She passed out to await
Tarzan and so did not hear the
conversation which followed.
"Wait," cried
Professor Porter, as Tarzan
was about to follow.
The professor had been stricken
dumb with surprise by the rapid
developments of the past few
minutes.
"Before we
go further, sir, I should like
an explanation
of the events which have just
transpired. By what right, sir,
did you interfere between my
daughter and Mr. Canler? I had
promised him her hand, sir, and
regardless of our personal likes
or dislikes, sir, that promise
must be kept."
"I interfered, Professor Porter," replied
Tarzan, "because your daughter
does not love Mr. Canler--she
does not wish to marry him. That
is enough for me to know."
"You do not know what you have
done," said Professor Porter. "Now
he will doubtless refuse to marry
her."
"He most certainly will," said
Tarzan, emphatically.
"And further," added Tarzan, "you
need not fear that your pride
will suffer, Professor Porter,
for you will be able to pay the
Canler person what you owe him
the moment you reach home."
"Tut, tut, sir!" exclaimed
Professor Porter. "What do you
mean, sir?"
"Your treasure has been found," said
Tarzan.
"What--what is that you are
saying?" cried the professor. "You
are mad, man. It cannot be."
"It is, though.
It was I who stole it, not
knowing either
its value or to whom it belonged.
I saw the sailors bury it, and,
ape-like, I had to dig it up
and bury it again elsewhere.
When D'Arnot told me what it
was and what it meant to you
I returned to the jungle and
recovered it. It had caused so
much crime and suffering and
sorrow that D'Arnot thought it
best not to attempt to bring
the treasure itself on here,
as had been my intention, so
I have brought a letter of credit
instead.
"Here it is, Professor Porter," and
Tarzan drew an envelope from
his pocket and handed it to the
astonished professor, "two hundred
and forty-one thousand dollars.
The treasure was most carefully
appraised by experts, but lest
there should be any question
in your mind, D'Arnot himself
bought it and is holding it for
you, should you prefer the treasure
to the credit."
"To the already great burden
of the obligations we owe you,
sir," said Professor Porter,
with trembling voice, "is now
added this greatest of all services.
You have given me the means to
save my honor."
Clayton, who had left the room
a moment after Canler, now returned.
"Pardon me," he said. "I
think we had better try to
reach town
before dark and take the first
train out of this forest. A native
just rode by from the north,
who reports that the fire is
moving slowly in this direction."
This announcement broke up
further conversation, and the
entire party went out to the
waiting automobiles.
Clayton, with Jane, the professor
and Esmeralda occupied Clayton's
car, while Tarzan took Mr. Philander
in with him.
"Bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Philander,
as the car moved off after Clayton. "Who
would ever have thought it possible!
The last time I saw you you were
a veritable wild man, skipping
about among the branches of a
tropical African forest, and
now you are driving me along
a Wisconsin road in a French
automobile. Bless me! But it
is most remarkable."
"Yes," assented Tarzan, and
then, after a pause, "Mr. Philander,
do you recall any of the details
of the finding and burying of
three skeletons found in my cabin
beside that African jungle?"
"Very distinctly, sir, very
distinctly," replied Mr. Philander.
"Was there
anything peculiar about any
of those skeletons?"
Mr. Philander eyed Tarzan narrowly.
"Why do you
ask?"
"It means a great deal to me
to know," replied Tarzan. "Your
answer may clear up a mystery.
It can do no worse, at any rate,
than to leave it still a mystery.
I have been entertaining a theory
concerning those skeletons for
the past two months, and I want
you to answer my question to
the best of your knowledge--were
the three skeletons you buried
all human skeletons?"
"No," said Mr. Philander, "the
smallest one, the one found in
the crib, was the skeleton of
an anthropoid ape."
"Thank you," said
Tarzan.
In the car ahead, Jane was
thinking fast and furiously.
She had felt the purpose for
which Tarzan had asked a few
words with her, and she knew
that she must be prepared to
give him an answer in the very
near future.
He was not the sort of person
one could put off, and somehow
that very thought made her wonder
if she did not really fear him.
And could she love where she
feared?
She realized the spell that
had been upon her in the depths
of that far-off jungle, but there
was no spell of enchantment now
in prosaic Wisconsin.
Nor did the immaculate young
Frenchman appeal to the primal
woman in her, as had the stalwart
forest god.
Did she love him? She did not
know--now.
She glanced at Clayton out
of the corner of her eye. Was
not here a man trained in the
same school of environment in
which she had been trained--a
man with social position and
culture such as she had been
taught to consider as the prime
essentials to congenial association?
Did not her best judgment point
to this young English nobleman,
whose love she knew to be of
the sort a civilized woman should
crave, as the logical mate for
such as herself?
Could she love Clayton? She
could see no reason why she could
not. Jane was not coldly calculating
by nature, but training, environment
and heredity had all combined
to teach her to reason even in
matters of the heart.
That she had been carried off
her feet by the strength of the
young giant when his great arms
were about her in the distant
African forest, and again today,
in the Wisconsin woods, seemed
to her only attributable to a
temporary mental reversion to
type on her part--to the psychological
appeal of the primeval man to
the primeval woman in her nature.
If he should never touch her
again, she reasoned, she would
never feel attracted toward him.
She had not loved him, then.
It had been nothing more than
a passing hallucination, super-induced
by excitement and by personal
contact.
Excitement would not always
mark their future relations,
should she marry him, and the
power of personal contact eventually
would be dulled by familiarity.
Again she glanced at Clayton.
He was very handsome and every
inch a gentleman. She should
be very proud of such a husband.
And then he spoke--a minute
sooner or a minute later might
have made all the difference
in the world to three lives --but
chance stepped in and pointed
out to Clayton the psychological
moment.
"You are free now, Jane," he
said. "Won't you say yes--I will
devote my life to making you
very happy."
"Yes," she
whispered.
That evening in the little
waiting room at the station Tarzan
caught Jane alone for a moment.
"You are free now, Jane," he
said, "and _I_ have come across
the ages out of the dim and distant
past from the lair of the primeval
man to claim you--for your sake
I have become a civilized man--for
your sake I have crossed oceans
and continents--for your sake
I will be whatever you will me
to be. I can make you happy,
Jane, in the life you know and
love best. Will you marry me?"
For the first time she realized
the depths of the man's love
--all that he had accomplished
in so short a time solely for
love of her. Turning her head
she buried her face in her arms.
What had she done? Because
she had been afraid she might
succumb to the pleas of this
giant, she had burned her bridges
behind her--in her groundless
apprehension that she might make
a terrible mistake, she had made
a worse one.
And then she told him all--told
him the truth word by word, without
attempting to shield herself
or condone her error.
"What can we do?" he asked. "You
have admitted that you love me.
You know that I love you; but
I do not know the ethics of society
by which you are governed. I
shall leave the decision to you,
for you know best what will be
for your eventual welfare."
"I cannot tell him, Tarzan," she
said. "He too, loves me, and
he is a good man. I could never
face you nor any other honest
person if I repudiated my promise
to Mr. Clayton. I shall have
to keep it--and you must help
me bear the burden, though we
may not see each other again
after tonight."
The others were entering the
room now and Tarzan turned toward
the little window.
But he saw nothing outside--within
he saw a patch of greensward
surrounded by a matted mass of
gorgeous tropical plants and
flowers, and, above, the waving
foliage of mighty trees, and,
over all, the blue of an equatorial
sky.
In the center of the greensward
a young woman sat upon a little
mound of earth, and beside her
sat a young giant. They ate pleasant
fruit and looked into each other's
eyes and smiled. They were very
happy, and they were all alone.
His thoughts were broken in
upon by the station agent who
entered asking if there was a
gentleman by the name of Tarzan
in the party.
"I am Monsieur Tarzan," said
the ape-man.
"Here is a
message for you, forwarded
from Baltimore; it
is a cablegram from Paris."
Tarzan took the envelope and
tore it open. The message was
from D'Arnot.
It read:
Fingerprints prove you Greystoke.
Congratulations. D'ARNOT.
As Tarzan finished reading,
Clayton entered and came toward
him with extended hand.
Here was the man who had Tarzan's
title, and Tarzan's estates,
and was going to marry the woman
whom Tarzan loved--the woman
who loved Tarzan. A single word
from Tarzan would make a great
difference in this man's life.
It would take
away his title and his lands
and his castles,
and--it would take them away
from Jane Porter also. "I say,
old man," cried Clayton, "I haven't
had a chance to thank you for
all you've done for us. It seems
as though you had your hands
full saving our lives in Africa
and here.
"I'm awfully
glad you came on here. We must
get better acquainted.
I often thought about you, you
know, and the remarkable circumstances
of your environment.
"If it's any
of my business, how the devil
did you ever get
into that bally jungle?"
"I was born there," said Tarzan,
quietly. "My mother was an Ape,
and of course she couldn't tell
me much about it. I never knew
who my father was."
The End
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