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The Monster Men, by Edgar Rice Burroughs
January, 1994 [Etext #96]

This etext was typed by Judy Boss in Omaha, Nebraska.
Proofread by John Hamm 

THE MONSTER MEN

Edgar Rice Burroughs

1

THE RIFT

As he dropped the last grisly fragment of the
dismembered and mutilated body into the small vat of
nitric acid that was to devour every trace of the
horrid evidence which might easily send him to the
gallows, the man sank weakly into a chair and throwing
his body forward upon his great, teak desk buried his
face in 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 overwrought nerves.  His
slender frame shook, as with ague, and at times was
racked by a convulsive shudder.  A sudden step upon the
stairway leading to his workshop brought him trembling
and wide eyed to his feet, staring fearfully at the
locked and bolted door.

Although he knew perfectly well whose the advancing
footfalls were, he was all but overcome by the madness
of apprehension as they came softly nearer and nearer
to the barred door.  At last they halted before it, to
be followed by a gentle 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-tale evidence of his emotion might
be betrayed in his speech.

"Daddy!" called the girl again, a trace of anxiety in
her voice this time.  "What IS the matter with you,
and what ARE you doing?  You've been shut up in
that hateful old room for three days now without 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
well controlled voice.  "I'll soon be through now--soon
be through--and then we'll go away for a long vacation--
for a long vacation."

"I'll give you until noon, Daddy," said the girl in a
voice which carried a more strongly defined tone of
authority than her father's soft drawl, "and then I
shall come into that room, if I have to use an axe, and
bring you out--do you understand?"

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

"All right, sweetheart, I'll be through by noon for
sure--by noon for sure.  Run along and play now, like a
good little girl."

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

"My dolls are all dressed for the day," she cried,
"and I'm tired of making mud pies--I want you to come out
and play with me."  But Professor Maxon did not reply--
he had returned to view his grim operations, and the
hideousness of them had closed his ears to the sweet
tones of the girl's voice.

As she turned to retrace her steps to the floor below
Miss Maxon still shook her 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 Arthur Maxon, a quiet, slender,
white-haired gentleman, who for several years was an
assistant professor in one of the departments of
natural science.  Wealthy by inheritance, he had chosen
the field of education for his life work solely from a
desire to be of some material benefit to mankind since
the meager salary which accompanied his professorship
was not of sufficient import to influence him in the
slightest degree.

Always keenly interested in biology, his almost
unlimited means had permitted him to undertake, in
secret, a series of daring experiments which had
carried him so far in advance of the biologists of his
day that he had, while others were still groping
blindly for the secret of life, actually reproduced by
chemical means the great phenomenon.

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

It was the very success of his last and most
pretentious effort that had placed him in the
horrifying predicament in which he now found himself--
with the corpse of what was apparently a human being in his
workshop and no available explanation that could possibly
be acceptable to a matter-of-fact and unscientific 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 chemically produced
counterfeit created in my own laboratory," they would
have smiled, 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 contingent upon 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 the finished result
of this last experiment had been succeeded by
overwhelming consternation as he saw the thing which he
had created gasp once or twice with the feeble spark of
life with which he had endowed it, and expire--leaving
upon his hands the corpse of what was, to all intent
and purpose, a human being, albeit a most grotesque and
misshapen thing.

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

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

But there were those there who recognized them, and one
especially who noted the lithe, trim figure and
beautiful face of Virginia Maxon though he did not know
even the name of their possessor.  It was a tall well
built young man who nudged one of his younger companions
as the girl crossed the platform to enter her 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 and
the professor, her father.  Now where do you suppose
they're going?"

"I don't know--now," replied the first speaker,
Townsend J. Harper, Jr., in a half whisper,
"but I'll bet you a new car that I find out."

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

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

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

His recent disastrous success had convinced him that
neither Ithaca nor any other abode of civilization was
a safe place to continue his experiments, but it was
not until their cruising had brought them among the
multitudinous islands of the East Indies that the plan
occurred to him that he finally adopted--a plan the
outcome of which could he then have foreseen would have
sent him scurrying to the safety of his own country
with the daughter who was to bear the full brunt of the
horrors it entailed.

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

The result was that at Manila, much to Virginia's
surprise, he announced the abandonment of the balance
of their purposed voyage, taking immediate return
passage to Singapore.  His daughter did not question
him as to the cause of this change in plans, for since
those three days that her father had kept himself
locked in his workroom at home the girl had noticed a
subtle change in her parent--a marked disinclination to
share with her his every confidence as had been his
custom since the death of her mother.

While it grieved her immeasurably she was both too
proud and too hurt to sue for a reestablishment of the
old relations.  On all other topics than his scientific
work their interests were as mutual as formerly, but by
what seemed a manner of tacit agreement this subject
was taboo.  And so it was that they came to Singapore
without the girl having the slightest conception of her
father's plans.

Here they spent nearly a month, during which time
Professor Maxon was daily engaged in interviewing
officials, English residents and a motley horde of
Malays and Chinamen.

Virginia met socially several of the men with whom her
father was engaged but it was only at the last moment
that one of them let drop a hint of the purpose of the
month's activity.  When Virginia was present the
conversation seemed always deftly guided from the
subject of her father's immediate future, and she was
not long in discerning that it was in no sense through
accident that this was true.  Thereafter her wounded
pride made easy the task of those who seemed combined
to keep her in ignorance.

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

"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 was planned.

"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 not the remotest idea of their location.

Von Horn admired her nerve though he rather wished that
she would ask some questions--it was difficult making
progress in this way.  How could he explain the plans
when she evinced not the slightest sign that she was
not already 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 isolated upon a savage little
speck of land off the larger but no less savage Borneo.
Do you think that your bravery is equal to the demands
that will be made upon it?"

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 islands would be much of a hardship--
certainly not if it will help to promote the success of
his scientific experiments."

She used the last words on a chance that she might have
hit upon the true reason for the contemplated isolation
from civilization.  They had served their purpose too
in deceiving von Horn who was now half convinced that
Professor Maxon must have divulged more of their plans
to his daughter than he had led the medical man to
believe.  Perceiving her advantage from the expression
on the young man's face, Virginia followed it up in an
endeavor to elicit the details.

The result of her effort was the knowledge that on the
second day they were to sail for the Pamarung Islands
upon a small schooner which her father had purchased,
with a crew of Malays and lascars, and von Horn, who
had served in the American navy, in command.  The
precise point of destination was still undecided--the
plan being to search out a suitable location upon one
of the 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 had been by far the most interesting
and companionable.  Such time as he could find from the
many duties which had devolved upon him in the matter
of obtaining and outfitting the schooner, and signing
her two mates and crew of fifteen, had been 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 none of
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 that interest
intelligent people regardless of sex.

There was never any suggestion of familiarity in his
manner; nor in his choice of topics did he ever ignore
the fact that she was a young girl.  She had felt
entirely 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 of the
departure of the Ithaca--the rechristened schooner
which was to carry them away to an unguessed fate.

The voyage from Singapore to the Islands was without
incident.  Virginia took a keen delight in watching the
Malays and lascars at their work, telling von Horn that
she had to draw upon her imagination but little to
picture herself a captive upon a pirate ship--the half
naked men, the gaudy headdress, the earrings, and the
fierce countenances of many of the crew furnishing only
too realistically the necessary savage setting.

A week spent among the Pamarung Islands disclosed no
suitable site for the professor's camp, nor was it
until they had cruised up the coast several miles north
of the equator and Cape Santang that they found a tiny
island a few miles off the coast opposite the mouth of
a small river--an island which fulfilled in every
detail their requirements.

It was uninhabited, fertile and possessed a clear,
sweet brook which had its source in a cold spring in
the higher land at the island's center.  Here it was
that the Ithaca came to anchor in a little harbor,
while her crew under von Horn, and the Malay first
mate, Bududreen, accompanied Professor Maxon in search
of a suitable location for a permanent camp.

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

Two hours after the departure of the men into the
jungle Virginia heard the fall of axes on timber and
knew that the site of her future home had been chosen
and the work of clearing begun.  She sat musing on the
strange freak which 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 an unwonted sadness drooped the corners of her mouth.

Of a sudden she realized how wide had become the gulf
between them now.  So imperceptibly had it grown since
those three horrid days in Ithaca just prior to their
departure for what was to have been but a few months'
cruise that 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 to point to the single fact that her
father had brought her here to this little island
without making the slightest attempt to explain the
nature of his expedition.  She had gleaned enough from
von Horn to understand that some important scientific
experiments were to be undertaken; but what their
nature she could not imagine, for she had not the
slightest conception of the success that had crowned
her father's last experiment at Ithaca, although she
had for years known of his keen interest in the subject.

The girl became aware also of other subtle changes in
her father.  He had long since ceased to be the jovial,
carefree companion who had shared with her her every
girlish joy and sorrow and in whom she had confided
both the trivial and momentous secrets of her
childhood.  He had become not exactly morose, but
rather moody and absorbed, so that she had of late
never found an opportunity for the cozy chats that had
formerly meant so much to them both.  There had been
too, recently, a strange lack of consideration for
herself that had wounded her more than she had
imagined.  Today there had been a glaring example of it
in his having left her alone upon the boat without a
single European companion--something that he would
never have thought of doing a few months before.

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

Presently her attention was arrested by a tossing speck
far out upon the rolling bosom of the strait.  For some
time the girl watched the object until at length it
resolved itself into a boat moving head on toward the
island.  Later she saw that it was long and low,
propelled by a single sail and many oars, and that 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 to within
half a mile of the anchorage of the Ithaca, and was
about to enter the mouth of the harbor Sing Lee's eyes
chanced to fall upon it.  On the instant the old
Chinaman was electrified into sudden and astounding
action.

"Klick!  Klick!" he cried, running toward Virginia.
"Go b'low, klick."

"Why should I go below, Sing?" queried the girl, amazed
by the demeanor of the cook.

"Klick!  Klick!" he urged grasping her by the arm--half
leading, half dragging her toward the companion-way.
"Plilates!  Mlalay plilates--Dyak plilates."

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

"You go b'low.  Mebbyso Sing flighten 'em.  Shoot
cannon.  Bling help.  Maxon come klick.  Bling men.
Chase'm 'way," explained the Chinaman.  "But plilates
see 'em pletty white girl," he shrugged his shoulders
and shook his head dubiously, "then old Sing no can
flighten 'em 'way."

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

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

At the shot the prahu slowed up, and a volley of
musketry from her crew satisfied Sing that he had made
no mistake in classifying her.  Her fire fell short 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 the momentary hesitation and confusion
which followed Sing's first shot, and then to her
dismay she saw the rowers bend to their oars again and
the prahu move swiftly in the direction of the Ithaca.

It was apparent that the pirates had perceived the
almost defenseless condition of the schooner.  In a few
minutes they would be swarming the deck, for poor old
Sing 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 it herself?  Von Horn had
explained its mechanism to her in detail, and on one
occasion had allowed her to operate it on the voyage
from Singapore.  With the thought came action.  Running
to the magazine she snatched up a feed-belt, and in
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, savage war cries.
There were, perhaps, fifty Dyaks and Malays--fierce,
barbaric men; mostly naked to the waist, or with war-
coats of brilliant colors.  The savage headdress of the
Dyaks, the long, narrow, decorated shields, the
flashing blades of parang and kris sent a shudder
through the girl, so close they seemed beneath the
schooner's side.

"What do?  What do?" cried Sing in consternation.
"Go b'low.  Klick!"  But before he had finished his
exhortation Virginia was racing toward the bow where
the machine gun was mounted.  Tearing the cover from it
she swung the muzzle toward the pirate prahu, which by
now was nearly within range above the vessel's side--
a moment more and she would be too close to use the
weapon upon the pirates.

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

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

At sight of the emblem of peace Virginia ceased firing.
She saw the tall Malay issue 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 a shot from the shore followed by loud
yelling, and the girl turned to see her father and von
Horn pulling rapidly toward the Ithaca.

2

THE HEAVY CHEST

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

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

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

For a week the men were busy constructing the new camp,
but never again was Virginia left without a sufficient
guard for her protection.  Von Horn was always needed
at the work, for to him had fallen the entire direction
of matters of importance that were at all of a
practical nature.  Professor Maxon wished to watch the
building of the houses and the stockade, that he might
offer such suggestions as he thought necessary, and
again the girl noticed her father's comparative
indifference to her welfare.

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

The nearer the approach of the time when he might enter
again upon those experiments which had now been
neglected for the better part of a year the more self
absorbed and moody became the professor.  At times he
was scarcely civil to those about him, and never now
did he have a pleasant word or a caress for the
daughter 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 her that there was a gleam of
dislike in them, as though he would have been glad to
have been rid of her that she might not in any way
embarrass or interfere with his work.

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

Late Sunday afternoon a small native boat was seen
rounding the point at the harbor's southern extremity,
and after a few minutes it drew alongside the Ithaca.
There were but three men in it--two Dyaks and a Malay.
The latter was a tall, well built man of middle age,
of a sullen and degraded countenance.  His garmenture
was that of the ordinary Malay boatman, but there was
that in his mien and his attitude toward his companions
which belied his lowly habiliments.

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

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

The Chinaman also saw the gleam that shot into the
visitor's eye as Virginia emerged from the cabin,
but by no word or voluntary outward sign did the 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 months before they again saw him.

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

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

"Sh!" admonished the celestial.  "No talkee so strong,
wallee have ear all same labbit."

"What do you mean, Sing?" asked the girl in a low voice.
"How perfectly weird and mysterious you are.
Why you make the cold chills run up my spine,"
she ended, laughing.  But Sing did not return
her smile as was his custom.

"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 had
reminded me I should never have thought to connect him
with our visitor of today--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 to pronouncing 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,"
was Sing's inelegant but convincing reply,
as he turned toward his galley.

The following morning the party, with the exception of
three Malays who were left to guard the Ithaca, set out
for the new camp.  The journey was up the bed of the
small stream which emptied into the harbor, so that
although fifteen men had passed back and forth through
the jungle from the beach to the camp every day for two
weeks, there was no sign that human foot had ever
crossed the narrow 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 was borne in a litter between
two powerful lascars it was not even necessary that she
wet her feet in the ascent of the stream to the camp.
The distance was short, the center of the camp being
but a mile from the harbor, and less than half a mile
from the opposite shore of the island which was but two
miles at its 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 little tableland, a palisade built
about it, and divided into three parts; the most
northerly of which contained a small house for herself
and her father, another for von Horn, and a common
cooking and eating house over which Sing was to preside.

The enclosure at the far end of the palisade was for
the Malay and lascar crew and there also were quarters
for Bududreen and the Malay second mate.  The center
enclosure contained Professor Maxon's workshop.  This
compartment of the enclosure Virginia was not invited
to inspect, but as members of the crew carried in the
two great chests which the professor had left upon the
Ithaca until the last moment, Virginia caught a glimpse
of the two buildings that had been erected within this
central space--a small, square house which was quite
evidently her father's laboratory, and a long, low
thatched shed divided into several compartments, each
containing a rude bunk.  She wondered for whom they
could be intended.  Quarters for all the party had
already been arranged for elsewhere, nor, thought she,
would her father wish to house any in such close
proximity to his workshop, where he would desire
absolute quiet and freedom from interruption.  The
discovery perplexed her not a little, but so changed
were her relations with her father that she would not
question him upon this or any other subject.

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

"Bludleen, him mate.  Why workee alsame lascar boy?  Eh?"
But Virginia 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 less enigmatical rejoinder the Chinaman
returned to his work.  But he muttered much to himself
the balance of the day, for Sing knew that a chest that
strained four men in the carrying could contain but one
thing, and he knew that Bududreen was as wise in such
matters as he.

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

There was a small bay on the island's east coast, only
a quarter of a mile from camp, in which oysters were
found, and one of the Ithaca's boats was brought around
to this side of the island for fishing.  Bududreen
often accompanied these expeditions, and on several
occasions the lynx-eyed Sing had seen him returning to
camp long after the others had retired for the night.

Professor Maxon scarcely ever left the central
enclosure.  For days and nights at a time Virginia
never saw him, his meals being passed in to him by Sing
through 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 the camp devoted to the
professor's experimentations.

Von Horn himself was often with his employer as he
enjoyed the latter's complete confidence, and owing to
his early medical training was well fitted to act as a
competent assistant; but he was often barred from the
workshop, and at such times was much with Virginia.

The two took long walks through the untouched jungle,
exploring their little island, and never failing to
find some new and wonderful proof of Nature's creative
power among its flora and fauna.

"What a marvellous thing is creation," exclaimed
Virginia as she and von Horn paused one day to admire a
tropical bird of unusually brilliant plumage.
"How insignificant is man's greatest achievement
beside the least of Nature's works."

"And yet," replied von Horn, "man shall find Nature's
secret some day.  What a glorious accomplishment for
him who first succeeds.  Can you imagine a more
glorious consummation of a man's life work--your
father's, for example?"

The girl looked at von Horn closely.

"Dr. von Horn," she said, "pride has restrained me from
asking what was evidently intended that I should not
know.  For years my father has been interested in an
endeavor to solve the mystery of life--that he would
ever attempt to utilize the secret should he have been
so fortunate as to discover it had never occurred to
me.  I mean that he should try to usurp the functions
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 gone to maintain
absolute secrecy for his present experiments can only
lead to one inference; and that, that his present work,
if successful, would have results that would not be
countenanced by civilized society or government.
Am I right?"

Von Horn had attempted to sound the girl that he might,
if possible, discover her attitude toward the work in
which her father and he were engaged.  He had succeeded
beyond his hopes, for he had not intended that she
should guess so much of the truth as she had.  Should
her interest in the work have proved favorable it had
been his intention to acquaint her fully with the
marvellous success which already had attended their
experiments, and to explain their hopes and plans for
the future, for he had seen how her father's attitude
had hurt her and hoped to profit himself by reposing in
her the trust and confidence that her father denied her.

And so it was that her direct question left him
floundering in a sea of embarrassment, for to tell her
the truth now would gain him no favor in her eyes,
while it certainly would lay him open to the suspicion
and distrust of her 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 to no one the slightest happening
within the court of mystery.  Remember that I am in
your father's employ, and that no matter what my
personal convictions may be regarding the work he has
been doing I may only act with loyalty to his lightest
command while I remain upon his payroll.  That you are
here," he added, "is my excuse for continuing my
connection with certain things of which my conscience
does not approve."

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

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

"She is only a child," he said, "and would not
understand the importance of the work we are doing.
All that she would be able to see is the immediate
moral effect of these experiments upon the subjects
themselves--she would not look into the future and
appreciate the immense advantage to mankind that must
accrue from a successful termination of our research.
The future of the world will be assured when once we
have demonstrated the possibility of the chemical
production of a perfect race."

"Number One, for example," suggested von Horn.

Professor Maxon glanced at him sharply.

"Levity, Doctor, is entirely out of place in the
contemplation of the magnificent work I have already
accomplished," said the professor tartly.  "I admit
that Number One leaves much to be desired--much to be
desired; but Number Two shows a marked advance along
certain lines, and I am sure that tomorrow will divulge
in experiment Number Three such strides as will forever
silence any propensity toward scoffing which you may
now entertain."

"Forgive me, Professor," von Horn hastened to urge.
"I did not intend to deride the wonderful discoveries
which you have made, but it is only natural that we
should both realize that Number One is not beautiful.
To one another we may say what we would not think of
suggesting to outsiders."

Professor Maxon was mollified by this apology,
and turned to resume his watch beside a large,
coffin-shaped vat.  For a while von Horn was silent.
There was that upon his mind which he had wished to discuss
with his employer since months 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 the subject now, as being psychologically as
favorable a time as any.

"Your daughter is far from happy, Professor," he said,
"nor do I feel that, surrounded as we are by semi-savage
men, she is entirely safe."

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 assist in adding to her happiness and
safety--in short, Professor, I should like your
permission to ask Virginia to marry me."

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

Sing Lee who stood just without the trap door through
which he was about to pass Professor Maxon's evening
meal to him could not be blamed for overhearing the
conversation, though it may have been culpable in him
in making no effort to divulge his presence, and
possibly equally unpraiseworthy, as well as lacking in
romance, to attribute the doctor's avowal to his
knowledge of the heavy chest.

As Professor Maxon eyed the man before replying to his
abrupt request, von Horn noted a strange and sudden
light in the older man's eyes--a something which he
never before had seen there and which caused an
uncomfortable sensation to creep over him--a manner of
bristling that was akin 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 are mad.  You do not know what you ask.  Virginia is
not for such as you.  Tell me that she does not know of
your feelings toward her.  Tell me that she does not
reciprocate your love.  Tell me the truth, man."
Professor Maxon seized von Horn roughly by both shoulders,
his glittering eyes glaring terribly into the other's.

"I have never spoken to her of love, Professor,"
replied von Horn quietly, "nor do I know what her
sentiments toward me may be.  Nor do I understand, sir,
what objections you may have to me--I am of a very old
and noble family."  His tone was haughty but respectful.

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

"I am glad," he said, "that it has gone no further, for it
must not be.  I have other, nobler aspirations for my daughter.
She must wed a perfect man--none such now exists.
It remains for me to bring forth the ideal mate for her--
nor is the time far distant.  A few more weeks and we
shall see such a being as I have long dreamed."
Again the queer light flickered 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 cold blood
have married this girl for the wealth he knew
that she would inherit; but the thought that
she was to be united with such a THING--
"Lord!  It is horrible," and his mind pictured
the fearful atrocity which was known as Number One.

Without a word he turned and left the campong.  A moment
later Sing's knock aroused Professor Maxon from the reverie
into which he had fallen, and he stepped 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 occupied closely with their work in the
court of mystery.  Developments were coming in riotous
confusion.  A recent startling discovery bade fare to
simplify and expedite the work far beyond the fondest
dreams of the scientist.

Von Horn's interest in the marvellous results that had
been obtained was little short of the professor's--
but he foresaw a very different outcome of it all,
and by day never moved without a gun at either hip,
and by night both of them were beside him.

Sing Lee, the noonday meal having been disposed of, set
forth with rod, string and 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 the unusual, and so it was that he saw the two
men upon the beach, while they did not see him at all.

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

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

"I tell you, Bududreen, that it will be quite safe,"
the tall Malay was saying.  "You yourself tell me that
none knows of the whereabouts of these white men, and
if they do not return your word will be accepted as to
their fate.  Your reward will be great if you bring the
girl to me, and if you doubt the loyalty of any of your
own people a kris will silence them as effectually as
it will silence the white men."

"It is not fear of the white men, oh, Rajah Muda
Saffir, that deters me," said Bududreen, "but how shall
I know that after I have come to your country with the
girl I shall not myself be set upon and silenced with a
golden kris--there be many that will be jealous of the
great service I have done for the mighty rajah."

Muda Saffir knew perfectly well that Bududreen had but
diplomatically expressed a fear as to his own royal
trustworthiness, but it did not anger him, since the
charge was not a direct one; but what he did not know
was of the heavy chest and Bududreen's desire to win
the price of the girl and yet be able to save for
himself a chance at the far greater fortune which he
knew lay beneath that 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 out of
earshot before either spoke again, so that what further
passed between them Sing could not even guess, but he
had heard enough to confirm the suspicions he had
entertained for a long while.

He did not fish for gulls that day.  Bududreen and Muda
Saffir stood talking upon the beach, and the Chinaman
did not dare venture forth for fear they might suspect
that he had overheard them.  If old Sing Lee knew his
Malays, he was also wise enough to give them credit for
knowing their Chinamen, so he waited quietly 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 were arranged in two rows down the
center of the laboratory.  The professor had been more
communicative and agreeable today than for some time
past, and their conversation had assumed more of the
familiarity that had marked it during the first 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 leave them 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 they are as they are, but
without them I could have never reached the perfection
that I am sure we are to find here," and he tapped
lovingly upon the heavy glass cover of the vat before
which he stood.  "And this is but the beginning.  There
can be no more mistakes now, though I doubt if we can
ever improve upon that which is so rapidly developing
here." Again he passed his long, slender hand
caressingly over the coffin-like vat at the head of
which was a placard bearing the words, NUMBER THIRTEEN.

"But the others, Professor!" insisted von Horn.
"We must decide.  Already they have become a problem of no
small dimensions.  Yesterday Number Five desired some
plantains that I had given to Number Seven.  I tried to
reason with him, but, as you know, he is mentally
defective, and for answer he rushed at Number Seven to
tear the coveted morsel from him.  The result was a
battle royal that might have put to shame two Bengal
tigers.  Twelve is tractable and intelligent.  With his
assistance and my bull whip I succeeded in separating
them before either was killed.  Your greatest error was
in striving at first for such physical perfection.  You
have overdone it, with the result that 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 do for them what I can--when I am gone they must
look to themselves.  I can see no way out of it."

"What you have given you may take away," said von Horn,
in a low tone.

Professor Maxon shuddered.  Those three horrid days in
the workshop at Ithaca flooded his memory with all the
gruesome details he had tried for so many months to
forget.  The haunting ghosts of the mental anguish that
had left him an altered man--so altered that there were
times when he had feared for his sanity!

"No, no!" he almost shouted.  "It would be murder.
They are--"

"They are THINGS," interrupted von Horn.  "They are
not human--they are not even beast.  They are terrible,
soulless creatures.  You have 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 of all to your daughter."

A cunning look came into the professor's eyes.

"I understand," he said.  "The precedent once established,
all must perish by its edict--even those which may not be
grotesque or bestial--even this perfect one," and he touched
again the vat, "and thus you would rid yourself of rival suitors.
But no!" he went on in a high, trembling voice.  "I shall not be
led to thus compromise myself, and be thwarted in my cherished plan.
Be this one what he may he shall wed my daughter!"

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

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

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

Not until the camp was wrapped in the quiet of slumber
did Sing Lee return--stealthy and mysterious--to creep
under cover of a moonless night 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 the laboratory, and the Chinaman had
slipped out, relocked the door, and scurried to his
nearby shack.  But there was no occasion for his haste--
no other ear than his had heard the sound within the
workshop.

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

"God!" he cried.  "It is all ruined.  Three more days
would have--"

"Look!" cried von Horn.  "It is not too soon."

Professor Maxon mustered courage to raise his eyes from
his hands, and there he beheld, seated in a far corner
of the room a handsome giant, physically perfect.  The
creature looked about him in a dazed, uncomprehending
manner.  A great question was writ large upon his
intelligent countenance.  Professor Maxon stepped
forward and took him by the hand.

"Come," he said, and led him toward a smaller room off
the main workshop.  The giant followed docilely, his
eyes roving about the room--the pitiful questioning
still upon his handsome features.  Von Horn turned
toward the campong.

Virginia, deserted by all, even the faithful Sing, who,
cheated of his sport on the preceding day, had again
gone to the beach to snare gulls, became restless of
the enforced idleness and solitude.  For a time she
wandered about the little compound which had been
reserved for the whites, but tiring of this she decided
to extend her stroll beyond the palisade, a thing which
she had never before done unless accompanied by von Horn--
a thing both he and her father had cautioned her against.

"What danger can there be?" she thought.  "We know that
the island is uninhabited by others than ourselves, and
that there are no dangerous beasts.  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 whether or not he cares.  Oh, dear, I wish I knew,"
and as she soliloquized she wandered past the little clearing
and into the jungle that lay behind the campong.

As von Horn and Professor Maxon talked together in the
laboratory before the upsetting of vat Number Thirteen,
a grotesque and horrible creature had slunk from the
low shed at the opposite side of the campong until it
had crouched at the flimsy door of the building in
which the two men conversed.  For a while it listened
intently, but when von Horn urged the necessity for
dispatching certain "terrible, soulless creatures" an
expression of intermingled fear and hatred convulsed
the hideous features, and like a great grizzly it
turned and lumbered awkwardly across the campong toward
the easterly, or back wall of the enclosure.

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

Finally it paused to look once more at the senseless
wood that barred its escape, as though measuring the
distance to the top.  Then the eyes roamed about the
campong to rest at last upon the slanting roof of the
thatched shed which was 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 formed the frame work of the roof.
Like a huge sloth he drew himself to the roof of the
structure.  From here he could see beyond the palisade,
and the wild freedom of the jungle called to him.  He
did not know what it was but in its leafy wall he
perceived many breaks and openings that offered
concealment from the creatures who were plotting to
take his life.

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

The creature glanced fearfully toward the workshop.
He remembered the cruel bull whip that always followed
each new experiment on his part that did not coincide
with the desires of his master, and as he thought of
von Horn a nasty gleam shot his mismated eyes.

He tried to reach across the distance between the roof
and the palisade, and in the attempt lost his balance
and nearly precipitated himself to the ground below.
Cautiously he drew back, still looking about for some
means to cross the chasm.  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 them side by side, formed a safe and
easy path to freedom.  A moment more and he sat astride
the top of the wall.  Drawing the poles after him, he
dropped them one by 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
bull whip was still strong upon him.  The green foliage
closed about him and the peaceful jungle gave no sign
of the horrid brute that roamed its shadowed mazes.

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

As the man entered they looked furtively at the bull
whip which trailed from his right hand, and then
glanced fearfully at one another as though questioning
which 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 a thing whose forehead gave greater promise of
intelligence than any of his companions.

The one addressed shook his head.

Von Horn turned and made a circuit of the campong.
There was no sign of the missing one and no indication
of any other irregularity than the demolished portion
of the roof.  With an expression of mild concern upon
his face he entered the workshop.

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

Professor Maxon looked up in surprise, but before he
had an opportunity to reply a woman's scream, shrill
with horror, smote upon their startled ears.

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

Virginia Maxon, idling beneath the leafy shade of the
tropical foliage, became presently aware that she had
wandered farther from the campong than she had intended.
The day was sultry, and the heat, even in the dense shade
of the jungle, oppressive.  Slowly she retraced her steps,
her eyes upon the ground, her mind absorbed in sad consideration
of her father's increasing moodiness and eccentricity.

Possibly it was this very abstraction which deadened
her senses to the near approach of another.  At any
rate the girl's first intimation that she was not alone
came when she raised her eyes to look full into the
horrid countenance of a fearsome monster which blocked
her path toward camp.

The sudden shock brought a single involuntary scream
from her lips.  And who can wonder!  The thing thrust
so unexpectedly before her eyes was hideous in the
extreme.  A great mountain of deformed flesh clothed in
dirty, white cotton pajamas!  Its face was of the ashen
hue of a fresh corpse, while the white hair and 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 the horizontal plane of its tiny mate.
The nose was but a gaping orifice above a deformed and
twisted mouth.  The thing was chinless, and its small,
foreheadless head surrounded its colossal body like a
cannon ball on a hill top.  One arm was at least twelve
inches longer than its mate, which was itself long in
proportion to the torso, while the legs, similarly
mismated and terminating in huge, flat feet that
protruded laterally, caused the thing to lurch fearfully
from side to side as it lumbered toward the girl.

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

Number One lurched forward, his arms outstretched
toward the horror stricken girl.  Virginia tried to cry
out again--she tried to turn and run; but the horror of
her impending fate and the terror that those awful
features induced left her paralyzed and helpless.

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

The battle was short--short and terrible.  The valiant
Chinaman sought the ashen throat of his antagonist, but
his wiry, sinewy muscles were as reeds beneath the
force of that inhuman power that opposed them.  Holding
the girl at arm's length in one hand, Number One tore
the battling Chinaman from him with the other, and
lifting him bodily above his head, hurled him stunned
and bleeding against the bole of a giant buttress tree.
Then lifting Virginia in his arms once more he dived
into the impenetrable mazes of the jungle that lined
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 first time
since the camp was completed it stood unlatched and ajar.

The professor had been engaged in taking careful
measurements of the head of his latest experiment, the
while he coached the young man in the first rudiments
of spoken language, and now the subject of his labors
found himself suddenly deserted and alone.  He had not
yet been without the four walls of the workshop, as the
professor had wished to keep him from association with
the grotesque results of his earlier experiments, and
now a natural curiosity tempted him to approach the
door through which his creator and the man with the
bull whip had so suddenly disappeared.

He saw before him a great walled enclosure roofed by a
lofty azure dome, and beyond 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 the first 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 the sweetness of it all, filling his
great lungs to their fullest; and with the first 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 which surged to his brain through every
sense.  He longed for more, and the open gateway of the
campong was a scarce needed invitation to pass to the
wide world beyond.  With the free and easy tread of
utter unconsciousness of self, he passed across the
enclosure and stepped out into the clearing which lay
between the palisade and the jungle.

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

Brilliant birds rose from amidst it all, skimming
hither and thither above his head--he thought that the
flowers and the birds were the same, and when he
reached out and plucked a blossom, tenderly,
he wondered that it did not flutter in his hand.
On and on he walked, but slowly, for he must not miss
a single sight in the strange and wonderful place; and then,
of a sudden, the quiet beauty of the scene was harshly
broken by the crashing of a monster through the underbrush.

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

What a horrid creature!  But on the same instant his eyes
fell upon another borne in the arms of the terrible one.
This one was different--very different,-- 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 the lovely one upon him,
and her arms outstretched toward him, though he did 
not understand the words upon her lips, he knew that
she was in distress.  Something told him that it was the
ugly thing that carried her that was the author of her suffering.

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

At the sight of the man her voice returned with
returning hope, and she reached her arms toward him,
calling upon him to save her.  Although he did not
respond she thought that he understood for he sprang
toward them before her appeal was scarce 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 new assailant with
the other; but here was very different metal than had
succumbed to him before.

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

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

His captive sank to the ground, too weak from the
effects of nervous shock to escape, and with horror-
filled eyes watched the two who battled over her.  She
saw that her would-be rescuer was young and strong
featured--all together a very fine specimen of manhood;
and to her great wonderment it was soon apparent that
he was no unequal match for the great mountain of
muscle that he fought.

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 for
their heavy breathing and an occasional beast-like
snarl from Number One.  For several minutes they fought
thus until the younger man succeeded in getting both
hands upon the throat of his adversary, and then,
choking relentlessly, he raised the brute with him from
the ground and rushed him fiercely backward against the
stem of a tree.  Again and again he hurled the
monstrous thing upon the 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 the girl.

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 ignorance
and inexperience of the new-born.  And so he acted as a
child acts, in imitation of 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 gathered Virginia Maxon in his great arms.

She tried to tell him that she could walk after a
moment's rest, but it was soon evident that he did not
understand her, as a puzzled expression came to his
face and he did not put her down as she asked.  Instead
he stood irresolute for a time, and then moved slowly
through the jungle.  By chance his direction was toward
the camp, and this fact so relieved the girl's mind that
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 that she never had seen so
marvellously clean cut features, or a more high and
noble countenance, and she wondered how it was that
this white man was upon the island and she not have
known it.  Possibly he was a new arrival--his presence
unguessed even by her father.  That he was neither
English nor American was evident from the fact that he
could not understand her native tongue.  Who could he
be! What was he doing upon their island!

As she watched his face he suddenly turned his eyes
down upon her, and as she looked hurriedly away she was
furious with herself as she felt a crimson flush mantle
her cheek.  The man only half sensed, in a vague sort
of way, the meaning of the tell tale color and the
quickly averted eyes; but he became suddenly aware of
the pressure of her delicate body against his, as he
had not been before.  Now he kept his eyes upon her
face as he walked, and a new emotion filled his breast.
He did not understand it, but it was very pleasant, and
he knew 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 the trail toward the east coast of
the island, and about halfway of the distance they
stumbled upon the dazed and bloody Sing just as he was
on the point of regaining 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 any more.  Wakee up--all glone," moaned the Chinaman
as he tried to gain his 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 giant creature and its prey.

Von Horn and Professor Maxon followed closely in
Sing's wake, the younger man horrified by the terrible
possibilities that obtruded themselves into his
imagination despite his every effort to assure himself
that no harm could come to Virginia Maxon before they
reached her.  The girl's father had not spoken since
they discovered that she was missing from the campong,
but his face was white and drawn; his eyes wide and
glassy as those of one whose mind is on the verge of
madness from a great nervous shock.

The trail of the creature was bewilderingly erratic.
A dozen paces straight through the underbrush, then a
sharp turn at right angles for no apparent reason, only
to veer again suddenly in a new direction!  Thus,
turning and twisting, the tortuous way led them toward
the south end of the island, until Sing, who was in
advance, gave a sharp cry of surprise.

"Klick!  Look see!" he cried excitedly.  "Blig blute dead--
vely muchee dead."

Von Horn rushed forward to where the Chinaman was
leaning over the body of Number One.  Sure enough,
the great brute lay motionless, its horrid face even more
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 his assailant and the
thick skull crushed and splintered from terrific impact
with the tree.

Professor Maxon leaned over von Horn's shoulder.
"Ah, poor Number One," he sighed, "that you should have come
to such an untimely end--my child, my child."

Von Horn looked at him, a tinge of compassion in his
rather hard face.  It touched the man that his employer
was at last shocked from the obsession of his work to a
realization of the love and duty he owed his daughter;
he thought that 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
call this thing `child' and mourn over it when you do
not yet know the fate of your own daughter?"

Professor Maxon looked up sadly.  "You do not
understand, Dr. von Horn," 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 older man--what little feeling of loyalty
and affection he had ever felt for him gone forever.
Sing was looking about for evidences of the cause of
Number One's death and the probable direction in which
Virginia Maxon had disappeared.

"What on earth could have killed this enormous brute, Sing?
Have you any idea?" asked von Horn.

The Chinaman shook his head.

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

"This way," cried Sing presently, and started off once
more into the brush, but this time in a northwesterly
direction, toward camp.

In silence the three men followed the new trail,
all puzzled beyond measure to account for the death
of Number One at the hands of what must have been a
creature of superhuman strength.  What could it have
been!  It was impossible that any of the Malays or
lascars could have done the thing, and there were no
other creatures, brute or human, upon the island large
enough to have coped even for an instant with the
ferocious brutality of the dead monster, except--
von Horn's brain came to a sudden halt at the thought.
Could it be?  There seemed no other explanation.
Virginia Maxon had been rescued from one soulless
monstrosity to fall into the hands of another equally
irresponsible and terrifying.

Others then must have escaped from the campong.
Von Horn loosened his guns in their holsters,
and took a fresh grip upon his bull whip as he
urged Sing forward upon the trail.  He wondered
which one it was, but not once did it occur to him
that the latest result of Professor Maxon's experiments
could be the rescuer of Virginia Maxon.  In his mind he
could see only the repulsive features of one of the others.

Quite unexpectedly they came upon the two, and with a
shout von Horn leaped forward, 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 upon the ground behind him
and advanced to meet his assailant.

"Out of the way, you--monstrosity," cried von Horn.
"If you have harmed Miss Maxon I'll put a bullet in
your heart!"

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

Von Horn, possibly intentionally, misinterpreted the
other's motive, and raising his bull whip struck Number
Thirteen a vicious cut across the face, at the same time
levelling his revolver point blank at the broad beast.
But before ever he could pull the trigger an avalanche
of muscle was upon him, and he went down to the rotting
vegetation of the jungle with five sinewy fingers at his throat.

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

Virginia Maxon looked on in horror as she realized that
her rescuer was quickly choking Dr. von Horn to death.
With a little cry she sprang to her feet and ran toward them,
just as her father emerged from the underbrush through
which he had been struggling in the trail of the agile
Chinaman and von Horn.  Placing her hand upon the great
wrist of the giant she tried to drag his fingers from
von Horn's throat, pleading meanwhile with both voice
and eyes for the life 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
feet and at the same instant brought his other gun from
his side and levelled it upon the man who had released him;
but as his finger tightened upon the trigger Virginia Maxon
sprang between them and grasping von Horn's wrist deflected
the muzzle of the gun just as the cartridge exploded.
Simultaneously Professor Maxon sprang from his grasp
and hurled him back with the superhuman strength of a maniac.

"Fool!" he cried.  "What would you do?  Kill--,"
and then of a sudden he realized his daughter's presence
and the necessity for keeping the origin of the young
giant from her knowledge.

"I am surprised at you, Dr. von Horn," he continued in
a more level voice.  "You must indeed have forgotten
yourself to thus attack a stranger upon our island
until you know whether he be friend or foe.  Come!
Escort my daughter to the camp, while I make the proper
apologies to this gentleman."  As he saw that both
Virginia and von Horn hesitated, he repeated his command
in a peremptory tone, adding; "Quick, now; do as I bid you."

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

Now in Number Thirteen's brief career he had known no
other authority than Professor Maxon's, and so it was
that when his master laid a hand upon his wrist he
remained beside him while another walked away with the
lovely creature he had thought his very own.

Until after dark the professor kept the young man
hidden in the jungle, and then, 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 von Horn about the young giant
who had rescued her, until the man feared that she was
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, and thus freed had determined
to use every means within his power to win Professor
Maxon's daughter, and with her the heritage of wealth
which he knew would be hers should her father,
through some unforeseen mishap, meet death before
he could return to civilization and alter his will,
a contingency which von Horn knew he might have to consider
should he marry the girl against her father's wishes, and
thus thwart the crazed man's mad, but no less dear project.

He realized that first he must let the girl fully
understand the grave peril in which she stood,
and turn her hope of protection from her father to himself.
He imagined that the initial step in undermining
Virginia's confidence in her father would be to narrate
every detail of the weird experiments which Professor
Maxon had brought to such successful issues during
their residence upon 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 the jungle and nearly killed poor Sing?"
she asked.

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

"I cannot tell you, Miss Maxon," he said sadly,
"how much I should hate to be the one to ignore your
father's commands, and enlighten you upon this and
other subjects which lie nearer to your personal
welfare than you can possibly guess; but I feel that
after the horrors of this day duty demands that I must
lay all before you--you cannot again be exposed to the
horrors 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's confidence
I prefer that you remain silent."

"You do not understand," broke in the man, "you cannot
guess the horrors that I have seen upon this island,
or the worse horrors that are to come.  Could you dream
of what lies in store for you, you would seek death rather
than face the future.  I have been loyal to your father,
Virginia, but were you not blind, or indifferent,
you would long since have seen that your welfare
means more to me than my loyalty to him--
more to me than my life or my honor.

"You asked where the creature came from that attacked
you today.  I shall tell you.  It is one of a dozen
similarly hideous things that your father has created
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 the functions of God created that awful thing?"
she asked in a low, faint voice, "and that there are
others like it upon the island?"

"In the campong next to yours there are a dozen others,"
replied von Horn, "nor would it be easy to say which
is the most hideous and repulsive.  They are grotesque
caricatures of humanity--without soul and almost without brain."

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

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

"The worst!" exclaimed the girl.  "What could be worse
than that which you already have divulged?  Oh, how could
you have permitted it?"

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

"Yes," and as the girl replied a convulsive shudder
racked her frame.

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

"Virginia," he said in a very low voice, "it is your
father'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. von Horn how could you tell me such a cruel
and terrible untruth."

"As God is my judge, Virginia," and the man reverently
uncovered as he spoke, "it is the truth.  Your father
told me it in so many words when I asked his permission
to pay court to you myself--you are to marry Number
Thirteen 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 his inmost soul.

"Let me have time to consider it, Doctor," she replied.
"I do not know that I care for you in that way at all."

"Think of Number Thirteen," he suggested.  "It should
not be difficult to decide."

"I could not marry you simply to escape a worse fate,"
replied the girl.  "I am not that cowardly--but let me
think it over.  There can be no immediate danger, I am sure."

"One can never tell," replied von Horn, "what strange,
new vagaries may enter a crazed mind to dictate this
moment's action or the next."

"Where could we wed?" asked Virginia.

"The Ithaca would bear us to Singapore, and when we
returned you would be under 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 she entered her quarters.

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

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

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

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

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

Von Horn was really the only stumbling block in
Bududreen's path.  With the natural cowardice of the
Malay he feared this masterful American who never moved
without a brace of guns slung about his hips; and it
was at just this psychological 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 had about decided to resort to
force when he was precipitately confirmed in his
decision by a conversation with the girl's father.

He and the professor were talking in the workshop of
the remarkable progress of Number Thirteen toward a
complete mastery of English and the ways and manners
of society, in which von Horn had been assisting his
employer to train the young giant.  The breach between
the latter and von Horn had been patched over by
Professor Maxon's explanations to Number Thirteen
as soon as the young man was able to comprehend--in the
meantime it had been necessary to keep von Horn out of
the workshop except when the giant was confined in his
own room off the larger one.

Von Horn had been particularly anxious, for the furtherance
of certain plans he had in mind, to effect a reconciliation
with Number Thirteen, to reach a basis of friendship
with the young man, and had left no stone unturned
to accomplish this 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 to Virginia, but we must be careful
that she has no inkling of his origin until mutual
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
the professor, the strange gleam leaping to his eyes at
the suggestion of possible antagonism to his cherished
plan, "but if not, then they shall be compelled by
the force of my authority--they both belong to me,
body and soul."

"You will wait for the final consummation of your
desires until you return with them to civilization,
I presume," said von Horn.

"And why?" returned the professor.  "I can wed them
here myself--it would be the surer way--yes, that is
what I shall do."

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

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

"You are getting along nicely, Jack," he said kindly,
looking over the other's shoulder and using the name
which had been adopted at his suggestion to lend a more
human tone to their relations with the nameless man.

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

"Jack," said von Horn, sadly, "I am afraid there
is a terrible and disappointing awakening for you.
It grieves me that it should be so, but it seems only
fair to tell you, what Professor Maxon either does not know
or has forgotten, that his daughter will not look with
pleasure upon you when she learns your origin.

"You are not as other men.  You are but the accident of
a laboratory experiment.  You have no soul, and the
soul is all that raises man above the beasts.  Jack,
poor boy, you are not a human being--you are not even
a beast.  The world, and Miss Maxon is of the world,
will look upon you as a terrible creature to be shunned--
a horrible monstrosity far lower in the scale of creation
than the lowest order of brutes.

"Look," and the man pointed through the window toward
the group of hideous things that wandered aimlessly
about the court of mystery.  "You are of the same breed
as those, you differ from them only in the symmetry of
your face and features, and the superior development of
your brain.  There is no place 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 to tell you; but it is better that
you know it now from a friend than that you meet the
bitter truth when you least expected it, and possibly
from the lips of one 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 and more 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 him inwardly--only in the
pose was utter dejection and hopelessness.

The older man could not repress a cold smile--it had
had more effect than he had hoped.

"Don't take it too hard, my boy," he continued.
"The world is wide.  It would be easy to find a thousand
places where your antecedents would be neither known
nor questioned.  You might be very happy elsewhere and
there a hundred thousand girls as beautiful and sweet
as Virginia Maxon--remember that you have never seen
another, so you can scarcely judge."

"Why did he ever bring me into the world?" exclaimed
the young man suddenly.  "It was wicked--wicked--
terribly cruel and wicked."

"I agree with you," said von Horn quickly, seeing
another possibility that would make his future plans
immeasurably easier.  "It was wicked, and it is still
more wicked to continue the work and bring still other
unfortunate creatures into the world to be the butt
and plaything of cruel fate."

"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 were necessary to kill him."

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

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

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

"Bududreen," said von Horn, when the two had reached a
safe distance from the enclosures, "there is no need of
mincing matters--something must be done at once.  I do
not know how much you know of the work that Professor
Maxon has been engaged in since we reached this island;
but it has been hellish enough and it must go no
further.  You have seen the 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," von Horn continued.  "She loves me and we
wish to escape--can I rely on you and your men to aid
us?  There is a chest in the workshop which we must
take along too, and I can assure you that you all will
be well rewarded for your work.  We intend merely to leave
Professor Maxon here with the creatures he has created."

Bududreen could scarce repress a smile--it was indeed
too splendid to be true.

"It will be perilous work, Captain," he answered.
"We should all be hanged were we caught."

"There will be no danger of that, Bududreen,
for there will be no one to divulge our secret."

"There will be the Professor Maxon," urged the Malay.
"Some day he will escape from the island, and then we
shall all hang."

"He will never escape," replied von Horn, "his own
creatures will see to that.  They are already
commencing to realize the horrible crime he has
committed against them, and when once they are fully
aroused there will be no safety for any of us.  If you
wish to leave the island at all it will be best for you
to accept my proposal and leave while your head yet
remains upon your shoulders.  Were we to suggest to the
professor that he leave now he would not only refuse
but he would take steps to make it impossible for any
of us to leave, even to sinking the Ithaca.  The man
is mad--quite mad--Bududreen, and we cannot longer
jeopardize our own throats merely to humor his crazy
and criminal whims."

The Malay was thinking fast, and could von Horn have
guessed what thoughts raced through the tortuous
channels of that semi-barbarous brain he would have
wished 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 toward the harbor.
They, with the three on watch, were to get the vessel
in readiness for immediate departure.

After the evening meal von Horn sat on the verandah
with Virginia Maxon until the Professor came from the
workshop to retire for the night.  As he passed them he
stopped for a word with von Horn, taking him aside out
of the girl's hearing.

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

"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 the campong think nothing of it.
I may take him for a long walk.  It is possible that
the hard study and close confinement to that little
building have been too severe upon his brain and nerves.
A long walk each evening may bring him around all right."

"Splendid--splendid," replied the professor.  "You may
be quite right.  Do it by all means, my dear doctor,"
and there was a touch of the old, friendly, sane tone
which had been so long missing, that almost caused von
Horn to feel a trace of compunction for the hideous act
of disloyalty that he was on the verge of perpetrating.

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

6

TO KILL!

The Rajah Muda Saffir, tiring of the excuses and delays
which Bududreen interposed to postpone the fulfillment
of his agreement with the former, whereby he was to deliver
into the hands of the rajah a certain beautiful maiden,
decided at last to act upon his own initiative.
The truth of the matter was 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 desire to possess the girl for himself.

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

At the same moment von Horn was leading Virginia Maxon
farther and farther from the north campong where resistance,
if there was to be any, would be most likely to occur.
At his superior's cough Bududreen had signalled silently
to the men within the enclosure, and a moment later
six savage lascars crept stealthily 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 north
campong.  There was murder in the cowardly hearts of
several of them, and stupidity and lust in the hearts
of all.  There was no single one who would not betray
his best friend for a handful of silver, nor any but
was inwardly hoping and scheming to the end that he
might alone possess both the chest and the girl.

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

While these events were transpiring Number Thirteen
was pacing restlessly back and forth the length of
the workshop.  But a short time before he had had his
author--the author of his misery--within the four walls
of his prison, and yet he had not wreaked the vengeance
that was in his heart.  Twice he had been on the point
of springing upon the man, but both times the other's
eyes had met his and something which he was not able to
comprehend had stayed him.  Now that the other had gone
and he was alone contemplation of the hideous wrong that
had been done loosed again the flood gates of his pent rage.

The thought that he had been made by this man--made in
the semblance of a human being, yet denied by the
manner of his creation a place among the lowest of
Nature's creatures--filled him with fury, but it was
not this thought that drove him to the verge of
madness.  It was the knowledge, suggested by von Horn,
that Virginia Maxon would look upon him in horror,
as a grotesque and loathsome monstrosity.

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

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

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

Number Thirteen reached the verandah of the house and
peered through the window into the living room, where
an oil lamp, turned low, dimly lighted the interior,
which he saw was unoccupied.  Going to the door he
pushed it open and entered the apartment.  All was
still within.  He listened intently for some slight
sound which might lead him to the victim he sought,
or warn him from the apartment of the girl or that of
von Horn--his business was with Professor Maxon.  He did
not wish to disturb the others whom he believed to be
sleeping somewhere within the structure--a low,
rambling bungalow of eight rooms.

Cautiously he approached one of the four doors which
opened from the living room.  Gently he turned the knob
and pushed the door ajar.  The interior of the
apartment beyond was in inky darkness, but Number
Thirteen's greatest fear 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, the knowledge that she would look
upon him as a terrifying monstrosity, added new fuel
to the fires of hate that raged in his bosom against
the man who had created him.  With clenched fists,
and tight set jaws the great, soulless giant moved 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 before he reached the bed.

Scarce breathing he leaned over and groped across the
covers with his fingers in search of his prey--the bed
was empty.  With the discovery came a sudden nervous
reaction that sent him into a cold sweat.  Weakly,
he seated himself upon the edge of the bed.
Had his fingers found the throat of Professor Maxon
beneath the coverlet they would never have released
their hold until life had forever left the body
of the scientist, but now that the highest tide
of the young man's hatred had come and gone
he found himself for the first time assailed by doubts.

Suddenly he recalled the fact that the man whose life
he sought was the father of the beautiful creature he adored.
Perhaps she loved him and would be unhappy were he taken
away from her.  Number Thirteen did not know, of course,
but the idea obtruded itself, and had sufficient weight
to cause him to remain seated upon the edge of the
bed meditating upon the act he contemplated.
He had by no means given up the idea of killing
Professor Maxon, but now there were doubts
and obstacles which had not been manifest before.

His standards of right and wrong were but half formed,
from the brief attempts of Professor Maxon and von Horn
to inculcate proper moral perceptions in a mind entirely
devoid of hereditary inclinations toward either good or bad,
but he realized one thing most perfectly--that to be
a soulless thing was to be damned in the estimation
of Virginia Maxon, and it now occurred to him that
to kill her father would be the act of a soulless being.
It was this thought more than another that caused him
to pause in the pursuit of his revenge, since he knew
that the act he contemplated would brand him the
very thing he was, yet wished not to be.

At length, however, he slowly comprehended that no act
of his would change the hideous 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 to continue his search for the professor.

In the workshop Bududreen and his men had easily
located the chest.  Dragging it into the north campong
the Malay was about to congratulate himself upon the
ease with which the theft had been accomplished when
one of his fellows declared his intention of going to
the house for the purpose of dispatching Professor
Maxon, lest the influence of his evil eye should
overtake them with some terrible curse when the loss
of the chest should be discovered.

While this met fully with Bududreen's plans he urged
the man against any such act that he might have
witnesses to prove that he not only had no hand in the
crime, but had exerted his authority to prevent it;
but when two of the men separated themselves from the party
and crept toward the bungalow no force was interposed
to stop them.

The moon had risen now, so that from the dark shadows
of the palisade Muda Saffir and his savages watched the
party with Bududreen squatting about the heavy chest,
and saw the two who crept toward the house.  To Muda
Saffir's evil mind there was but one explanation.
Bududreen had discovered a rich treasure, and having
stolen that had dispatched two of his men to bring him
the girl also.

Rajah Muda Saffir was furious.  In subdued whispers he
sent a half dozen of his Dyaks back beneath the shadow
of the palisade to the opposite side of the bungalow
where they were to enter the building, killing all
within except the girl, 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 until opposite Bududreen and the watchers
about the chest.  Just as the two who crept toward the
bungalow reached it, Muda Saffir gave the word for the
attack upon the Malays and lascars who guarded the
treasure.  With savage yells they dashed upon the
unsuspecting men.  Parangs and spears glistened in the
moonlight.  There was a brief and bloody encounter,
for the cowardly Bududreen and his equally cowardly crew
had had no alternative but to fight, so suddenly had
the foe fallen upon them.

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

As Number Thirteen arose to continue his search for
Professor Maxon his quick ear caught the shuffling of
bare feet upon the verandah.  As he paused to listen
there 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 to ascertain the cause of the
wild alarm, while at the same instant Bududreen's assassins
sprang through the door with upraised krisses, to be
almost immediately followed by Muda Saffir's six Dyaks
brandishing their 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,
fell first upon Bududreen's lascars who, cornered
in the small room, fought like demons for their lives,
so that when the Dyaks had overcome them two of their own
number lay dead beside the dead bodies of Bududreen's henchmen.

Sing and Professor Maxon stood in the doorway to the
professor's room gazing upon the scene of carnage in
surprise and consternation.  The scientist was unarmed,
but Sing held a long, wicked looking Colt in readiness
for any contingency.  It was evident the celestial was
no stranger to the use of his deadly weapon, nor to the
moments of extreme and sudden peril which demanded its use,
for he seemed no more perturbed than had he been but
hanging out his weekly wash.

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

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

The man with whom Professor Maxon had grappled had no
opportunity to use his weapons for the crazed man held
him close with one encircling arm while he tore and
struck at him with his free hand.  The fourth Dyak
danced around the two with raised parang watching for
an opening that he might deliver a silencing blow 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 the father of the
beautiful creature he worshipped, wrought a sudden
change in Number Thirteen.  In an instant he forgot
that he had come here to kill the white-haired man,
and with a bound stood in the center of the room--
an unarmed giant towering above the battling four.

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

Tearing him loose from his prey, he raised him far
above his head and threw him heavily against the
opposite wall, then he turned his attention toward
Sing's assailants.  All that had so far saved the
Chinaman from death was the fact that the two savages
were each so anxious to secure his head for the
verandah rafters of his own particular long-house
that they interfered with one another in the
consummation of their common desire.

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

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

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

When they caught up with Rajah Muda Saffir near the beach,
they narrated a fearful 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 terrific odds.
They swore that even then they had only returned because the girl
was not in the house--otherwise they should have brought her
to their beloved master as he had directed.

Now Muda Saffir believed nothing that they said, but he
was well pleased with the great treasure which had so
unexpectedly fallen into his hands, and he decided to
make quite sure of that by transporting it to his own land--
later he could return for the girl.  So the ten war prahus
of the Malay 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 bore away for Borneo.

In the bungalow within the north campong Sing and
Number Thirteen had lifted Professor Maxon to his bed,
and the Chinaman was engaged in bathing and bandaging
the wound that had left the older man unconscious.
The white giant stood beside him watching his every move.
He was trying to understand why sometimes men killed
one another and again defended and nursed.  He was
curious as 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 at
Sing's command set about the task of helping to nurse
the man whom he considered the author of his unhappiness
and whom a few short minutes before he had come to kill.

As the two worked over the stricken man their ears
were suddenly assailed by a wild commotion from the
direction of the workshop.  There were sounds of
battering upon wood, loud growls and roars, mingled
with weird shrieks and screams 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 he shuddered--but not from fear.

7

THE BULL WHIP

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

"I cannot do it, Doctor von Horn," she had said.
"No matter how much danger I may be in here I cannot desert
my father on this lonely isle with only savage lascars
and the terrible monsters of his own creation
surrounding him.  Why, it would be little short
of murder for us to do such a thing.  I cannot see how you,
his most trusted lieutenant, can even give an instant's
consideration to the idea.

"And now that you insist that his mind is sorely affected,
it is only an added 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 upon the last word.

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

"Come to Singapore with me--it will take but a few
days--and then we can return with some good medical man
and a couple of Europeans, and take your father away
from the terrible creatures he has created.  You will
be mine then and safe from the awful fate that now lies
back there in the camp awaiting you.  We can take your
father upon a long trip where rest and quiet can have
an opportunity to restore his enfeebled mentality.
Come, Virginia!  Come with me now.  We can go directly
to the Ithaca and safety.  Say that you will come."

The girl shook her head.

"I do not love you, I am afraid, Doctor von Horn, or I
should certainly be moved by your appeal.  If you wish
to bring help for my father I shall never cease to
thank you if you will go to Singapore and fetch it, but
it is not necessary that I go.  My place is here, near him."

In the darkness the girl did not see the change that
came over the man's face, but his next words revealed
his altered attitude with sufficient exactitude 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 my love, but now I must risk offending you
that I may save you for myself from the monstrous connection
which your father contemplates for you.  If you will not come
away from the island with me voluntarily I consider it my duty
to take you away 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 devil didn't that villain,
Bududreen, come!  He should have been along
to act his part half an hour before.

"No, Virginia," said the man, softly, after a moment's
silence, "I could not do that; though my judgment tells
me that I should do it.  You shall remain here if you
insist and I will be with you to serve and protect both
you and your father."

The words were fair, but the girl could not forget the
ugly tone that had tinged his preceding statement.
She felt that she would be glad when she found herself
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 as they rushed out upon Bududreen and
his companions came to them distinctly through the
tropic night.

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

"God knows," replied von Horn.  "Can it be that
our men have mutinied?"

He thought the six with Bududreen were carrying out
their part in a most realistic 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
must you.  Our place is there--God give that we be not
too late," and before von Horn could stop her she
turned and ran through the darkness of the jungle in
the direction of the camp.

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

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

As she stood listening for some sound which might
indicate the whereabouts of the 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 nerve taut waiting the thing that
floundered heavily toward her.  She hoped it might be
von Horn, but the hideous war cries which had apprised
her of enemies at the encampment made her fear that fate
might be directing the footsteps of one of these upon her.

Nearer and nearer came the sound, and the girl stood
poised ready to fly when the dark face of Bududreen
suddenly emerged into the moonlight beside her.
With an 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 so quickly following the sore
affliction of losing the treasure.  His evil mind
worked quickly, so that he grasped the full
possibilities that were his before the 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 the ship.  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 I hastened on to discover what calamity
had befallen us--we became separated."

"He will be safe," said Bududreen, "for two of my men
are waiting to guide you and the doctor to the ship in
case you returned to camp before I found you.  Come,
we will hasten on to the harbor.  Your father will be
worried if we are long delayed, and he is anxious to
make sail and escape before the Dyaks discover the
location of the Ithaca."

The man's story seemed plausible enough to Virginia,
although she could not repress a little pang of regret
that her father had been willing to go on to the harbor
before he knew her fate.  However, she explained that
by her belief that his mind was unbalanced through
constant application to his weird obsession.

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

Once on board Virginia started immediately for her
father's cabin.  As she crossed the deck she noticed
that the ship was ready to sail, and even as she
descended the companionway she heard the rattle of the
anchor chain about the capstan.  She wondered if von
Horn could be on board too.  It seemed remarkable that
all should have reached the Ithaca so quickly, and
equally strange that none 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's hurried investigation disclosed the fact
that von Horn's was unoccupied as well.  Now her doubts
turned quickly to fears, and with a little gasp of
dismay at the grim possibilities which surged through
her imagination she ran quickly to the companionway,
but above her she saw that the hatch was down, and when
she reached the top that it was fastened.  Futilely she
beat upon the heavy planks with her delicate hands,
calling aloud to Bududreen to release her, but there
was no reply, and with the realization of the hopelessness
of her position she dropped back to the deck,
and returned to her stateroom.  Here she locked
and barricaded the door as best she could,
and throwing herself upon the berth 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 the fleeing lascar who had escaped the
parangs of Muda Saffir's head hunters at the same time
as had Bududreen.  So terror stricken was the fellow
that he had thrown away his weapons in the panic of flight,
which was all that saved von Horn from death at the hands
of the fear crazed man.  To him, in the extremity of his fright,
every man was an enemy, and the doctor had a tough scuffle
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 with the statement that he was the only person
in camp that escaped, all the others having been
cut down by the savage horde that overwhelmed them.
It was with difficulty 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 what moment they might come upon the savage
enemy that had wrought such havoc among their forces,
for von Horn believed the lascar's story that al