Several miles south of the cabin, upon a strip of sandybeach, stood two old men, arguing.

Before them stretched the broad Atlantic. At their backswas the Dark Continent. Close around them loomed theimpenetrable blackness of the jungle.

Savage beasts roared and growled; noises, hideous andweird, assailed their ears. They had wandered for miles insearch of their camp, but always in the wrong direction. Theywere as hopelessly lost as though they suddenly had beentransported to another world.

At such a time, indeed, every fiber of their combinedintellects must have been concentrated upon the vitalquestion of the minute--the life-and-death question tothem of retracing their steps to camp.

Samuel T. Philander was speaking.

"But, my dear professor," he was saying, "I still maintainthat but for the victories of Ferdinand and Isabella over thefifteenth-century Moors in Spain the world would be today athousand years in advance of where we now find ourselves.The Moors were essentially a tolerant, broad-minded, liberalrace of agriculturists, artisans and merchants--the very typeof people that has made possible such civilization as we findtoday in America and Europe--while the Spaniards--"

"Tut, tut, dear Mr. Philander," interrupted Professor Porter;"their religion positively precluded the possibilities yousuggest. Moslemism was, is, and always will be, a blight onthat scientific progress which has marked--"

"Bless me! Professor," interjected Mr. Philander, who hadturned his gaze toward the jungle, "there seems to be someoneapproaching."

Professor Archimedes Q. Porter turned in the directionindicated by the nearsighted Mr. Philander.

"Tut, tut, Mr. Philander," he chided. "How often must Iurge you to seek that absolute concentration of your mentalfaculties which alone may permit you to bring to bear thehighest powers of intellectuality upon the momentous problemswhich naturally fall to the lot of great minds? And nowI find you guilty of a most flagrant breach of courtesy ininterrupting my learned discourse to call attention to a merequadruped of the genus FELIS. As I was saying, Mr.--"

"Heavens, Professor, a lion?" cried Mr. Philander, straininghis weak eyes toward the dim figure outlined against thedark tropical underbrush.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Philander, if you insist upon employingslang in your discourse, a `lion.' But as I was saying--"

"Bless me, Professor," again interrupted Mr. Philander;"permit me to suggest that doubtless the Moors who wereconquered in the fifteenth century will continue in that mostregrettable condition for the time being at least, even thoughwe postpone discussion of that world calamity until we mayattain the enchanting view of yon FELIS CARNIVORA whichdistance proverbially is credited with lending."

In the meantime the lion had approached with quiet dignityto within ten paces of the two men, where he stood curiouslywatching them.

The moonlight flooded the beach, and the strange groupstood out in bold relief against the yellow sand.

"Most reprehensible, most reprehensible," exclaimed ProfessorPorter, with a faint trace of irritation in his voice."Never, Mr. Philander, never before in my life have I knownone of these animals to be permitted to roam at large fromits cage. I shall most certainly report this outrageous breachof ethics to the directors of the adjacent zoological garden."

"Quite right, Professor," agreed Mr. Philander, "and thesooner it is done the better. Let us start now."

Seizing the professor by the arm, Mr. Philander set off inthe direction that would put the greatest distance betweenthemselves and the lion.

They had proceeded but a short distance when a backwardglance revealed to the horrified gaze of Mr. Philander thatthe lion was following them. He tightened his grip upon theprotesting professor and increased his speed.

"As I was saying, Mr. Philander," repeated Professor Porter.

Mr. Philander took another hasty glance rearward. The lionalso had quickened his gait, and was doggedly maintaining anunvarying distance behind them.

"He is following us!" gasped Mr. Philander, breaking into a run.

"Tut, tut, Mr. Philander," remonstrated the professor, "thisunseemly haste is most unbecoming to men of letters. Whatwill our friends think of us, who may chance to be upon thestreet and witness our frivolous antics? Pray let us proceedwith more decorum."

Mr. Philander stole another observation astern.

The lion was bounding along in easy leaps scarce five paces behind.

Mr. Philander dropped the professor's arm, and broke intoa mad orgy of speed that would have done credit to anyvarsity track team.

"As I was saying, Mr. Philander--" screamed ProfessorPorter, as, metaphorically speaking, he himself "threw herinto high." He, too, had caught a fleeting backward glimpseof cruel yellow eyes and half open mouth within startlingproximity of his person.

With streaming coat tails and shiny silk hat ProfessorArchimedes Q. Porter fled through the moonlight close uponthe heels of Mr. Samuel T. Philander.

Before them a point of the jungle ran out toward a narrowpromontory, and it was for the heaven of the trees he sawthere that Mr. Samuel T. Philander directed his prodigiousleaps and bounds; while from the shadows of this same spotpeered two keen eyes in interested appreciation of the race.

It was Tarzan of the Apes who watched, with face a-grin,this odd game of follow-the-leader.

He knew the two men were safe enough from attack in sofar as the lion was concerned. The very fact that Numa hadforegone such easy prey at all convinced the wise forest craftof Tarzan that Numa's belly already was full.

The lion might stalk them until hungry again; but thechances were that if not angered he would soon tire of thesport, and slink away to his jungle lair.

Really, the one great danger was that one of the menmight stumble and fall, and then the yellow devil would beupon him in a moment and the joy of the kill would be toogreat a temptation to withstand.

So Tarzan swung quickly to a lower limb in line with theapproaching fugitives; and as Mr. Samuel T. Philander camepanting and blowing beneath him, already too spent to struggleup to the safety of the limb, Tarzan reached down and,grasping him by the collar of his coat, yanked him to thelimb by his side.

Another moment brought the professor within the sphereof the friendly grip, and he, too, was drawn upward to safetyjust as the baffled Numa, with a roar, leaped to recover hisvanishing quarry.

For a moment the two men clung panting to the greatbranch, while Tarzan squatted with his back to the stem ofthe tree, watching them with mingled curiosity and amusement.

It was the professor who first broke the silence.

"I am deeply pained, Mr. Philander, that you should haveevinced such a paucity of manly courage in the presence ofone of the lower orders, and by your crass timidity havecaused me to exert myself to such an unaccustomed degree inorder that I might resume my discourse. As I was saying, Mr.Philander, when you interrupted me, the Moors--"

"Professor Archimedes Q. Porter," broke in Mr. Philander,in icy tones, "the time has arrived when patience becomes acrime and mayhem appears garbed in the mantle of virtue.You have accused me of cowardice. You have insinuated thatyou ran only to overtake me, not to escape the clutches ofthe lion. Have a care, Professor Archimedes Q. Porter! I ama desperate man. Goaded by long-suffering patience theworm will turn."

"Tut, tut, Mr. Philander, tut, tut!" cautioned ProfessorPorter; "you forget yourself."

"I forget nothing as yet, Professor Archimedes Q. Porter; but,believe me, sir, I am tottering on the verge of forgetfulnessas to your exalted position in the world of science, andyour gray hairs."

The professor sat in silence for a few minutes, and thedarkness hid the grim smile that wreathed his wrinkledcountenance. Presently he spoke.

"Look here, Skinny Philander," he said, in belligerent tones,"if you are lookin' for a scrap, peel off your coat and comeon down on the ground, and I'll punch your head just as Idid sixty years ago in the alley back of Porky Evans' barn."

"Ark!" gasped the astonished Mr. Philander. "Lordy, howgood that sounds! When you're human, Ark, I love you; butsomehow it seems as though you had forgotten how to behuman for the last twenty years."

The professor reached out a thin, trembling old handthrough the darkness until it found his old friend's shoulder.

"Forgive me, Skinny," he said, softly. "It hasn't been quitetwenty years, and God alone knows how hard I have tried tobe `human' for Jane's sake, and yours, too, since He took myother Jane away."

Another old hand stole up from Mr. Philander's side toclasp the one that lay upon his shoulder, and no other messagecould better have translated the one heart to the other.

They did not speak for some minutes. The lion below thempaced nervously back and forth. The third figure in the treewas hidden by the dense shadows near the stem. He, too, wassilent--motionless as a graven image.

"You certainly pulled me up into this tree just in time,"said the professor at last. "I want to thank you. You savedmy life."

"But I didn't pull you up here, Professor," said Mr. Philander."Bless me! The excitement of the moment quite causedme to forget that I myself was drawn up here by some outsideagency--there must be someone or something in this treewith us."

"Eh?" ejaculated Professor Porter. "Are you quite positive,Mr. Philander?"

"Most positive, Professor," replied Mr. Philander, "and,"he added, "I think we should thank the party. He may besitting right next to you now, Professor."

"Eh? What's that? Tut, tut, Mr. Philander, tut, tut!" saidProfessor Porter, edging cautiously nearer to Mr. Philander.

Just then it occurred to Tarzan of the Apes that Numa hadloitered beneath the tree for a sufficient length of time, so heraised his young head toward the heavens, and there rang outupon the terrified ears of the two old men the awful warningchallenge of the anthropoid.

The two friends, huddled trembling in their precarious positionon the limb, saw the great lion halt in his restless pacing asthe blood-curdling cry smote his ears, and then slinkquickly into the jungle, to be instantly lost to view.

"Even the lion trembles in fear," whispered Mr. Philander.

"Most remarkable, most remarkable," murmured ProfessorPorter, clutching frantically at Mr. Philander to regain thebalance which the sudden fright had so perilously endangered.Unfortunately for them both, Mr. Philander's centerof equilibrium was at that very moment hanging upon theragged edge of nothing, so that it needed but the gentleimpetus supplied by the additional weight of Professor Porter'sbody to topple the devoted secretary from the limb.

For a moment they swayed uncertainly, and then, withmingled and most unscholarly shrieks, they pitched headlongfrom the tree, locked in frenzied embrace.

It was quite some moments ere either moved, for bothwere positive that any such attempt would reveal so manybreaks and fractures as to make further progress impossible.

At length Professor Porter made an attempt to move one leg.To his surprise, it responded to his will as in days goneby. He now drew up its mate and stretched it forth again.

"Most remarkable, most remarkable," he murmured.

"Thank God, Professor," whispered Mr. Philander, fervently,"you are not dead, then?"

"Tut, tut, Mr. Philander, tut, tut," cautioned ProfessorPorter, "I do not know with accuracy as yet."

With infinite solicitude Professor Porter wiggled his rightarm--joy! It was intact. Breathlessly he waved his left armabove his prostrate body--it waved!

"Most remarkable, most remarkable," he said.

"To whom are you signaling, Professor?" asked Mr. Philander,in an excited tone.

Professor Porter deigned to make no response to thispuerile inquiry. Instead he raised his head gently fromthe ground, nodding it back and forth a half dozen times.

"Most remarkable," he breathed. "It remains intact."

Mr. Philander had not moved from where he had fallen;he had not dared the attempt. How indeed could one movewhen one's arms and legs and back were broken?

One eye was buried in the soft loam; the other, rollingsidewise, was fixed in awe upon the strange gyrations ofProfessor Porter.

"How sad!" exclaimed Mr. Philander, half aloud. "Concussionof the brain, superinducing total mental aberration. Howvery sad indeed! and for one still so young!"

Professor Porter rolled over upon his stomach; gingerly hebowed his back until he resembled a huge tom cat in proximityto a yelping dog. Then he sat up and felt of various portionsof his anatomy.

"They are all here," he exclaimed. "Most remarkable!"

Whereupon he arose, and, bending a scathing glance uponthe still prostrate form of Mr. Samuel T. Philander, he said:

"Tut, tut, Mr. Philander; this is no time to indulge in slothfulease. We must be up and doing."

Mr. Philander lifted his other eye out of the mud andgazed in speechless rage at Professor Porter. Then heattempted to rise; nor could there have been any moresurprised than he when his efforts were immediately crownedwith marked success.

He was still bursting with rage, however, at the cruel injusticeof Professor Porter's insinuation, and was on the point ofrendering a tart rejoinder when his eyes fell upon a strangefigure standing a few paces away, scrutinizing them intently.

Professor Porter had recovered his shiny silk hat, which hehad brushed carefully upon the sleeve of his coat and replacedupon his head. When he saw Mr. Philander pointing to somethingbehind him he turned to behold a giant, naked but for a loincloth and a few metal ornaments, standing motionless before him.

"Good evening, sir!" said the professor, lifting his hat.

For reply the giant motioned them to follow him, and set offup the beach in the direction from which they had recently come.

"I think it the better part of discretion to follow him," saidMr. Philander.

"Tut, tut, Mr. Philander," returned the professor. "A shorttime since you were advancing a most logical argument insubstantiation of your theory that camp lay directly south of us.I was skeptical, but you finally convinced me; so now I ampositive that toward the south we must travel to reach ourfriends. Therefore I shall continue south."

"But, Professor Porter, this man may know better than eitherof us. He seems to be indigenous to this part of theworld. Let us at least follow him for a short distance."

"Tut, tut, Mr. Philander," repeated the professor. "I am adifficult man to convince, but when once convinced my decisionis unalterable. I shall continue in the proper direction, ifI have to circumambulate the continent of Africa to reachmy destination."

Further argument was interrupted by Tarzan, who, seeingthat these strange men were not following him, had returnedto their side.

Again he beckoned to them; but still they stood in argument.

Presently the ape-man lost patience with their stupid ignorance.He grasped the frightened Mr. Philander by the shoulder, andbefore that worthy gentleman knew whether he was beingkilled or merely maimed for life, Tarzan had tied oneend of his rope securely about Mr. Philander's neck.

"Tut, tut, Mr. Philander," remonstrated Professor Porter;"it is most unbeseeming in you to submit to such indignities."

But scarcely were the words out of his mouth ere he, too,had been seized and securely bound by the neck with thesame rope. Then Tarzan set off toward the north, leading thenow thoroughly frightened professor and his secretary.

In deathly silence they proceeded for what seemed hours tothe two tired and hopeless old men; but presently as theytopped a little rise of ground they were overjoyed to see thecabin lying before them, not a hundred yards distant.

Here Tarzan released them, and, pointing toward the littlebuilding, vanished into the jungle beside them.

"Most remarkable, most remarkable!" gasped the professor."But you see, Mr. Philander, that I was quite right, asusual; and but for your stubborn willfulness we should haveescaped a series of most humiliating, not to say dangerousaccidents. Pray allow yourself to be guided by a more matureand practical mind hereafter when in need of wise counsel."

Mr. Samuel T. Philander was too much relieved at thehappy outcome to their adventure to take umbrage at theprofessor's cruel fling. Instead he grasped his friend'sarm and hastened him forward in the direction of the cabin.

It was a much-relieved party of castaways that found itselfonce more united. Dawn discovered them still recountingtheir various adventures and speculating upon the identity ofthe strange guardian and protector they had found on thissavage shore.

Esmeralda was positive that it was none other than anangel of the Lord, sent down especially to watch over them.

"Had you seen him devour the raw meat of the lion,Esmeralda," laughed Clayton, "you would have thoughthim a very material angel."

"There was nothing heavenly about his voice," said JanePorter, with a little shudder at recollection of the awful roarwhich had followed the killing of the lioness.

"Nor did it precisely comport with my preconceived ideasof the dignity of divine messengers," remarked ProfessorPorter, "when the--ah--gentleman tied two highly respectableand erudite scholars neck to neck and dragged them throughthe jungle as though they had been cows."