ssness which awakened for an instant the latent decency of this
degraded man. In that one act he retrieved himself, and when he is
called to face his Maker may it outweigh in the balance, all the sins
he has committed."

And Jane Clayton breathed a fervent, "Amen!"

Months had passed. The labor of the Waziri and the gold of Opar had
rebuilt and refurnished the wasted homestead of the Greystokes. Once
more the simple life of the great African farm went on as it had before
the coming of the Belgian and the Arab. Forgotten were the sorrows and
dangers of yesterday.

For the first time in months Lord Greystoke felt that he might indulge
in a holiday, and so a great hunt was organized that the faithful
laborers might feast in celebration of the completion of their work.

In itself the hunt was a success, and ten days after its inauguration,
a well-laden safari took up its return march toward the Waziri plain.
Lord and Lady Greystoke with Basuli and Mugambi rode together at the
head of the column, laughing and talking together in that easy
familiarity which common interests and mutual respect breed between
honest and intelligent men of any races.

Jane Clayton's horse shied suddenly at an object half hidden in the
long grasses of an open space in the jungle. Tarzan's keen eyes sought
quickly for an explanation of the animal's action.

"What have we here?" he cried, swinging from his saddle, and a moment
later the four were grouped about a human skull and a little litter of
whitened human bones.

Tarzan stooped and lifted a leathern pouch from the grisly relics of a
man. The hard outlines of the contents brought an exclamation of
surprise to his lips.

"The jewels of Opar!" he cried, holding the pouch aloft, "and,"
pointing to the bones at his feet, "all that remains of Werper, the
Belgian."

Mugambi laughed. "Look within, Bwana," he cried, "and you will see
what are the jewels of Opar--you will see what the Belgian gave his
life for," and the black laughed aloud.

"Why do you laugh?" asked Tarzan.

"Because," replied Mugambi, "I filled the Belgian's pouch with river
gravel before I escaped the camp of the Abyssinians whose prisoners we
were. I left the Belgian only worthless stones, while I brought away
with me the jewels he had stolen from you. That they were afterward
stolen from me while I slept in the jungle is my shame and my disgrace;
but at least the Belgian lost them--open his pouch and you will