man's rule. He had friends,
too--friends he could not afford to lose--friends who could not afford
to lose him.

Doubtless his murder would be avenged in due course; but--He grimaced
wrily to himself in the darkness, and tried once more to ease his
cramped limbs.

From outside came the murmur of voices. He could just see the shoulder
of one of his guards at the entrance and the steel glint of a
rifle-barrel. He gazed at the latter hungrily. Oh, for just a sporting
chance--to be free even in the midst of his enemies with that in his
hand!

A shadow fell across the entrance, and he saw the rifle no more. He saw
the two Wari sentinels salaaming profoundly, and he began to wonder who
the newcomer might be--a personage of some importance apparently.

There followed an interval of some minutes, during which Phil began to
chafe with feverish impatience. Then at last the shadow became
substance, moving into his line of vision, and a man, wrapped in a long,
native garment and wearing a _chuddah_ that concealed the greater part
of his face, glided into the hut on noiseless, sandalled feet.

He held a naked knife in his hand, and Phil's heart began to thud
unpleasantly. It taxed all a man's self-control to face death in cold
blood, trussed hand and foot and helpless as an infant. But he gripped
himself hard, and faced the weapon without flinching. It would not do to
let these murderous ruffians see a white man afraid.

"Hullo!" he said contemptuously. "Come to put the finishing touch, I
suppose? You'll hang for it, you infernal, treacherous brute; but that's
a detail you border thieves don't seem to mind."

It eased the tension to hurl verbal defiance at his murderer, and there
was just the chance that the fellow might understand a little English.
But when his visitor stooped over him and deliberately cut his bonds, he
was astounded into silence.

He waited dumfounded, and a muscular hand gripped his shoulder, holding
him motionless.

"You'll be all right," a quiet voice said, "if you don't make a
confounded fool of yourself."

Phil gave a great start, and the hand that gripped him tightened.
Through the gloom he made out the outline of a grim, bearded face.

"Control yourself!" the quiet voice ordered. "Do you think I've done
this for nothing? We are alone--it may be for five minutes, it may be
for less. Get out of your things--sharp, and let me have them."

"Great Jupiter--Tudor!" gasped Phil.

"Yes--Tudor!" ca