ice, followed by the
sounds of a scuffle. Baynes went white with horror. He struggled
frantically again with his bonds. They were giving. A moment later
one hand was free. It was but the work of an instant then to loose the
other. Stooping, he untied the rope from his ankles, then he
straightened and started for the hut doorway bent on reaching Meriem's
side. As he stepped out into the night the figure of a huge black rose
and barred his progress.

When speed was required of him Korak depended upon no other muscles
than his own, and so it was that the moment Tantor had landed him
safely upon the same side of the river as lay the village of The Sheik,
the ape-man deserted his bulky comrade and took to the trees in a rapid
race toward the south and the spot where the Swede had told him Meriem
might be. It was dark when he came to the palisade, strengthened
considerably since the day that he had rescued Meriem from her pitiful
life within its cruel confines. No longer did the giant tree spread
its branches above the wooden rampart; but ordinary man-made defenses
were scarce considered obstacles by Korak. Loosening the rope at his
waist he tossed the noose over one of the sharpened posts that composed
the palisade. A moment later his eyes were above the level of the
obstacle taking in all within their range beyond. There was no one in
sight close by, and Korak drew himself to the top and dropped lightly
to the ground within the enclosure.

Then he commenced his stealthy search of the village. First toward the
Arab tents he made his way, sniffing and listening. He passed behind
them searching for some sign of Meriem. Not even the wild Arab curs
heard his passage, so silently he went--a shadow passing through
shadows. The odor of tobacco told him that the Arabs were smoking
before their tents. The sound of laughter fell upon his ears, and then
from the opposite side of the village came the notes of a once familiar
tune: God Save the King. Korak halted in perplexity. Who might it
be--the tones were those of a man. He recalled the young Englishman he
had left on the river trail and who had disappeared before he returned.
A moment later there came to him a woman's voice in reply--it was
Meriem's, and The Killer, quickened into action, slunk rapidly in the
direction of these two voices.

The evening meal over Meriem had gone to her pallet in the women's
quarters of The Sheik's tent, a little corner screen