Let us go back a few months to the little, windsweptplatform of a railway station in northern Wisconsin.The smoke of forest fires hangs low over the surroundinglandscape, its acrid fumes smarting the eyes of a littleparty of six who stand waiting the coming of the trainthat is to bear them away toward the south.

Professor Archimedes Q. Porter, his hands clasped beneath the tailsof his long coat, paces back and forth under the ever-watchfuleye of his faithful secretary, Mr. Samuel T. Philander.Twice within the past few minutes he has started absent-mindedlyacross the tracks in the direction of a near-by swamp, only tobe rescued and dragged back by the tireless Mr. Philander.

Jane Porter, the professor's daughter, is in strained andlifeless conversation with William Cecil Clayton and Tarzanof the Apes. Within the little waiting room, but a baremoment before, a confession of love and a renunciation hadtaken place that had blighted the lives and happiness of twoof the party, but William Cecil Clayton, Lord Greystoke, wasnot one of them.

Behind Miss Porter hovered the motherly Esmeralda. She, too,was happy, for was she not returning to her beloved Maryland?Already she could see dimly through the fog of smoke the murkyheadlight of the oncoming engine. The men began to gather upthe hand baggage. Suddenly Clayton exclaimed.

"By Jove! I've left my ulster in the waiting-room," andhastened off to fetch it.

"Good-bye, Jane," said Tarzan, extending his hand."God bless you!"

"Good-bye," replied the girl faintly. "Try to forget me--no,not that--I could not bear to think that you had forgotten me."

"There is no danger of that, dear," he answered. "I wishto Heaven that I might forget. It would be so much easierthan to go through life always remembering what might have been.You will be happy, though; I am sure you shall--you must be.You may tell the others of my decision to drive my car onto New York--I don't feel equal to bidding Clayton good-bye.I want always to remember him kindly, but I fear that I amtoo much of a wild beast yet to be trusted too long withthe man who stands between me and the one person in allthe world I want."

As Clayton stooped to pick up his coat in the waitingroom his eyes fell on a telegraph blank lying face downupon the floor. He stooped to pick it up, thinking itmight be a message of importance which some one had dropped.He glanced at it hastily, and then suddenly he forgot hiscoat, the approaching train--everything but that terriblelittle piece of yellow paper in his hand. He read it twicebefore he could fully grasp the terrific weight of meaningthat it bore to him.

When he had picked it up he had been an English nobleman,the proud and wealthy possessor of vast estates--a momentlater he had read it, and he knew that he was an untitledand penniless beggar. It was D'Arnot's cablegram toTarzan, and it read:

Finger prints prove you Greystoke. Congratulations.D'ARNOT.

He staggered as though he had received a mortal blow.Just then he heard the others calling to him to hurry--thetrain was coming to a stop at the little platform.Like a man dazed he gathered up his ulster. He would tellthem about the cablegram when they were all on board the train.Then he ran out upon the platform just as the engine whistledtwice in the final warning that precedes the first rumblingjerk of coupling pins. The others were on board, leaning outfrom the platform of a Pullman, crying to him to hurry.Quite five minutes elapsed before they were settled in theirseats, nor was it until then that Clayton discovered thatTarzan was not with them.

"Where is Tarzan?" he asked Jane Porter. "In another car?"

"No," she replied; "at the last minute he determined todrive his machine back to New York. He is anxious to seemore of America than is possible from a car window. He isreturning to France, you know."

Clayton did not reply. He was trying to find the right wordsto explain to Jane Porter the calamity that had befallen him--and her. He wondered just what the effect of his knowledgewould be on her. Would she still wish to marry him--to beplain Mrs. Clayton? Suddenly the awful sacrifice which oneof them must make loomed large before his imagination.Then came the question: Will Tarzan claim his own? The ape-manhad known the contents of the message before he calmly deniedknowledge of his parentage! He had admitted that Kala, the ape,was his mother! Could it have been for love of Jane Porter?

There was no other explanation which seemed reasonable.Then, having ignored the evidence of the message, was it notreasonable to assume that he meant never to claim his birthright?If this were so, what right had he, William Cecil Clayton, tothwart the wishes, to balk the self-sacrifice of thisstrange man? If Tarzan of the Apes could do this thing tosave Jane Porter from unhappiness, why should he, to whosecare she was intrusting her whole future, do aught tojeopardize her interests?

And so he reasoned until the first generous impulse toproclaim the truth and relinquish his titles and his estatesto their rightful owner was forgotten beneath the mass ofsophistries which self-interest had advanced. But during thebalance of the trip, and for many days thereafter, he wasmoody and distraught. Occasionally the thought obtrudeditself that possibly at some later day Tarzan would regrethis magnanimity, and claim his rights.

Several days after they reached Baltimore Claytonbroached the subject of an early marriage to Jane.

"What do you mean by early?" she asked.

"Within the next few days. I must return to England atonce--I want you to return with me, dear."

"I can't get ready so soon as that," replied Jane. "It willtake a whole month, at least."

She was glad, for she hoped that whatever called him toEngland might still further delay the wedding. She had madea bad bargain, but she intended carrying her part loyallyto the bitter end--if she could manage to secure a temporaryreprieve, though, she felt that she was warranted in doing so.His reply disconcerted her.

"Very well, Jane," he said. "I am disappointed, but I shall letmy trip to England wait a month; then we can go back together."

But when the month was drawing to a close she found stillanother excuse upon which to hang a postponement, until atlast, discouraged and doubting, Clayton was forced to goback to England alone.

The several letters that passed between them brought Claytonno nearer to a consummation of his hopes than he had beenbefore, and so it was that he wrote directly to ProfessorPorter, and enlisted his services. The old man had alwaysfavored the match. He liked Clayton, and, being of an oldsouthern family, he put rather an exaggerated value on theadvantages of a title, which meant little or nothing tohis daughter.

Clayton urged that the professor accept his invitation tobe his guest in London, an invitation which included theprofessor's entire little family--Mr. Philander, Esmeralda,and all. The Englishman argued that once Jane was there, andhome ties had been broken, she would not so dread the stepwhich she had so long hesitated to take.

So the evening that he received Clayton's letter Professor Porterannounced that they would leave for London the following week.

But once in London Jane Porter was no more tractable than shehad been in Baltimore. She found one excuse after another,and when, finally, Lord Tennington invited the party to cruisearound Africa in his yacht, she expressed the greatest delightin the idea, but absolutely refused to be married until theyhad returned to London. As the cruise was to consume a yearat least, for they were to stop for indefinite periods atvarious points of interest, Clayton mentally anathematizedTennington for ever suggesting such a ridiculous trip.

It was Lord Tennington's plan to cruise through theMediterranean, and the Red Sea to the Indian Ocean, andthus down the East Coast, putting in at every port thatwas worth the seeing.

And so it happened that on a certain day two vessels passedin the Strait of Gibraltar. The smaller, a trim whiteyacht, was speeding toward the east, and on her deck sat ayoung woman who gazed with sad eyes upon a diamondstuddedlocket which she idly fingered. Her thoughts were faraway, in the dim, leafy fastness of a tropical jungle--andher heart was with her thoughts.

She wondered if the man who had given her the beautifulbauble, that had meant so much more to him than theintrinsic value which he had not even known could everhave meant to him, was back in his savage forest.

And upon the deck of the larger vessel, a passenger steamerpassing toward the east, the man sat with another youngwoman, and the two idly speculated upon the identity of thedainty craft gliding so gracefully through the gentle swell ofthe lazy sea.

When the yacht had passed the man resumed the conversationthat her appearance had broken off.

"Yes," he said, "I like America very much, and that means,of course, that I like Americans, for a country is only whatits people make it. I met some very delightful people while Iwas there. I recall one family from your own city, MissStrong, whom I liked particularly--Professor Porter andhis daughter."

"Jane Porter!" exclaimed the girl. "Do you mean to tell methat you know Jane Porter? Why, she is the very best friendI have in the world. We were little children together--we haveknown each other for ages."

"Indeed!" he answered, smiling. "You would have difficultyin persuading any one of the fact who had seen either of you."

"I'll qualify the statement, then," she answered, with a laugh."We have known each other for two ages--hers and mine.But seriously we are as dear to each other as sisters,and now that I am going to lose her I am almost heartbroken."

"Going to lose her?" exclaimed Tarzan. "Why, what do you mean?Oh, yes, I understand. You mean that now that she is marriedand living in England, you will seldom if ever see her."

"Yes," replied she; "and the saddest part of it all is thatshe is not marrying the man she loves. Oh, it is terrible.Marrying from a sense of duty! I think it is perfectly wicked,and I told her so. I have felt so strongly on the subject thatalthough I was the only person outside of blood relationswho was to have been asked to the wedding I would not lether invite me, for I should not have gone to witness theterrible mockery. But Jane Porter is peculiarly positive.She has convinced herself that she is doing the only honorablething that she can do, and nothing in the world will everprevent her from marrying Lord Greystoke except Greystokehimself, or death."

"I am sorry for her," said Tarzan.

"And I am sorry for the man she loves," said the girl, "forhe loves her. I never met him, but from what Jane tells mehe must be a very wonderful person. It seems that he wasborn in an African jungle, and brought up by fierce,anthropoid apes. He had never seen a white man or womanuntil Professor Porter and his party were marooned on thecoast right at the threshold of his tiny cabin. He saved themfrom all manner of terrible beasts, and accomplished themost wonderful feats imaginable, and then to cap the climaxhe fell in love with Jane and she with him, though she neverreally knew it for sure until she had promised herself toLord Greystoke."

"Most remarkable," murmured Tarzan, cudgeling his brain forsome pretext upon which to turn the subject. He delightedin hearing Hazel Strong talk of Jane, but when he was thesubject of the conversation he was bored and embarrassed.But he was soon given a respite, for the girl's motherjoined them, and the talk became general.

The next few days passed uneventfully. The sea was quiet.The sky was clear. The steamer plowed steadily on toward thesouth without pause. Tarzan spent quite a little time withMiss Strong and her mother. They whiled away their hourson deck reading, talking, or taking pictures with MissStrong's camera. When the sun had set they walked.

One day Tarzan found Miss Strong in conversation with astranger, a man he had not seen on board before. As heapproached the couple the man bowed to the girl and turnedto walk away.

"Wait, Monsieur Thuran," said Miss Strong; "you must meetMr. Caldwell. We are all fellow passengers, and shouldbe acquainted."

The two men shook hands. As Tarzan looked into the eyesof Monsieur Thuran he was struck by the strange familiarityof their expression.

"I have had the honor of monsieur's acquaintance in thepast, I am sure," said Tarzan, "though I cannot recall thecircumstances."

Monsieur Thuran appeared ill at ease.

"I cannot say, monsieur," he replied. "It may be so. I havehad that identical sensation myself when meeting a stranger."

"Monsieur Thuran has been explaining some of the mysteriesof navigation to me," explained the girl.

Tarzan paid little heed to the conversation that ensued--hewas attempting to recall where he had met Monsieur Thuran before.That it had been under peculiar circumstances he was positive.Presently the sun reached them, and the girl asked MonsieurThuran to move her chair farther back into the shade.Tarzan happened to be watching the man at the time,and noticed the awkward manner in which he handledthe chair--his left wrist was stiff. That clew wassufficient--a sudden train of associated ideas did the rest.

Monsieur Thuran had been trying to find an excuse tomake a graceful departure. The lull in the conversationfollowing the moving of their position gave him an opportunityto make his excuses. Bowing low to Miss Strong, and inclininghis head to Tarzan, he turned to leave them.

"Just a moment," said Tarzan. "If Miss Strong will pardon meI will accompany you. I shall return in a moment, Miss Strong."

Monsieur Thuran looked uncomfortable. When the two men hadpassed out of the girl's sight, Tarzan stopped, laying aheavy hand on the other's shoulder.

"What is your game now, Rokoff?" he asked.

"I am leaving France as I promised you," replied the other,in a surly voice.

"I see you are," said Tarzan; "but I know you so wellthat I can scarcely believe that your being on the same boatwith me is purely a coincidence. If I could believe it thefact that you are in disguise would immediately disabusemy mind of any such idea."

"Well," growled Rokoff, with a shrug, "I cannot see what youare going to do about it. This vessel flies the English flag.I have as much right on board her as you, and from thefact that you are booked under an assumed name I imaginethat I have more right."

"We will not discuss it, Rokoff. All I wanted to say toyou is that you must keep away from Miss Strong--she is adecent woman."

Rokoff turned scarlet.

"If you don't I shall pitch you overboard," continued Tarzan."Do not forget that I am just waiting for some excuse."Then he turned on his heel, and left Rokoff standingthere trembling with suppressed rage.

He did not see the man again for days, but Rokoff wasnot idle. In his stateroom with Paulvitch he fumed andswore, threatening the most terrible of revenges.

"I would throw him overboard tonight," he cried, "were Isure that those papers were not on his person. I cannotchance pitching them into the ocean with him. If you werenot such a stupid coward, Alexis, you would find a way toenter his stateroom and search for the documents."

Paulvitch smiled. "You are supposed to be the brains of thispartnership, my dear Nikolas," he replied. "Why do you notfind the means to search Monsieur Caldwell's stateroom--eh?"

Two hours later fate was kind to them, for Paulvitch, whowas ever on the watch, saw Tarzan leave his room withoutlocking the door. Five minutes later Rokoff was stationedwhere he could give the alarm in case Tarzan returned, andPaulvitch was deftly searching the contents of the ape-man's luggage.

He was about to give up in despair when he saw a coatwhich Tarzan had just removed. A moment later he grasped anofficial envelope in his hand. A quick glance at its contentsbrought a broad smile to the Russian's face.

When he left the stateroom Tarzan himself could not havetold that an article in it had been touched since he leftit--Paulvitch was a past master in his chosen field.When he handed the packet to Rokoff in the seclusion oftheir stateroom the larger man rang for a steward, andordered a pint of champagne.

"We must celebrate, my dear Alexis," he said.

"It was luck, Nikolas," explained Paulvitch. "It is evidentthat he carries these papers always upon his person--justby chance he neglected to transfer them when he changedcoats a few minutes since. But there will be the deuce topay when he discovers his loss. I am afraid that he willimmediately connect you with it. Now that he knows thatyou are on board he will suspect you at once."

"It will make no difference whom he suspects--after to-night,"said Rokoff, with a nasty grin.

After Miss Strong had gone below that night Tarzan stoodleaning over the rail looking far out to sea. Every night hehad done this since he had come on board--sometimes hestood thus for an hour. And the eyes that had been watchinghis every movement since he had boarded the ship atAlgiers knew that this was his habit.

Even as he stood there this night those eyes were on him.Presently the last straggler had left the deck. It wasa clear night, but there was no moon--objects on deckwere barely discernible.

From the shadows of the cabin two figures crept stealthilyupon the ape-man from behind. The lapping of the wavesagainst the ship's sides, the whirring of the propeller,the throbbing of the engines, drowned the almost soundlessapproach of the two.

They were quite close to him now, and crouching low, liketacklers on a gridiron. One of them raised his hand andlowered it, as though counting off seconds--one--two--three!As one man the two leaped for their victim. Each grasped aleg, and before Tarzan of the Apes, lightning though he was,could turn to save himself he had been pitched over the lowrail and was falling into the Atlantic.

Hazel Strong was looking from her darkened port acrossthe dark sea. Suddenly a body shot past her eyes fromthe deck above. It dropped so quickly into the dark watersbelow that she could not be sure of what it was--it mighthave been a man, she could not say. She listened for someoutcry from above--for the always-fearsome call, "Man overboard!"but it did not come. All was silence on the ship above--allwas silence in the sea below.

The girl decided that she had but seen a bundle of refusethrown overboard by one of the ship's crew, and a momentlater sought her berth.