Wayne Colt was sitting in the shade of one of the shelters, and the blacks were lolling in front of another, a short distance away, as Zveri and Ivitch came into sight.
Colt rose and came forward, and it was then that Zveri spied him. 'You damned traitor!' he cried. 'I'll get you if it's the last thing I do on earth,' and as he spoke he drew his revolver and fired point blank at the unarmed American.
His first shot grazed Colt's side without breaking the skin, but Zveri fired no second shot, for almost simultaneously with the report of his own shot another rang out behind him, and Peter Zveri, dropping his pistol and clutching at his back, staggered drunkenly upon his feet.
Ivitch wheeled about. 'My God, Zora, what have you done?' he cried.
'What I have been waiting to do for twelve years,' replied the girl. 'What I have been waiting to do ever since I was little more than a child.'
Wayne Colt had run forward and seized Zveri's gun from the ground where it had fallen, and Romero and Mori now came up at a run.
Zveri had sunk to the ground and was glaring savagely about him. 'Who shot me?' he screamed. 'I know. It was that damned greaser.'
'It was I,' said Zora Drinov.
'You!' gasped Zveri.
Suddenly she turned to Wayne Colt as though only he mattered. 'You might as well know the truth,' she said. 'I am not a Red and never have been. This man killed my father, and my mother, and an older brother and sister. My father was-well, never mind who he was. He is avenged now.' She turned fiercely upon Zveri. 'I could have killed you a dozen times in the last few years,' she said, 'but I waited because I wanted more than your life. I wanted to help kill the hideous schemes with which you and your kind are seeking to wreck the happiness of the world.'
Peter Zveri sat on the ground, staring at her, his wide eyes slowly glazing. Suddenly he coughed and a torrent of blood gushed from his mouth. Then he sank back dead.
Romero had moved close to Ivitch. Suddenly he poked the muzzle of a revolver into the Russian's ribs. 'Drop your gun,' he said. 'I'm taking no chances on you either.'
Ivitch, paling, did as he was bid. He saw his little world tottering, and he was afraid.
Across the clearing a figure stood at the edge of the jungle. It had not been there an instant before. It had appeared silently as though out of thin air. Zora Drinov was the first to perceive it. She voiced a cry of surprised recognition; and as the others turned to follow the direction of her eyes, they saw a bronzed white man, naked but for a loin cloth of leopard skin, coming toward them. He moved with the easy, majestic grace of a lion and there was much about him that suggested the king of beasts.
'Who is that?' asked Colt.
'I do not know who he is,' replied Zora, 'other than that he is the man who saved my life when I was lost in the jungle.'
The man halted before them.
'Who are you?' demanded Wayne Colt.
'I am Tarzan of the Apes,' replied the other. 'I have seen and heard all that has occurred here. The plan that was fostered by this man,' he nodded at the body of Zveri, 'has failed and he is dead. This girl has avowed herself. She is not one of you. My people are camped a short distance away. I shall take her to them and see that she reaches civilization in safety. For the rest of you I have no sympathy. You may get out of the jungle as best you may. I have spoken.'
'They are not all what you think them, my friend,' said Zora.
'What do you mean?' demanded Tarzan.
'Romero and Mori have learned their lesson. They avowed themselves openly during a quarrel when our blacks deserted us.'
'I heard them,' said Tarzan.
She looked at him in surprise. 'You heard them?' she asked.
'I have heard much that has gone on in many of your camps,' replied the ape-man, 'but I do not know that I may believe all that I hear.'
'I think you may believe what you heard them say,' Zora assured him. 'I am confident that they are sincere.'
'Very well,' said Tarzan. 'If they wish they may come with me also, but these other two will have to shift for themselves.'
'Not the American,' said Zora.
'No? And why not?' demanded the ape-man.
'Because he is a special agent in the employ of the United States Government,' replied the girl.
The entire party, including Colt, looked at her in astonishment. 'How did you learn that?' demanded Colt.
'The message that you sent when you first came to camp and we were here alone was intercepted by one of Zveri's agents. Now do you understand how I know?'
'Yes,' said Colt. 'It is quite plain.'
'That is why Zveri called you a traitor and tried to kill you.'
'And how about this other?' demanded Tarzan, indicating Ivitch. 'Is he, also, a sheep in wolf's clothing?'
'He is one of those paradoxes who are so numerous,' replied Zora. 'He is one of those Reds who is all yellow.'
Tarzan turned to the blacks who had come forward and were standing, listening questioningly to a conversation they could not understand. 'I know your country,' he said to them in their own dialect. 'It lies near the end of the railroad that runs to the Coast.'
'Yes, master,' said one of the blacks.
'You will take this white man with you as far as the railroad. See that he has enough to eat and is not harmed, and then tell him to get out of the country. Start now.' Then he turned back to the whites. 'The rest of you will follow me to my camp.' And with that he turned and swung away toward the trail by which he had entered the camp. Behind him followed the four who owed to his humanity more than they could ever know, nor had they known could have guessed that his great tolerance, courage, resourcefulness and the protective instinct that had often safeguarded them sprang not from his human progenitors, but from his lifelong association with the natural beasts of the forest and the jungle, who have these instinctive qualities far more strongly developed than do the unnatural beasts of civilization, in whom the greed and lust of competition have dimmed the luster of these noble qualities where they have not eradicated them entirely.
Behind the others walked Zora Drinov and Wayne Colt, side by side.
'I thought you were dead,' she said.
'And I thought that you were dead,' he replied.
'And worse than that,' she continued, 'I thought that, whether dead or alive, I might never tell you what was in my heart.'
'And I thought that a hideous gulf separated us that I could never span to ask you the question that I wanted to ask you,' he answered in a low tone.
She turned toward him, her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling. 'And I thought that, alive or dead, I could never say yes to that question, if you did ask me,' she replied.
A curve in the trait hid them from the sight of the others as he took her in his arms and drew her lips to his.
