The Spaniard laughed. “I am entirely recovered,” he said, “and I am in no more danger alone than I would be with you,” which he knew, even better than they, was but a mild statement of the facts. “You will obey my wishes,” he continued sternly. “Go back at once the way that we have come. After you have gone at least two miles you may make camp for the night, and in the morning start out again for home. Make no noise, I do not want them to know that I am here. Do not worry about me. I am all right, and I shall probably overtake you before you reach home. Go!”
Sorrowfully the Waziri turned back upon the trail they had just covered and a moment later the last of them disappeared from the sight of the Spaniard.
With a sigh of relief Esteban Miranda turned toward the camp of his own people. Fearing that to surprise them suddenly might invite a volley of shots from the askari he whistled, and then called aloud as he approached.
“It is Tarzan!” cried the first of the blacks who saw him. “Now indeed shall we all be killed.”
Esteban saw the growing excitement among the carriers and askari—he saw the latter seize their rifles and that they were fingering the triggers nervously.
“It is I, Esteban Miranda,” he called aloud. “Flora! Flora, tell those fools to lay aside their rifles.”
The whites, too, were standing watching him, and at the sound of his voice Flora turned toward the blacks. “It is all right,” she said, “that is not Tarzan. Lay aside your rifles.”
Esteban entered the camp, smiling. “Here I am,” he said.
“We thought that you were dead,” said Kraski. “Some of these fellows said that Tarzan said that he had killed you.”
“He captured me,” said Esteban, “but as you see he did not kill me. I thought that he was going to, but he did not, and finally he turned me loose in the jungle. He may have thought that I could not survive and that he would accomplish his end just as surely without having my blood upon his hands.”
“ ’E must have knowed you,” said Peebles. “You’d die, all right, if you were left alone very long in the jungle—you’d starve to death.”
Esteban made no reply to the sally but turned toward Flora. “Are you not glad to see me, Flora?” he asked.
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “What is the difference?” she asked. “Our expedition is a failure. Some of them think you were largely to blame.” She nodded her head in the general direction of the other whites.
The Spaniard scowled. None of them cared very much to see him. He did not care about the others, but he had hoped that Flora would show some enthusiasm about his return. Well, if she had known what he had in his mind, she might have been happier to see him, and only too glad to show some kind of affection. But she did not know. She did not know that Esteban Miranda had hidden the golden ingots where he might go another day and get them. It had been his intention to persuade her to desert the others, and then, later, the two would return and recover the treasure, but now he was piqued and offended—none of them should have a shilling of it—he would wait until they left Africa and then he would return and take it all for himself. The only fly in the ointment was the thought that the Waziri knew the location of the treasure, and that, sooner or later, they would return with Tarzan and get it. This weak spot in his calculations must be strengthened, and to strengthen it he must have assistance which would mean sharing his secret with another, but whom?
Outwardly oblivious of the sullen glances of his companions he took his place among them. It was evident to him that they were far from being glad to see him, but just why he did not know, for he had not heard of the plan that Kraski and Owaza had hatched to steal the loot of the ivory raiders, and that their main objection to his presence was the fear that they would be compelled to share the loot with him. It was Kraski who first voiced the thought that was in the minds of all but Esteban.
“Miranda,” he said, “it is the consensus of opinion that you and Bluber are largely responsible for the failure of our venture. We are not finding fault. I just mention it as a fact. But since you have been away we have struck upon a plan to take something out of Africa that will partially recompense us for the loss of the gold. We have worked the thing all out carefully and made our plans. We don’t need you to carry them out. We have no objection to your coming along with us, if you want to, for company, but we want to have it understood from the beginning that you are not to share in anything that we get out of this.”
The Spaniard smiled and waved a gesture of unconcern. “It is perfectly all right,” he said. “I shall ask for nothing. I would not wish to take anything from any of you.” And he grinned inwardly as he thought of the more than quarter of a million pounds in gold which he would
