 Ah, then of the eighth brought to you from out the pages of at your life both amazing Let me professor There seems to be someone a truly touch the lander. How often must I tell you that? But I think I am a lot of lander. I now find you guilty of a Preach of courtesy in Interrupting me to call attention to a mere part of it of the genius I shall move Oh You must war Tarzan as he sits on a low-hanging branch watching the hut It's the role of a keen beast as he approaches On a belly hugging the ground before the stealing muscles for telemetry of a force upon a selfless place Tarzan through to his feet. He leans forward Press the tough stem of a trailing vine His knees then as he pulls the vine toward him his feet seem to grip the rough bark of the branch His strong hands work their way down the vine He crosses like a sprinter at the mark and with one branch across the clearing gages his distance He takes it Puts himself out into space in a wide swinging arc. He crosses the clearing. He lets go He flies through the air 10 20 feet with arms weak up. He catches another branch hang on Drops again down down down This girl back like your legs saying bear Will be second he sees for the calendar great with terror they stagger toward a tree for the trip He throws out his arm to get his balance before Tarzan with grace and skill beyond the dreams of any wire walker runs out the branch It's only a few feet from the ground. He bends down drop Catches the branch with his left hand his right hand shoots out. He drifts forward by the arm pulls him out the ground Rears are almost flat against her head the greenish yellow-eyed green viciously Tarzan looks forward to the branch satisfied that the professor is hanging on. He bleeds it for the lander The lander touches desperately at the branch. He touches it The land is within inches of Tarzan's foot. The eight man feels a hot, pungent breath. The brim's mouth is open Wrathless tongue pressed hard against gleaming teeth. He smiles numerous jaws closed with a vicious snap The coarse blitzling hairs on top of the beast's head brush Tarzan's feet. Tarzan brought his knees up in a level with his chin Swings himself to safety Back in Tarzan's hut, Jane's daughter and Clayton's are trying to make their jungle home as comfortable as possible Take a look at this, Jay. Oh, that's fine. Now I can use the cupboard for our dishes. If tin mugs can be classed as dishes Well, it isn't much to look at, but it's the first shelf I ever made and I'm quite proud of it. At least it won't come down. You know, we are badly in need of something to sweep with. Do you think you could make a long hand this room? Why, yes, yes, I think so. Let me see it. I can tie a bunch of these tethered leaves to a reed to do a straight run Oh, that would be perfect. I can put up with almost anything but these enormous spider webs on the seams and in the corners You know, Cecil, I've been thinking about that morning we found on the door So have I. Tarzan of the Apes. Who on earth can you do? And why haven't we seen him? Well, Mr. That, I had no more idea than you have. But what I can't understand is how anyone could live in this hut and not bury the skeletons we found here It is very strange. I can make nothing of it. That note, find Tarzan of the Apes is the most mysterious thing. By the way, if you have no objection, I would much rather make the petition for your room out of sale clause. Oh, I have no objection. In fact, I feel that I am getting altogether too much consideration having a room all to myself. But that's just it. If I put this furrow cloth on some sort of a roller, we can put it down at night, then in the daytime we'll still have the same amount of room. Well, I think that's a clever idea. Tell me, have you ever been shipwrecked before? No, no, no, but I'll let you in on a secret. For the first timours of my life, my sole ambition was to join Robinson Crusoe on his desert island. Well, well, this isn't getting on with the work. There goes our last link with civilization. I don't know whether to be glad that those mutiners are gone, or to be sorry to see the loss of the ship. Well, of course, as long as they were here, our lives were in constant danger. But I suppose we all felt that the ship represented some sort of contact with the outside world. And the treasure. I wonder if they found that. That depends on whether or not Captain Tracy found the man. I suppose young children. I know, but I feel responsible. If I hadn't thrown that map overboard... He would all have been killed. And for all we know, Tracy may be right here in the jungle. The jungle. Oh, I do hope Father and Mrs. Melinda don't wander too far away. You know, they're as helpless and thoughtless as two children. Oh, I think they'll even look after themselves. And now, James, where do you want me to put the clothes, right? You know, if the White Ants ever get into them, well, it's goodbye clothes. Well, there's really not much choice. I think over here by the bunk, if you could explain to me, don't you? Then over here by the bunk, it is. I'm going to use the clothes hook. I have that all figured out. Whoever the previous occupants of the hut worked, they had a good supply of carpenter tools. While this floor is a bit rusty, before this branch I've selected, and I think when I finish, yes, yes, I'm quite sure I'll have a perfectly good clothes rack. Now, work. Well, you know, Robert could do some ideas. I'm certainly standing off the good stairs. I could do a much better job if I had the neatest nails. Have you used the ones from the packing case? Yes, yes, I have. But after pulling them out and trying to fix them on a rough stone, they didn't do anything. Well, I think you're doing wonders. Well, I'm not much of a carpenter, but... I guess they're good. Cool. My, that's well worth it. Yes, yes, what is it? Look here. What? Up on this shelf. What? What? So, a way up here in this corner. What eye did I never see before? Boat? What fortune book? Well, they're so dusty. But this one looks rather like a diary. Guess what? Look. John Clayton. Lambie. Your uncle, Lord Grey Stokes. Yes. But how do you come to these things being here in this savage African jungle? Well, there's only one explanation. Instead of being lost at sea, as we have believed he was, Grey Stokes died here. I wonder what happened to the famous Grey Stokes Locket. What Locket? A diamond-studded locket that has been in the family for generations. It was always presented to the bride of a Grey Stokes at her wedding ceremony. I'm sorry, Stokes. I'm awfully sorry. There seems to be nothing here but the book. Yes, yes, of course, of course. The locket would have been with Lady Grey Stokes. She was called the beautiful Lady Alice, wasn't she? Yes. I've seen the portrait you know in the gallery as a manor. Well, this explains a lot of things and leaves a lot of other things unexplained. Why? What do you mean? I mean, this diary proves conclusively that they were not drowned. What happened to the crew of the festival? How did Lord and Lady Grey Stokes come to this place? Were Lord and Lady Grey Stokes the sole survivors? Or is history repeating itself as it so often does? A very cruel mutiny and put them ashore. Perhaps the diary will tell us. Oh, well. I'd rather think the famous locket has been worn for the last time by the bride of a Grey Stokes. I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Your arm is cleanser. Quick, give me that ring. Take me out of your house and bar the door out of me!