with a great, wonderful love and worship for something
infinitely finer than man's dull senses can gauge--
something that guides him into paths far above the plain
of soulless beasts and bestial men.

"Let those who will say that I have no soul, for I am
satisfied with the soul I have found. It would never
permit me to inflict on others the terrible wrong that
Professor Maxon has inflicted on me--yet he never
doubts his own possession of a soul. It would not
allow me to revel in the coarse brutalities of von
Horn--and I am sure that von Horn thinks he has a soul.
And if the savage men who came tonight to kill have
souls, then I am glad that my soul is after my own
choosing--I would not care for one like theirs."

The sudden equatorial dawn found the man still musing.
The storm had ceased and as the daylight brought the
surroundings to view Number Thirteen became aware that
he was not alone in the campong. All about him lay the
eleven terrible men whom he had driven from the bungalow
the previous night. The sight of them brought a
realization of new responsibilities. To leave them
here in the campong would mean the immediate death of
Professor Maxon and the Chinaman. To turn them into
the jungle might mean a similar fate for Virginia Maxon
were she wandering about in search of the encampment--
Number Thirteen could not believe that she was dead.
It seemed too monstrous to believe that he should never
see her again, and he knew so little of death that it