fragile was she, to gather her up in those great, brute
arms and carry her deep into the jungle far out of
hearing of the bull-whip man and the cold, frowning one
who was continually measuring and weighing Number One
and his companions, the while he scrutinized them with
those strange, glittering eyes that frightened one even
more than the cruel lash of the bull whip.

Number One lurched forward, his arms outstretched
toward the horror stricken girl. Virginia tried to cry
out again--she tried to turn and run; but the horror of
her impending fate and the terror that those awful
features induced left her paralyzed and helpless.

The thing was almost upon her now. The mouth was wide
in a hideous attempt to smile. The great hands would
grasp her in another second--and then there was a
sudden crashing of the underbrush behind her, a yellow,
wrinkled face and a flying pig-tail shot past her, and
the brave old Sing Lee grappled with the mighty monster
that threatened her.

The battle was short--short and terrible. The valiant
Chinaman sought the ashen throat of his antagonist, but
his wiry, sinewy muscles were as reeds beneath the
force of that inhuman power that opposed them. Holding
the girl at arm's length in one hand, Number One tore
the battling Chinaman from him with the other, and
lifting him bodily above his head, hurled him stunned
and bleeding against the bole of a giant buttress tree.