reached her. The girl's father had not spoken since
they discovered that she was missing from the campong,
but his face was white and drawn; his eyes wide and
glassy as those of one whose mind is on the verge of
madness from a great nervous shock.

The trail of the creature was bewilderingly erratic.
A dozen paces straight through the underbrush, then a
sharp turn at right angles for no apparent reason, only
to veer again suddenly in a new direction! Thus,
turning and twisting, the tortuous way led them toward
the south end of the island, until Sing, who was in
advance, gave a sharp cry of surprise.

"Klick! Look see!" he cried excitedly. "Blig blute dead--
vely muchee dead."

Von Horn rushed forward to where the Chinaman was
leaning over the body of Number One. Sure enough,
the great brute lay motionless, its horrid face even more
hideous in death than in life, if it were possible.
The face was black, the tongue protruded, the skin was
bruised from the heavy fists of his assailant and the
thick skull crushed and splintered from terrific impact
with the tree.

Professor Maxon leaned over von Horn's shoulder.
"Ah, poor Number One," he sighed, "that you should have come
to such an untimely end--my child, my child."