was entirely indifferent to them.

"You're pretty badly hurt, old man," said Theriere. "Do

you feel able to make the attempt to get to the jungle? The

Japs will be back in a moment."

"Sure!" cried Billy Byrne. "Come ahead," and he sprang

for the window. "Pass de kid up to me. Quick! Dey're comin'

from in back."

Theriere lifted Barbara Harding to the mucker who drew

her through the opening. Then Billy extended a hand to the

Frenchman, and a moment later the three stood together

outside the hut.

A dozen samurai were running toward them from around

the end of the "Palace." The jungle lay a hundred yards

across the clearing. There was no time to be lost.

"You go first with Miss Harding," cried Theriere. "I'll cover

our retreat with my revolver, following close behind you."

The mucker caught the girl in his arms, throwing her across

his shoulder. The blood from his wounds smeared her hands

and clothing.

"Hang tight, kiddo," he cried, and started at a brisk trot

toward the forest.

Theriere kept close behind the two, reserving his fire until it

could be effectively delivered. With savage yells the samurai

leaped after their escaping quarry. The natives all carried the

long, sharp spears of the aboriginal head-hunters. Their swords

swung in their harness, and their ancient armor clanked as

they ran.

It was a strange, weird picture that the oddly contrasted

party presented as they raced across the clearing of this

forgotten isle toward a jungle as primitive as when "the

evening and the morning were the third day." An American

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