Later Kathlyn was standing under the cell window gazing at the yellow

sunset. Two hours had gone, and no sign of Umballa yet. She

shuddered. Had she been alone she would have hunted for something

sharp and deadly. But her father; not before him. She must wait. One

thing was positive and absolute: Umballa should never embrace her; she

was too strong and desperate.

"Kit!"

"Yes, father."

"I have a sharp piece of metal in my pocket. Could you . . . My God,

by my hand! . . . when he comes?"

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"Yes, father; I am not afraid to die, and death seems all that remains.

I should bless you. He will be a tiger now."

"My child, God was good to give me a daughter like you."

She turned to him this time and pressed him to her heart.

"It grows dark suddenly," he said.

Kathlyn glanced toward the window.

"Why, it's a baboon!" she exclaimed.

"Jock, Jock!" cried her father excitedly.

The baboon chattered.

"Kit, it's Jock I used to tell you about. He is tame and follows me

about like a dog. Jock, poor Jock!"

"Father, have you a pencil?"

"A pencil?" blankly.

"Yes, yes! I can write a note and attach it to Jock. It's a chance."

"Good lord! and you're cool enough to think like that." The colonel

went through his pockets feverishly. "Thank God, here's an old stub!

But paper?"

Kathlyn tore off a broad blade of grass from her dress and wrote

carefully upon it. If it fell into the hands of the natives they would

not understand, If the baboon returned to camp . . . It made her weak

to realize how slender the chance was. She took the tabouret and

placed it beneath the window and stood upon it.

"Jock, here, Jock!"

The baboon gave her his paws. Deftly she tied the blade of grass round

his neck. Then she struck her hands together violently. The baboon

vanished, frightened at this unexpected treatment.

"He is gone."

The colonel did not reply, but began to examine his chains minutely.

"Kit, there's no getting me out of here without files. If there is any

rescue you go and return. Promise."

"I promise."

Then they sat down to wait.

And Ahmed in his search came to the river. Some natives were swimming

and sporting in the water. Ahmed put a question. Oh, yes, they had

seen the strange-looking ape (for baboons did not habitate this part of

the world); he had gone up one of the trees near by. Colonel Hare had

always used a peculiar whistle to bring Jock, and Ahmed resorted to

this device. Half an hour's perseverance rewarded him; and then he

found the blade of grass.

"Dungeon window by tree. Kathlyn."

That was sufficient for Ahmed. He turned the baboon over to the care

of one of his subordinates and hurried away to Bruce's camp, only to

find that he had gone to the colonel's. Away went Ahmed again,

tireless. He found Bruce pacing the bungalow frontage.




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