Achmet Zek! Werper's eyes went wide, and his heart sank.He was in the clutches of the most notorious of cut-throats--a hater of all Europeans, especially those who wore the uniform of Belgium.For years the military forces of Belgian Congo had waged a fruitless war upon this man and his followers--a war in which quarter had never been asked nor expected by either side.
But presently in the very hatred of the man for Belgians, Werper saw a faint ray of hope for himself.
He, too, was an outcast and an outlaw.So far, at least, they possessed a common interest, and Werper decided to play upon it for all that it might yield.
"I have heard of you," he replied, "and was searching for you.My people have turned against me.I hate them.Even now their soldiers are searching for me, to kill me.I knew that you would protect me from them, for you, too, hate them.In return I will take service with you.I am a trained soldier.I can fight, and your enemies are my enemies."
Achmet Zek eyed the European in silence.In his mind he revolved many thoughts, chief among which was that the unbeliever lied.Of course there was the chance that he did not lie, and if he told the truth then his proposition was one well worthy of consideration, since fighting men were never over plentiful--especially white men with the training and knowledge of military matters that a European officer must possess.
Achmet Zek scowled and Werper's heart sank; but Werper did not know Achmet Zek, who was quite apt to scowl where another would smile, and smile where another would scowl.
"And if you have lied to me," said Achmet Zek, "I will kill you at any time.What return, other than your life, do you expect for your services?"
"My keep only, at first," replied Werper."Later, if I
am worth more, we can easily reach an understanding."
Werper's only desire at the moment was to preserve his life.And so the agreement was reached and Lieutenant Albert Werper became a member of the ivory and slave raiding band of the notorious Achmet Zek.
For months the renegade Belgian rode with the savage raider.He fought with a savage abandon, and a vicious cruelty fully equal to that of his fellow desperadoes.
Achmet Zek watched his recruit with eagle eye, and with a growing satisfaction which finally found expression in a greater confidence in the man, and resulted in an increased independence of action for Werper.
Achmet Zek took the Belgian into his confidence to a great extent, and at last unfolded to him a pet scheme which the Arab had long fostered, but which he never had found an opportunity to effect.With the aid of a European, however, the thing might be easily accomplished.He sounded Werper.
"You have heard of the man men call Tarzan?" he asked.
Werper nodded."I have heard of him; but I do not know him."
"But for him we might carry on our 'trading' in safety and with great profit," continued the Arab."For years he has fought us, driving us from the richest part of the country, harassing us, and arming the natives that they may repel us when we come to 'trade.' He is very rich.If we could find some way to make him pay us many pieces of gold we should not only be avenged upon him; but repaid for much that he has prevented us from winning from the natives under his protection."
Werper withdrew a cigaret from a jeweled case and lighted it.
"And you have a plan to make him pay?" he asked.
"He has a wife," replied Achmet Zek, "whom men say is very beautiful.She would bring a great price farther north, if we found it too difficult to collect ransom money from this Tarzan."
Werper bent his head in thought.Achmet Zek stood awaiting his reply.What good remained in Albert Werper revolted at the thought of selling a white woman into the slavery and degradation of a Moslem harem.
He looked up at Achmet Zek.He saw the Arab's eyes narrow, and he guessed that the other had sensed his antagonism to the plan.What would it mean to Werper to refuse? His life lay in the hands of this semi-barbarian, who esteemed the life of an unbeliever less highly than that of a dog.Werper loved life.What was this woman to him, anyway? She was a European, doubtless, a member of organized society.He was an outcast.The hand of every white man was against him.
She was his natural enemy, and if he refused to lend himself to her undoing, Achmet Zek would have him killed.
"You hesitate," murmured the Arab.
"I was but weighing the chances of success," lied Werper, "and my reward.As a European I can gain admittance to their home and table.You have no other with you who could do so much.The risk will be great.
I should be well paid, Achmet Zek."
A smile of relief passed over the raider's face.
"Well said, Werper," and Achmet Zek slapped his lieutenant upon the shoulder."You should be well paid and you shall.Now let us sit together and plan how best the thing may be done," and the two men squatted upon a soft rug beneath the faded silks of Achmet's once gorgeous tent, and talked together in low voices well into the night.Both were tall and bearded, and the exposure to sun and wind had given an almost Arab hue to the European's complexion.In every detail of dress, too, he copied the fashions of his chief, so that outwardly he was as much an Arab as the other.
It was late when he arose and retired to his own tent.
The following day Werper spent in overhauling his Belgian uniform, removing from it every vestige of evidence that might indicate its military purposes.
From a heterogeneous collection of loot, Achmet Zek procured a pith helmet and a European saddle, and from his black slaves and followers a party of porters, askaris and tent boys to make up a modest safari for a big game hunter.At the head of this party Werper set out from camp.
