The next morning before dawn had penetrated the jungle, Dick awoke from a troubled sleep with a voice sounding in his ears.
"Arise my son! Now is the time to set forth."
Springing from his bed of leafy branches and soft skins, Dick saw his faithful Kurt pacing back and forth near by, while Kurul, stretched under a mango tree, was snoring heavily.
The two devoted tribesmen had guarded him, taking shifts through the night. Near his resting place Ray and Dan were still sound asleep, exhausted by the excitement of the night before.
Dick paused a moment to look at the sleeping girl, whose flushed cheeks and dark tumbled hair made a pretty picture, but again the voice was in his ears, and he recognized it as the Mahatma's.
"Take the horses and set out to find your father. Now is the time."
Dick could not see the Hindu. A few drowsy natives were stirring about the camp, but the wise man had sought a hiding place in some hut. Yet the Boy King knew that his adviser was guiding him by sending his message as before, and he hurried to get his force together.
Snatching a hasty bite as he moved about, Dick made up a party of picked men. First he selected Kurt, Kurul and Raal, dependable fighters; then Mutaba, for his knowledge of the jungle, and then a number of first class warriors from the Gorols and Taharans, as many as there were horses to mount.
Mutaba seemed to require no explanation. It seemed as though the Mahatma had told him where to go and what to do.
In a few minutes the party set out, with Ray and Dan following in the rear, rubbing their eyes sleepily. Veena rode with them, looking very fresh and happy. Since Raal had won her heart by rescuing her, the little savage girl was no longer jealous of Ray and wanted to be her friend.
As for the Mahatma, he stayed in the camp, promising to guide them from his resting place.
The trail of the fleeing Arabs was not hard to follow, as there were plenty of hoof prints in the soft earth of the forest, and the undergrowth gave them no chance to stray from the narrow path.
Yet Dick saw how wise had been the Mahatma's advice to make no attempt to follow in the previous night's darkness. The way was crooked as a snake's trail and passed on narrow strips of hard ground between treacherous swamps, while sometimes a fallen tree was the only bridge across a sluggish stream.
The mist hung heavy over the forest, so that the depths were veiled in gray shadow and the sun could not penetrate the low-hanging fog, though it soon warmed it until it resembled the steam room of a Turkish bath.
"Glory be!" exclaimed Dan, yawning and mopping his wet brow. "This is a terrible place to be lost. I'd rather be back on the desert. There you can see where you are going, at any rate!"
"Don't make a noise," cautioned Ray. "We don't know what enemies may be lurking about."
"That's a fact. Mobogoma and his blacks may be behind any of those trees, waiting to shoot us full of arrows and make us look like a pincushion."
"Yes. Or the Arabs may be close by. And that terrible Jess Slythe."
"I hope he is!" Dan exclaimed. "I'd like to get my hands on that fellow."
"Don't, Dan! It makes me shudder to think of it. He wouldn't think twice about killing you in cold blood."
"I'm not scared of him!" boasted Dan, who always liked to show off a little before his sister. "If I could meet him in a fair fight, I'd soon show you who is the better man."
He was interrupted by the sound of a distant drum. The noise came from some native camp, that might be miles away and the message it tapped out in code seemed to convey a lugubrious warning.
"Gosh, that's enough to make a fellow want to creep in and hide," muttered Dan. "Suppose it is a signal for some war party to attack us!"
"It does scare a person," Ray admitted. "Here in the jungle everything is so terrifying and the drums get on my nerves."
Dick was far in advance at the head of the party with Mutaba.
"What do you make of that drum?" he asked.
The guide shook his black head and grinned.
"Is it a war drum?"
"No, Bwana Dick."
"Is it a warning from Chief Mobogoma to some other tribe?"
"No, Bwana Dick. Pay no attention to that drum."
"Tell me. If we are in danger I've got to know about it."
"I tell you, Master," said Mutaba. "The black fellows have drums for war. They have drums for other things, too. This drum tells a man's wife, 'I am on Snake Island, hunting with my friends and we killed much meat."
"Is that all?"
"No. Listen, now it says more. It says, 'I ate so much last night that I am too heavy to walk. I won't come back until tomorrow night.'"
Dick laughed. "That's like a 'phone call from the office. What does the man's wife say?"
"Nothing." Mutaba grinned. "Wait until he get home. Then she say plenty!"
"I guess it's the same the whole world over," smiled Dick. "Say, this is fine! The fog is lifting. And look, we are getting out of the forest."
Mutaba cautioned for silence and, dismounting, ran ahead to see what was before them, while Dan halted the column.
He awaited anxiously until the guide returned and explained in awe-struck tones:
"Ahead of us is a wide clearing on high ground. A great bird is there with broken wings. It is terrible magic."
"Are the Arabs there? And did you see Jess Slythe?"
"Yes, Bwana Dick. Slythe is there, but the others are leaving. I think they are afraid of the giant bird with broken wings."
"Well, I'm not!" cried Dick. And he shouted back to his followers. "Forward men! Let's go!"
The warriors let out their horses and on approaching the cleared space they scattered among the open trees and charged in from different angles. Before Dick's eyes was what he expected, from Mutaba's description: theMeteoritecrashed and helpless.
Instantly he guessed what had happened.
Slythe had landed there with his prisoners whom he had taken to Mobogoma's camp. Then after being driven out he had tried to escape with Professor Oakwood, his remaining captive, and had crashed on the take-off.
As Dick neared the plane he could see Jess working about it, while his father, tied by the wrists, sat on the ground, looking very wretched and hopeless. No Arabs were in sight.
"Don't worry, Dad! Your troubles are over!" shouted Dick as he galloped forward, while behind him thundered the hoofs of his rescue party.
The professor gave a great shout of delight. Jess Slythe cursed and drew his revolver, firing wildly, but the range was too great. He emptied his gun without effect and before he could reload, the tribesmen were almost upon him, yelling and brandishing their weapons. Already arrows were whistling about his ears, as the riders shot from the saddle and Jess Slythe saw that his only chance for safety was in flight. Cursing like a madman he waved his empty gun at the riders, then dashed for his own horse and put spurs to it.
"After him, men!" shouted Dick, and he saw the riders hot in pursuit. But as for himself, he was not so keen to overtake Jess Slythe as to hold his father in his arms.
Out of the saddle he leaped and the next instant he was embracing the old man and laughing, almost crying in excitement.
"Oh, Dad, this is wonderful!"
"My boy! My boy!" the older man exclaimed, and after giving Dick a big hug he held him off at arm's length and surveyed him.
Dick made a splendid showing in his garb of a savage king, clad in the skin of a wild beast and carrying primitive weapons, and his father was proud of him as well as astonished.
"I always trusted you to come out all right!" he exclaimed. "Rex Carter said I did wrong to let you run loose in Africa, but I told him you were able to take care of yourself better than most men."
"But at that, you never expected to hear of me crowned with the ancient diadem of the Taharans and Gorols," laughed Dick. "Say Dad, what do you think! I found a Hindu wise man who says that crown was once owned by King Solomon himself."
Professor Oakwood did not try to laugh off this story. Instead he answered seriously, "There are more strange things in the wilds of Africa than I ever dreamed of. I must talk to your wise man."
The father and son had much to say to each other. The professor explained how Jess Slythe had tried to fly with him that morning but the plane had made a faulty take-off and crashed before it got far from the ground.
"And Jess had a stiff row with the Arab scoundrel, Abdul," said Professor Oakwood. "That's why the Arabs left in a huff, and Jess was trying to patch up the plane."
Dan and Ray had joined the party now, while most of the tribesmen gathered about, staring at the damagedMeteorite. One by one, the men who had been pursuing Jess Slythe returned. The clever scoundrel had given them all the slip, and as he was mounted on a fresh horse, there was little chance of catching up with him.
"Give it up as a bad job!" observed Dan. "Say, I'll meet that crook some day and, boy! How I'll make him suffer!"
"He will be punished sooner or later," said Professor Oakwood. "No villain escapes in the long run. Sometimes the penalty is delayed, but somehow, sometime, the evil-doers pay for their wickedness."
"Is that why you never get excited, Dad?"
"Yes, Dick, I am philosophic about life. Believing as I do, I can take things as they come."
"You and the Mahatma would have a lot to talk about," said Dan eagerly. "Say, that wise old bird has everything all figured out. He's wonderful!"
Ray laughed.
"Dan is funny," she said. "First he disbelieves everything, but once he is convinced, he swallows all he is told."
"Oh, come now, Ray," exclaimed her brother. "You should be the first to admit that Old Santa Claus—I mean the Mahatma—is the real thing. Why, without him we would have been killed by the savages and you would not have been rescued."
Dan went on to explain the Hindu's power to send his thoughts through space and to control animals by his mysterious gift.
"Seeing is believing!" laughed Ray. "When I actuallyseeall that, I'll believe it."
But Professor Oakwood was inclined to take the Mahatma seriously. "I am anxious to talk to this wise man from the East," he said. "There is nothing I should like better than to learn more about his occult power."
"You will have the chance today," said Dick. "He is waiting for us at the camp."
"That's where you're wrong," said Dan. "Some mysterious power tells me that he is on his way here."
He gravely closed his eyes, placed one hand on his forehead and raising the other one spread his fingers rapidly and closed them again. "Hocus-pocus! Abracadabra! Now-you-see-it. Now-you-don't! Here comes the Mahatma now!"
Ray saw a suspicious twitch at the corner of her brother's mouth and cried, "Dan Carter, you're spoofing us!"
Dick looked hastily in the direction of the jungle trail by which they had come and saw figures moving through the trees.
"Say, you foxy rascal!" he exclaimed. "It's easy to guess what 'mysterious power' told you that the Mahatma is on the way. It was just good eyesight!"
Sure enough, the litter bearers were now at the edge of the clearing and the Hindu could be seen plainly moving toward them.
"I told you so!" cried Ray. "All this crystal gazing and the other miracles can be explained just as easily. I bet the Mahatma has been laughing at you all the time."
Both Dick and Dan paid no attention to her outburst. Already they were running to meet the old man, whom they regarded as their benefactor, and soon they were leading him in triumph to the plane where Professor Oakwood was standing.
Dick introduced his father and the two elderly gentlemen shook hands. They were totally different in appearance, the professor so spare and erect with thin, alert features and the Mahatma, stout, even pudgy, with his flowing beard and dark intelligent eyes.
"I am grateful to you for helping us out of a great danger," said Professor Oakwood. "My son tells me that you have used your strange science to save our lives."
"I know but little," said the Mahatma gravely, "but what little knowledge I have is at your service."
"How can I ever repay you?"
"Your son has offered to repay me a thousand times over," replied the Mahatma. "When he shows me the ancient crown, engraved with symbols of knowledge, I shall be the happiest man in the world."
"That's right," Dick cried. "I'll take you back to the land of the Gorols. That's where the crown is guarded."
"It's going to be a long hard trek for a fat man," blurted Dan. Then he blushed and stammered, "Excuse me! You're not soterriblyfat! What I mean is, it's a hot trip across the desert. I minded it myself."
The Mahatma smiled. "Don't apologize, my son! And have no fear about the long journey, for my crystal tells me that we shall fly there through the air."
"Oh, you mean in the plane. That's where we are all out of luck. Jess Slythe crashed it this morning."
"So my crystal told me," said the Hindu. "But we do not need that plane. Another one is on the way now. It is many times larger than this one and can carry us with ease."
"You mean my father's plane?" Dan was excited at the prediction.
"Did you not say that your father had an airplane that could fly with us—even to Holy India? Behold, it is flying toward us even now."
Dick, Dan and Ray all searched the sky for a glimpse of Rex Carter's cabin plane, but there was not a speck in the blue.
"False alarm!" laughed Ray. "Lucky we have horses!"
"You're going to admit that you're wrong," teased Dan.
Dick produced his binoculars from the case that hung over his shoulder and studied the heavens but there was no trace of a plane to be seen anywhere.
"Not yet, my son!" said the Mahatma. "We can go to the fringe of the forest and rest in the shade. It will be an hour before the plane appears from the west."
He signalled to his bearers and they carried his litter to the nearest clump of trees, while Professor Oakwood walked alongside, conversing earnestly with the wise man.
The others followed and soon all were comfortably seated in the shade, and happy to be out of the blistering African sunlight.
Ray, Dan and Dick had plenty to talk about for a while but presently Ray became drowsy in the heat and yawned.
"I need a good sleep," she declared. "I've had too much excitement."
"What I crave is a good lunch," said Dan. "Why didn't somebody bring a picnic basket?"
His head sank between his knees and he dozed off but suddenly Dick shook him by the shoulders and the distant roar of engines was the first thing he heard.
At first Dan thought he was dreaming, then he sprang to his sister and shouted in her ear, "Wake up! Wake up! Look, Ray! There comes the plane!"
Ray ran out into the clearing, shouting and waving her arms.
Dan and Dick followed her and yelled at the top of their voices.
"This is silly," said Dick, finally. "What's the use of shouting? We could never be heard above the noise of the engines."
"It's too far away to see us," groaned Dan.
"But they are sure to see the wreckedMeteorite" Dick assured him.
"That's so. If they keep straight on, they will pass right over it," said Ray, then her voice broke as she exclaimed, "Look, Dan. It's banking for a turn. The plane is starting the other way!"
"Quick, Dan, let's get a fire going!"
Dick Oakwood was taking no chances. He shouted orders to Raal and the other tribesmen and they rushed about getting dead branches and brush from the forest. Soon a huge fire was sending up a column of smoke.
Evidently the pilot was searching for the lost party, for he flew the plane slowly. Dick Oakwood was in a position to sympathize with Rex Carter, the anxious father hunting over the jungle for some trace of his children. Dick had gone through so many hours of worry lately that he knew how terrible was the suspense that the unhappy man was suffering.
While he felt sure that the wrecked monoplane would be seen, he made doubly certain of it by sending up a signal that would attract the pilot's attention from miles away.
With his eyes straining at the cabin plane, he suddenly gave a great shout:
"Hurrah! They have seen the fire. Look! Now they're banking again."
"Oh Dan!" cried Ray. "It's coming straight toward us. I'm so happy! I could almost believe in your old Mahatma now."
"He's a wise old bird," Dan asserted. "It's coming out just as he said it would."
The natives had sighted the cabin plane and expressed their feelings in different ways. The Kungoras took to the woods in terror. The Gorols, clutching their weapons, dodged behind rocks and bushes, ready to fight off the flying demons if they should prove hostile. Only the Taharans, reassured by Raal, stood their ground without fear, believing that the Boy King would protect them. But even they were a little uneasy as the giant plane flew above the clearing and its shadow swept over them like a great hawk's.
"Fear nothing!" cried Dick to encourage them. "They are my friends."
"Tahara hal!" shouted the warriors lustily.
Professor Oakwood, standing beside the Mahatma, shook the Hindu's hand. "You are a good prophet," he said. "It is just an hour since you said the plane would be here. And now it comes on the dot."
Sikandar smiled and sent his warning to the Taharans in the open space. "Scatter to the woods, make way for the friendly eagle."
As the tribesmen scampered to safety, the great plane banked and leveled for a landing, while the pilot searched for a safe spot. A minute later it was on the ground with its three powerful motors still. The door flew open and Rex Carter leaped out to catch his boy and girl in his arms.
The big, ruddy-faced business man was almost in tears, so great was his relief.
"I had given you up for lost!" he exclaimed in a choking voice. "I never expected to see you alive again!"
"How did you know where to look for us?" asked Ray, hugging and kissing her father.
"It was Hassam. The fellow knew about the tribes that Jess Slythe traded with and directed us here. But it was a hopeless search, or so it seemed. Why you might have been hidden in that jungle and we could have passed close overhead without seeing you."
"It must have been terrible for you," said Ray, clinging to him.
"And how you must have suffered!" exclaimed her father. "If ever I lay hands on that scoundrel who stole you away, I'll make him wish he had never been born."
"Same here!" Dan clenched his fists and glared about as though he expected to see the treacherous Slythe lurking near by.
Rex Carter clapped his son on the shoulder and looked at him affectionately. "You're a great boy!" he said. "These adventures have hardened your muscles and tanned your skin. I was wrong to let you out of my sight so long, but now that it's over, I feel that it has made a man of you."
Dan eagerly related all his experiences since he had parted from his father and soon Professor Oakwood and Dick came to shake hands and exchange congratulations.
Later Rex Carter was introduced to the Hindu seer, who received the wealthy business man with quiet dignity. Carter was impressed for though the Mahatma wore nothing but a saffron-colored loin cloth, he was as majestic as though he were clad in the robes of a king.
Dan explained how the wise man had come to Africa in search of an ancient crown, on which was the symbol of perfect wisdom.
At first Rex Carter was inclined to take it lightly, but when he learned that the diadem was probably the same one that Dick Oakwood had worn in the land of the Taharans, he could hardly restrain his impatience.
"I'll fly you there, today," he said. "By sundown we will all be in the realm of the Boy King."
"I accept your offer with thanks," said the Mahatma.
"And after that I'll take you to India. Any place you want to go!" continued Carter. "You have done more for my children than I can ever pay for. Pack up your belongings and we will take off for Tahara now."
"My belongings are here," said the Mahatma, displaying the square of black cloth which contained his crystal.
"Is that all you own?" The millionaire was startled.
"That is all. More would be a weight to drag me from the higher plane where my spirit dwells."
"That's all right for a Hindu sage, but it would be all wrong for an American business man," Rex Carter answered, thinking of his vast factory, his town house and country estate, his yacht and automobiles.
With only a bow for reply, the Mahatma went a little way off, where he summoned his faithful Kungoras and took leave of them.
Mutaba threw himself on the ground and howled with grief and the others wailed in unison. They had lived in peace and happiness under this wise man's rule, and though they had sometimes been impatient to go on the warpath, they now realized that they were losing their best friend and adviser. They begged him to change his mind and stay with them but the Mahatma assured them that the time had come to say goodbye and urged them to follow the ways of peace and kindness as he had taught them.
Meanwhile Dick was instructing Raal, as leader of the tribesmen, to return to the Kungora village, recover their ponies and begin the long trek home across the desert. The plane could carry only a limited number.
"I'll be glad to take the Princess Veena in the plane," said Rex Carter. "And of course, Ray, Dan and Dick, besides the Mahatma."
But Veena would not consent to parting from Raal, whom she regarded as her chosen mate, and Raal was equally certain that he would never trust the girl to the demon bird.
With great difficulty Kurt and Kurul were induced to go along in the plane. Until the last minute the Stone-Age men hung back, fearful of a strong magic that might destroy them, yet curious to experience the sensation of flying through the air.
"Plane good!" said Dick giving Kurt a push toward the cabin door.
"Sure! Big bird good!" Dan laughed. "Come on, Ray, show them you're not afraid to go in. Then they will be ashamed to be scared."
Finally with a grunt of desperation Kurt took one leap that landed him inside the cabin. Kurul followed, helped by a shove from Dick and a minute later the motors roared, the big plane taxied with many bumps over the clearing and finally took off.
"Tahara hal!" gasped Kurt.
"Tahara hal!" echoed Kurul feebly. And the two husky savages clung to each other like scared children as they saw the jungle far, far below.
That same evening the pilot of the cabin plane sighted the cliffs of Gorol Land and before sunset had made a safe landing near the Big Spring.
Queen Vanga and Chief Wabiti came out to receive the visitors but Kulki walked between them and showed that he was having difficulty in keeping the former rulers from flying at each others' throats.
Since the failure of their plot with Cimbula, each had blamed the other, and their friendship had turned sour.
Now they joined in greeting the Boy King with due reverence and ordered a feast that promised to tax even Dan Carter's powers. Dick assured them that Raal and the other warriors were on their way home and that the search for the Princess Veena had been successful.
The following days were busy ones for the Boy King. Accompanied by his father and friends, he set out on a tour of inspection to see that all was in order in the land he ruled. Proudly he pointed out to his father the industries he had started going.
"Just think," he said, "these people lived like Stone-Age tribes. They did not know how to build houses or weave cloth or make tools out of metal. It is going to be interesting to watch them advance in civilization."
"I can send out motor trucks with machinery," said Rex Carter, "and start you off right. And I'll send a few guards with repeating rifles to keep the natives from starting trouble. I'll even send you a machine gun or two."
"No thanks, Mr. Carter! I don't wantthatbrand of civilization. We have enough factory towns and machine guns elsewhere. I'd like to start something better here."
"In that case I advise you to blot out that big sign on the desert," said his father. "That word 'Gold' will attract some greedy adventurer, and before long your whole population will be wiped out."
"You're right, Dad! It's a word that spells trouble."
Dick gave orders to the Taharans and the Gorols to scatter the rocks that formed the letters and destroy every trace of the sign, and then led the party to the cave where Umba had painted the walls with pictures of animals.
"These are marvelous!" cried Professor Oakwood. "Just as fine as the paintings in the caves of Spain and France. I could spend a whole day here."
Leaving the rest of the party with Umba, the crippled painter, Dick Oakwood and Mahatma Sikandar proceeded to the cave of the Great Gorol, where he had left the ancient crown. The entrance to the cavern was guarded by tribesmen, stationed there for that purpose, and when Dick and the Mahatma approached, they bowed low and cried, "Tahar Tahara, hal! Welcome, O Master."
Taking a couple of pitch pine torches, Dick led the way through the passages of the prehistoric mine, pointing out the seams of gold-bearing quartz.
But the Hindu paid no attention to the rich ore.
"Make haste, Dick Sahib," he said. "I would feast my eyes upon the ancient diadem and its magic inscriptions."
"Patience, O Mahatma! Patience!" laughed Dick. "One more turn and the passage ends in the temple of the Ape-god."
Soon they reached the small, square room where, upon the block of stone, reposed the crown of the two tribes.
Mahatma Sikandar prostrated himself before it, murmuring a chant of thanksgiving, then held his torch close to the massive circlet of soft gold and gems. His keen, dark eyes were gleaming with excitement as he studied every detail of the relic engraved with symbols.
Dick Oakwood picked it up and held it so that the inner surface could be seen and the Mahatma gave an exclamation of delight.
"These are the magic signs!" he cried. "Behold the wisdom of the ages engraved by seers many thousand years ago!"
"Do you understand it, Mahatma?"
"Iunderstand it? Not I! Only a glimpse of its profound wisdom has reached my soul."
"Then what good will it do you?"
"I have recorded every detail of the inscriptionhere." The old man tapped his forehead. "The picture of that crown is in my brain like a photograph. Soon I shall go to Holy India and there in the remote caves and temples, I shall speak to the masters who are far wiser than I."
"And will those wise men tell you what it all means?"
"Little by little! Bit by bit!" replied the Mahatma. "Each of these holy men will be able to interpret a part of the meaning. I shall visit the cave hermits in the Himalayas and the devotees in the temples, who recline on beds of spikes. I shall even go to the fastness of Tibet, where the lamas spend their lives in the search for truth."
"The temples of India! The Himalayas, with Everest the highest mountain in the world! The forbidden land of Tibet! What wonderful sights you will see!"
"Would you like to see Holy India, my son?"
"Would I? Say, I'd like nothing better than to be there with you!" exclaimed Dick. "It would be a real adventure to visit that land of mystery."
"The crystal has told me that you shall accompany me," said the Hindu. "And that before many moons."
"Do you mean it?"
"I have spoken."
"But what about my kingdom? How can I leave these people? They trust me. They need me."
"Raal is a strong warrior," said the Mahatma. "He can rule while you are gone, and Kulki, the clever Gorol can be his chief adviser."
"I hate to go away and leave them to the mercy of Arab slave raiders," said Dick. "After all, being a king, means responsibility. Suppose Jess Slythe should start another raid while I am gone. He could wipe out the whole population."
"That evil man will not trouble your land. Certainly not for a long time. Perhaps never. So you are free to fly in the great plane and see the wonders of Holy India."
"Great!" exclaimed Dick. "And what about Ray and Dan? Will they come too?"
"My crystal says they will be with us. Also your father and Rex Carter."
"I'd like to take Kurt and Kurul along," said Dick. "It would be interesting to have Stone-Age men in the party. I'd like to know what they would do in the great world beyond the desert and the jungle."
"What will be, will be," answered the Mahatma quietly. "And now, my son, this is my request to you: say no more to me about the ancient crown and the symbols engraved on it. The image is clear in my mind. By talking about it, the sharp outline will become dim and cloudy. Promise!"
"Yes, Mahatma, I promise. Until you speak of it, I remain silent."
"Come then. Let us go!"
With this future of travel and fresh adventure to occupy his mind, the Boy King could hardly wait until Raal and his warriors returned. Meanwhile preparations were made for the flight to India. Rex Carter had to return with Professor Oakwood to the Pomegranate Oasis to wind up the affairs of the solar eclipse expedition.
"I'm taking Ray and Dan along," he said. "I'll feel safer to have them in sight."
"But let's work fast, Dad," cried Ray. "I want to set out for India as soon as we can."
"Patience, kid sister! Patience!" laughed Dan.
"Don't talk like the Mahatma. It gives me the jitters," Ray exclaimed. "Something tells me that I'll be sorry I ever met that man. It's one thrill after another when he is in the picture. I like it—but it makes me nervous."
A few weeks later the big cabin plane returned to the land of the Boy King to find all in readiness for the take-off to India. Raal had been appointed viceroy, with Princess Veena sharing the honors as his wife. Professor Oakwood had been hard at work collecting material for a book and specimens for museums, and was reluctant to leave the Stone-Age tribes.
"Don't worry, Dad. We are all coming back some day," Dick promised him as the party took off on its search for adventure among the mystics of India.
Far below on the desert the whole population was gathered to wave goodbye to Tahara as the great wings bore their Boy King away. "Tahara hal!" came their farewell shout, growing fainter and fainter in the distance as the plane headed eastward toward the home of mystery and romance.
THE END
IT'S A PASSINTERFERENCEDOWN THE ICEOVER THE LINESTRIKE HIM OUTUNDER THE BASKETTHE TENNIS TERRORCAPTAIN OF THE ELEVENTAHARA—BOY MYSTIC OF INDIATAHARA—AMONG AFRICAN TRIBESTAHARA—BOY KING OF THE DESERTTAHARA—IN THE LAND OF YUCATANTHE FUN LOVING GANG—IN WRONG RIGHTTHE FUN LOVING GANG—ALWAYS UP TO SOMETHING