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Burroughs, Edgar Rice, 1875-1950

"Son of Tarzan"


A creature of ease and luxury, he had never been subjected to the
hardships and tortures which now were his constant companionship,
yet, his clothing torn, his flesh scratched and bleeding, he urged
the black to greater speed, though with every dozen steps he himself
fell from exhaustion.
It was revenge which kept him going--that and a feeling that in his
suffering he was partially expiating the great wrong he had done
the girl he loved--for hope of saving her from the fate into which
he had trapped her had never existed. "Too late! Too late!" was
the dismal accompaniment of thought to which he marched. "Too late!
Too late to save; but not too late to avenge!" That kept him up.
Only when it became too dark to see would he permit of a halt. A
dozen times in the afternoon he had threatened the black with instant
death when the tired guide insisted upon resting. The fellow was
terrified. He could not understand the remarkable change that had
so suddenly come over the white man who had been afraid in the dark
the night before. He would have deserted this terrifying master had
he had the opportunity; but Baynes guessed that some such thought
might be in the other's mind, and so gave the fellow none.


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