Anjani the Mighty. John Russell Fearn
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I might start a fashion in wearing leaves instead of cloth.”
Anjani smiled broadly once again. “When we get back to civilization,” he corrected.
Rita looked at him quickly, her grey eyes wide. “You mean you’ve actually decided to come back with me?”
“I have. The more I am with you, the more I know I can never do without you. My life and yours are bound up in each other.”
“But what about Tocoto?”
“Before I go I shall destroy him. It will not be difficult, now he is abroad in the jungle and afraid of those he formerly ruled. I shall find him this very day.”
“Unarmed?” Rita asked quietly,
Anjani glanced down at the blank space upon his loincloth where his knife usually rested. He shrugged his broad shoulders.
“I have fingers and muscles, and I shall be fighting a man and not an animal. I shall win—because I must.”
“Then when that is done, all we have to do is go back to Akada, get the treasure, and then—sail for home?”
“Just that.”
Rita forgot her meal for the moment and leaned forward, bringing her arms about Anjani’s neck. His arm encircled her slim waist, and for a moment they were silent. These were the moments Rita loved best, with his mighty frame so close to her, always there to protect her—
A sound made Anjani glance up. Rita did not trouble because she was quite happy where she was, but as she felt Anjani’s muscles tense, she too looked across the clearing. And paradise seemed to evaporate instantly.
Tocoto was standing only a few yards away, his knife in his hand, frozen hatred in his handsome face.
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