Tarzan and the Coward

From the heart of the jungle comes a savage cry of victory. This is Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle. From the black core of dark Africa, land of enchantment, mystery and violence, comes one of the most colorful figures of all time.

Transcribe from the immortal pan of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Tarzan, the bronze, white sun of the jungle. And now in the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of Tarzan and the coward. One might have searched far and wide before finding a more complete antithesis of Tarzan's jungle than the New York penthouse of stockbroker William Dudley Pempler.

And yet the paths of those who occupied the Park Avenue apartment were destined across that of the Lord of the Jungle. Already as Pembro's nephew Harry toyed with a high ball in his hand and watched his visitor nervously, fate was designing the blueprints for the meeting.

I asked you not to come here, Scoradi. Afraid you're not going to find out you keep bad company? No, no, it's not that. It's just that... See, here, Scoradi. I'll get the money for you.

You said that three weeks ago. The old birds who fond of you, why don't you make them come across? She doesn't approve of gambling. I have no other way of explaining why I need $30,000.

But give me two months and I'll walk right into your office with the money. Yeah, sure. Look, my uncle and I are going on a hunting trip to Africa, and when I get back I'll have plenty of dough.

I'll come. I overheard him talking to his lawyer on the phone last night. He told him something about changing his will, and later I heard him spell my name out. And so on this little hunting trip, you'll see that his death comes a little sooner than he expects, huh?