Jungle Hijackers

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 jungle hijackers. Once the small plateau had been covered by a mass of heavy jungle growth, but now it was a rock-strewn clearing that bore a variety of drab-colored buildings.

Here, near the native village of Elbow Day, halfway between Dakar and Suez, lay the headquarters of the Joint Transportation Command, West African sector. Ordinarily a quiet, inactive post. Today, it wrestled with activity. The top brass had come unexpectedly.

They had tumbled out of their desert soil cars, stormed into Major Haberuk's office, remained there but a short time, and then departed in a cloud of gasoline fuel. But they had remained long enough to turn everything upside down.

I say, pardon me, Diamond, but you tell me if I'm in the right building, I'm looking for Major Haberuk. His office is right down the hall. If you'll stay to a business... A line kept in Lawrence of the governmental police. The Major just sent a native runner into the village for me.

Yes, sir. He'd have to work with if you came. We would have bring you right in. Will you follow me, sir? Certainly. I see. Is it all of some noise here, aren't you? Not usually, sir.

You don't have to serve me. My wreck is captain in the governmental police's about the equivalent of a private fourth class in your army. According to Major Habrock... He must have changed his opinion, sir.