Then Tarzan wheeled and passed on into the depths of the temple.
From room to room he went, until he came to one at which a rude,
barred door still stood, and as he put his shoulder against it to
push it in, again the shriek of warning rang out almost beside him.
It was evident that he was being warned to refrain from desecrating
this particular room. Or could it be that within lay the secret
to the treasure stores?

At any rate, the very fact that the strange, invisible guardians
of this weird place had some reason for wishing him not to enter
this particular chamber was sufficient to treble Tarzan's desire
to do so, and though the shrieking was repeated continuously, he
kept his shoulder to the door until it gave before his giant strength
to swing open upon creaking wooden hinges.

Within all was black as the tomb. There was no window to let in
the faintest ray of light, and as the corridor upon which it opened
was itself in semi-darkness, even the open door shed no relieving
rays within. Feeling before him upon the floor with the butt of
his spear, Tarzan entered the Stygian gloom. Suddenly the door
behind him closed, and at the same time hands clutched him from
every direction out of the darkness.

The ape-man fought with all the savage fury of self-preservation
backed by the herculean strength that was his. But though he felt
his blows land, and his teeth sink into soft flesh, there seemed
always two new hands to take the place of those that he fought
off. At last they dragged him down, and slowly, very slowly, they
overcame him by the mere weight of their numbers. And then they
bound him--his hands behind his back and his feet trussed up to