"Yes, it is well that we should be friends," continued Phobeg, "well for you. Everyone wants to be friends with me, for they have learned that my enemies get their necks twisted. I take them like this, by the head and the neck," and with his great paws he went through a pantomime of seizing and twisting; "then, crack! their spines break. What do you think of that?"
"I should think that your enemies would find that very uncomfortable," replied Tarzan.
"Uncomfortable!" ejaculated Phobeg. "Why, man, it kills them!"
"At least they can no longer hear," commented the lord of the jungle.
"Of course they cannot hear; they are dead. I do not see what that has to do with it."
"That does not surprise me," Tarzan assured him.
"What does not surprise you?" demanded Phobeg. "That they are dead? or that they cannot hear?"
"I am not easily surprised by anything," explained the ape-man.
Beneath his low forehead Phobeg's brows were knitted in thought. He scratched his head. "What were we talking about?" he demanded.
"We were trying to decide which would be more terrible," explained Tarzan patiently, "to have you for a friend or an enemy."