"But Nemone is not Phobeg. Nemone is Queen, and—"
"And what?" asked the ape-man.
Gemnon shrugged. "I was thinking aloud, which is a bad habit for one who enjoys life. Doubtless you may live long enough to know her better than you do now and then you can do your own thinking—but do not do it aloud."
"Did you lose much on Phobeg?" inquired Tarzan.
"I won; I bet on you. I met one of Erot's slaves who was going to place some of his master's money on Phobeg; I took it all. You know I had seen a little more of you than the other nobles and I believed that you had a chance, but I was backing your intelligence and agility against Phobeg's strength, stupidity, and awkwardness; even I did not dream that you were stronger than he."
"And the odds were good?"
Gemnon smiled. "Too good to be overlooked; it was more than a reasonable gamble. But I cannot understand Nemone; she is a great bettor but no gambler. She always puts her money on the favorite, and may Thoos help him if he does not win."
"A woman's intuition," suggested the ape-man.
"I think not; Nemone is too practical and calculating to act on intuition alone; she had some other reason. What it is, none knows but Nemone. The same mysterious motivation saved your life today or, perhaps I should say, prolonged it."
"I am going to see her this evening," said Tarzan, "and doubtless I shall affront her again; it seems that I have done so both times that I have seen her."