As Dick neared the plane he could see Jess working about it, while his father, tied by the wrists, sat on the ground, looking very wretched and hopeless. No Arabs were in sight.
"Don't worry, Dad! Your troubles are over!" shouted Dick as he galloped forward, while behind him thundered the hoofs of his rescue party.
The professor gave a great shout of delight. Jess Slythe cursed and drew his revolver, firing wildly, but the range was too great. He emptied his gun without effect and before he could reload, the tribesmen were almost upon him, yelling and brandishing their weapons. Already arrows were whistling about his ears, as the riders shot from the saddle and Jess Slythe saw that his only chance for safety was in flight. Cursing like a madman he waved his empty gun at the riders, then dashed for his own horse and put spurs to it.
"After him, men!" shouted Dick, and he saw the riders hot in pursuit. But as for himself, he was not so keen to overtake Jess Slythe as to hold his father in his arms.
Out of the saddle he leaped and the next instant he was embracing the old man and laughing, almost crying in excitement.
"Oh, Dad, this is wonderful!"
"My boy! My boy!" the older man exclaimed, and after giving Dick a big hug he held him off at arm's length and surveyed him.
Dick made a splendid showing in his garb of a savage king, clad in the skin of a wild beast and carrying primitive weapons, and his father was proud of him as well as astonished.
"I always trusted you to come out all right!" he exclaimed. "Rex Carter said I did wrong to let you run loose in Africa, but I told him you were able to take care of yourself better than most men."
"But at that, you never expected to hear of me crowned with the ancient diadem of the Taharans and Gorols," laughed Dick. "Say Dad, what do you think! I found a Hindu wise man who says that crown was once owned by King Solomon himself."