Adventure Magazine Cover — page 173: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Temple of the Ten more his body settled into lines of frightful tension. He expended his strength with reckless abandon. Kilgore, drawn out of his apathy by his prodigious exhibition, came to his feet. He saw Day once again lift himself from the ground, his body bent nearly double, the leg muscles expanding inch by inch. It was too much; he uttered a sharp cry of protest. His cry was lost in the sound of Day falling, the dull crack of iron. It was not the man which had given way, but the metal. This time Day did not scramble up at once, but slowly staggered to his feet. Triumph had blazoned its mark in his bloodshot, staring eyes. This time a section of the iron had come away, leaving a hole in the grating a foot square. ‘‘Next—time—wins!” gasped Day exul- tantly. He wrapped about his bleeding palms some of his discarded rags. For a moment he stood eying the grating with a vast satisfaction, puffing mightily. Then with a final deep breath of resolution he again sat down. Kilgore watched in silence; he no longer cherished any doubt that the grating would give way—he only hoped that the man’s body would not give way likewise. For the third time Day strained: But on this occasion, instead of taking a single bit of iron between both hands, he grasped two separate strands of the lattice! Again he was bent double, again a violent rush of blood suffused his face and neck, while his rigid hands clamped upon the iron—crack! Weakened by the previous breakage, the grill sundered. A yawning hole answered the efforts of the man. Day did not rise, but sat where he had fallen. For an instant he was incapable of. speech. Then he dragged himself to one knee and shook the broken fragment of iron at the grill before him. “Beat you!” he cried savagely. you—muscle over iron! Now——” He paused abruptly as another voice floated upon the cavern chamber, a voice whose thrilling timbre was by this time haunting Day himself. “Good!” it cried. ‘Good! burra sahib!”’ From the roof came a sudden creaking and grind of iron. Sudden and swift, an object rushed downward, came to the floor with a clangor and strident ring of iron. “Beat Try again, This object was a second grating, Six inches. inside the first one! “Try again, burra sahib!” echoed that haunting voice. Day uttered a despairing gasp and dropped again to the floor. He was beaten. CHAPTER XII “MENCIUS SAID ‘THAT WAS ONE TIME; THIS ‘IS ANOTHER.’ ”’—Kung-sun Ch’ou Hoek a time Day sat in gloomy silence. ' At length he picked up his pipe and lighted it. “I am beginning to be converted to your belief,” he said in a changed voice. “If this Rani woman of yours were here, Kilgore— you think she would squeeze us?” Kilgore nodded. “The cards are stacked,” he answered briefly. Both men lifted their heads and Jookied toward the entrance of the chamber. The grate of footsteps on the sanded floor reached: them. They saw, flitting into the’ circle of light from their lamps, the’ yellow- shrouded figure of their guide. This figure came toward the grill that prisoned them, halted a yard from it and felt. with extended hand. Touching the iron, the figure recoiled a pace and then sat down. At this gesture, at this entire action, the two captives for the first time perceived ~ that the figure was blind. “Now we shall talk, sahibs,” said that same vibrant voice.: “Who are you?’ demanded Kilgore, staring. ‘ “T am Esrun,”’ came the answer, with a laugh that rang eerily from the rock walls. “But once you knew me by another name, sahib. Would you recognize me again?” It was here that Esrun abandoned her broken English and spoke in Hindustani. Kilgore made answer in the same tongue, which Day understood fairly well. “Tf you are the Rani—” and Kilgore’s voice shook a trifle—‘‘then I would remem- ber you indeed!’ For response,..Esrun drew the yellow cloths from her figure. Kilgore stiffened with horror; Day uttered a low, choked gasp. ‘The thing before them had once been a woman—this.-much was certain. More; it was hard to say. Leprosy had wrought its frightful- vengeance:on the 9 163 > DOO COMIC S LO) (EO) m