Adventure Magazine Cover — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

152 villagers and the merchants endure the demon, you say?” Patiently Jaswat Das explained, knowing the wisdom of his master and suspecting rightly that his story was for the benefit of the strange sahib who sat in uniform and with a sword at his belt beside the Resident. “Aye, sahib, itisso. For Bhir has waxed prosperous since the coming of the ghost who takes much wealth, but gives more. The merchants have rugs and store of gold in their houses—and fair wives.” Cunningham frowned thoughtfully at this. The district of Bhir, beside the great river Jumna, had long been a thorn in his side. “For how much silver,’’ he asked the but- ler, “would you take up your abode in the castle of Bhir?”’ The dark eyes of Jaswat Das widened and he salaamed. ‘Ai, my lord—I am but a poor khittmatgar. In my sahib’s command are many soldiers who are paid to be killed. Give them the silver and a piece of gold for their families and let them die. Has not the demon of ‘Bhir castle slain travelers who came within the district? Have not strangers dropped out of sight overnight, without a trace of the manner of their going?” “Enough, Jaswat Das. permission to depart.” You have my WHEN the two Englishmen were alone Cunningham turned to his companion with a smile that was not altogether merry. “There, Malcolm, you have the native side of the mystery of Bhir. Let me add a few words of my own to show how heavily it weighs upon the success of our affairs in the district.”’ Punctuating his remarks by prodding his cane into the dust at his feet, the Resident explained that following upon the signing of peace between the English and the Nawab of Oudh, the Northern Provinces had been established along the Jumna. was on friendly terms with its white allies. ‘Everything had gone well except in the dis- trict of Bhir—a fertile district, eagerly ex- ploited by Portuguese traders a hundred rs ago. In that quarter a malignant force had been at work against the feringhis. This power for evil had been located in the ruins of the castle of Bhir—a citadel built by a Rajputana. - Adventure long-dead raja and deserted for three gen- erations. : “It began with the death by sickness of Mr. Powell, a commissioner of the company, three years ago. He was robbed of his revenues after he had established himself in the castle. The fortress, you know, over- looks the countryside, the highway and the river, and seemed to him the most suitable and honorable quarters. ‘And then, last year a worthy gentleman who was my friend took over the office of magistrate and collector of Bhir. He also availed himself of the castle. Certain hos- tile manifestations of an uncanny nature alarmed him—so I am informed by his na- tive cook who fled the place before him— and he was hastening back to me when he disappeared. He literally vanished, horse, revenues, servant and all, on the highroad.” Cunningham sighed. “‘Added to the untimely death of these two kindly and respected gentlemen is the loss of several couriers sent by them to me— both English and native troopers. We were never able to trace them after they started forth on the highroad. Nor were we. ever able to learn how they died.” With that the Resident rose and began to pace back and forth, his ruddy face palpably worried. His young companion gazed re- flectively at the river. “Bhir,” mused Cunningham aloud, “‘is at- tracting miscreants and malcontents. who believe that we fear to send a magistrate there. They think the proprietor-ghost is friendly to them, and hostile to us kafirs— unbelievers, you know. The mystery is still unsolved, and unless we can occupy the castle Bhir may become the keystone in an arch reared against our rule in northern India. “Anticipating your natural questions, Captain Malcolm,” he resumed, “I will add that none of the neighboring rajas is un- friendly to us. Nor have the people of .Bhir displayed untoward feelings openly. The ghost alone stands revealed as our enemy. ‘“‘And now, my dear Captain Malcolm,” he concluded, ‘‘what do you make of the tale of Jaswat Das?” John Malcolm, who had not spoken until then, shrugged square shoulders. Two years before he had led the first embassy from the company into Persia; and at that time he was known as a veteran of Se- ringapatam. COmiclbook CO