Adventure Magazine Cover — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

The Village of the Ghost When he was not in attendance on Mal- colm, the Seot noticed that his follower spent hours in casting about through the. jungle around the village, and that when- ever Malcolm went to survey the boundary | lines, Rawul Singh made a thorough search of the hillsides. Furthermore the Rajput reported that he had tried to find in the village the servant of the potail who had lied to him about the fate of his daughter. But the man was not to be found. And the lips of the bheestie who had warned Rawul Singh were sealed by fear. So no trace was found of Tala, although Rawul Singh was convinced that the girl could not have been conveyed from the dis- trict of Bhir without his knowing it. Taking all this into consideration, Mal- colm believed that the man who called him- self or was called the ghost had Tala in his keeping, and that both were very cleverly hidden in one spot that all Malcolm’s sur- veying and Rawul Singh’s search could not locate. - This spot might well be a rendezvous of the worshipers of Kali, who, having en- joyed unlimited power in the rich district of Bhir, now sought the extermination of the English magistrates. Before many days had passed Malcolm fell sick. The Scot had grown pale and his eyes were heavy. He was listless at times, al- though he never ceased his work. His or- ders were to assume the duties of magis- trate, and he went about the work of mea- suring the boundaries, taking the census and holding a criminal court. Malcolm’s condition puzzled himself. He had no fever; the water and air were good; Rawul Singh, who feared poison, gathered their food in the village, taking pains to select his own rice and flour and to kill his meat by hunting. One day the Rajput absented himself and returned with a lean, dirty native, naked ex- cept for a loin cloth and turban. It was an old man, watery of eye, who trembled in the presence of the English officer. **This is Cheetoo, the bheestie,’’ explained Rawul Singh. ‘And he will eat of the food we share and sleep without thy door. Thus if thou hast a plague, we will know of it, be- cause either he will catch it or he will confess what is the evil that attacks thee. If he re- ’ fuses I shall cut out his liver.” 159 Cheetoo’s trembling increased and he looked around fearfully. “O Sun of Benevolence,” he cried, “‘do not make me sleep within the castle.” “There is nothing here to harm thee,” said Malcolm impatiently. He was irritated by his own indisposition. Cheetoo glanced at the ruins and renewed his pleading. “‘Peace!’”? muttered the. Rajput, aside. “Twenty silver rupees wilt thou have, son of a pig, if the sakib gets well. If he dies, thy liver will be fed to the jackals as I prom- ised. Do not think to escape, for thou knowest I will hunt thee down In this manner Malcolm’s party increased to three. The dheestie, torn between fear of the castle and dread of Rawul Singh—covet- ing the unexampled wealth of silver rupees and tormented by visions of what might happen to his own organs—Cheetoo went so far as to urge Malcolm to pitch his tent out- side the walls and to shun the interior of the ruins. The Scot took this as an attempt to get him to give up his quarters in the home of the rajas and lose dignity thereby. Rawul Singh whetted his sword and looked mean- ingly at the native’s bare limbs. “In the village bazaar,” chattered the bheestze mournfully, “it is said that the sahib’s breath is in his nostrils. He will soon be dead.”’ Malcolm had noticed how the natives stared at him and whispered behind his back. He had expected resistance when he collected the revenues from the land-holders and the wealthier merchants; no one in this hostile province withstood him, but the eyes that looked into his were covertly mocking. It got on his nerves—which few things did. He had expected to find an antago- nist in the castle; he found no one. In the first week of his stay he had nearly been slain by a clever trick of his invisible foes. And now the sickness was gaining on him. His head throbbed and his sight was blurred. It was harder than ever to sleep. IIT & ONE night he wakened at a slight sound near his head. Sleeping lightly as’ he did, he was fully con- scious on the instant. Soft, regular breath- ing mingled with a. rasping snore from the open doorway of his chamber assured him Comicbook ©