Adventure Magazine Cover — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

164 looking curiously at the pistol still grasped in his master’s cramped hand. “Sahib,” he said, ‘“‘while thou didst sleep I heard some one call from the tower. I know not what it was, for the words were neither Hindustani, nor Turki nor English. So, as thou didst, I ran into the castle to the tower stairs. Yet when I came to the win- dow that looks out on the terrace I be- thought me that this might be a trick to sep- arate us, and I stayed at the window, watch- ing and listening. ‘Sahib, it was only a moment before I heard a man breathing very near. It was not behind me but in front of me. So l looked out, very carefully. And my face was within a foot-of the face of the demon, who crouched felow the window with his feet on the vines and his fingers on the stone ledge of the opening. I struck quickly with my sword, but he was more swift and dropped to the terrace. The window was too-small for me to climb through and by the time I reached the terrace by way of the castle door he was gone. aeuy is he a thing of the night.” Malcolm read in the man's eyes that he was telling the truth. He saw now how the visitor had eluded them on the previous night, waiting probably crouched against the tower wall in the shadow until they had left the terrace, when he had slid down easily, breaking the vine in the process. *‘So,” he thought, “my friend the demon is very small in body, is quite fearless, has a sense of humor and—speaks Portuguese.” “Sahib,” concluded Rawul Singh gravely, “from this hour thou and I must keep to- gether and one of us must always watch. I am afraid that the demon overheard our speech of the thugs.” IV aco -ALI KHAN was as heavy as a buf- $-% | falo and as light on his feet ‘as a pan- ther. He was of Afghan blood and his father had been a rokurrea—a profes- sional carrier of money. His grandfather had been a Said, so good Moslem blood ran in the veins of Ali Khan. A square jet-black beard was his pride, with @ brace of silver-chased Turkish pistols and a Persian sword that curved nearly to his heels. Ali Khan was a bold man and boastful, likewise crafty. It was for these reasons that Rawul Adventure Singh had picked the Afghan ten days be- fore they heard the voice in the jungle for the chit-bearer, to go to Cunningham sa/ib. Being an Afghan, the soldier was not one of the men of Bhir; being son of a hereditary messenger, Ali Khan, was reasonably faith- ful to a trust—when he swore on the Ko- ran, as he had done in the rear of a winc- shop in the Bhir bazaar before Rawul Singh. “Send a child, Rajput,” the Afghan had gibed. ‘The task is not worthy of me.” “Thou wilt not think so when I tell thee there will be thugs behind thee and per- haps before.” “Ho!” Ali Khan had fingered his beard. “‘Aho-ho-o. Well, I will go, and to Jeha- num with all thugs, dacoits and slay- ers “Ass!” Rawul Singh’s sibilant warning had cut him short. ‘There be thugs about us now. Do not join company with any on the road; travel by day, and if thou dost esteem thy bull-neck dismount not from thy horse on the road; sleep in the jungle at night and then only after crossing the river——” So had Rawul Singh spoken, as quietly as he might, but sharp ears had heard the boast of Ali Khan and before the big Af- ghan flung his weight upon his horse a rider had slipped out of the bazaar and passed up the Jumna highway toward Agra. Obedient to his instructions, Ali Khan rode swiftly until dusk the first day; then he swam his horse across the river, picketed it in a mango grove and snored peacefully until dawn. Regaining the highway, he pressed on, the letter of Captain Malcolm concealed in a fold of his turban. Passage through the jungle bypaths from village to village was more dangerous than the main road where merchant caravans, parties of soldiers and peasants were usually within sight. <A group of a dozen poverty-stricken Hindus besought the protection of the Afghan on their journey. Ali Khan grinned and bade them be off, saving that the smell of a Hindu irked him. Toward evening that day when he was hot and thirsty a party of Moslem cloth- traders bound for Agra overtook him and invited him to camp with them that night and share their fire. ‘Bismillah!’ Ali Khan eyed them sharp- ly; they seemed wealthy and peaceable; COmiclbook CO