Adventure Magazine Cover — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

The People of the Fourth Dimension not be able to speak what she wished so wildly to say. And she was very tired, growing weak, and the humility of India’s women was upon her. “My boy,” Sinclair’s voice was very gentle. “I was sorry to put you to all this, but I saw no other course. I spoke truly when I told you that this matter was my only problem and that I did not know with | whom you were dealing. Now I do know— the words my enemy spoke as he died hav- ing told me—told me what I never guessed at, would not have credited. “For some»years I have felt an obstacle in my work and gradually it came to me, partly by intuition, that this unknown obstacle was a very clever man, or men, with but one object in life—my death. Far too cunning to chance a shot at me in the street or to employ any of the usual methods of the assassin, this obstacle was always near and I knew that some day he, or they, would find what appeared a sure way of killing me “Tt was not so much the danger of death that annoyed me—it was the eternal nui- sance of having to take this obstacle into account whenever I planned anything at all. Before undertaking any task I had carefully to guard against the sudden cessation of all my work. “Tf I could have obtained a tangible sign, the evidence of a single overt act, I felt capable of grappling with the man. But there was nothing I could come to grips with. The entire danger was as vague as the fourth dimension. “T admit it began to get on my nerves, for I am not a young man. With all the power—no slight power, as you know—l command I began to institute counter-mea- sures against this unseen, unknown enemy, but as I said, it was like trying to put hand- cuffs on a mathematical X. Then, to my intense surprize—for, as you also know, I never allow any reports to be brought to me concerning the private affairs of my friends—you told me of your weird experi- ence. Then, relieved, I knew that at last the battle was opening. I felt’easily capable of winning. “Much as I disliked doing so, I had to trick you with my ‘people of the fourth di- mension.’ Since the enemy was keeping your mind from the truth I was compelled to take the same stand. You can see why. “To use you against.me was the best 83 card he could have played. And it was all so subtly clever. He knew of my deafness to all reports of your acts when not actu- ally on duty. When on duty it is necessary to know what you are doing, in the event of your needing sudden support. He banked on my knowing nothing of, er, the lady. I didn’t know until you told me. “Then he knew our racial horror of dis- cussing such a private matter. He had reasons for feeling quite safe. It was hardly to be expected that you would say any- thing to me. But a certain distrust of— never mind the name—nullified the early suggestion given you. You have forgotten, but you were ordered, when ‘in the ink,’ not to mention either the ink or the lady to me. You broke through this inhibition—an unusual feat—and told me. “You were no doubt asked seemingly light questions in the beginning. Had you spoken to Sinclair? ‘Slowly he became sure of you and of his revenge. The thing had to be gone through with to the bitter end An old arrange- ment of mirrors—don’t you remember the living woman, showed in little theaters when you were a boy, whose existence ap- parently ended at her waist? All mirrors, cleverly arranged, made it appear that I lay facing you when he whom you believed to be your friend ordered you to shoot—to avenge ‘me, likely as not?” Sesson groaned an affirmative. “Don’t let it trouble you. It’s all over and I am in your debt. You sacrificed yourself and your pride to help me. It was’ a big brave thing to do. And, oh yes, as he died he told me— Back to the Mutiny this thing goes. Years ago, as you know, I found where the British women and chil- dren had been incarcerated—underground Calcutta. ‘“‘We smashed that den, and as I believed caught every person affiliated with its rulers, in every city in India. But one man es- caped us and I did not know it.» He hated everything British with a hatred we can not understand. + Eh, well—was he respon- sible? I doubt it. I think this tells you all. Boy, we touched history tonight, and the breed will trouble us no more. “That dead man, as well as hating me for what I was and what I have done and am doing, had further cause: for vindictive- ness. He was the only living son of Nana Sahib!” CORMICLOOOKS (C@