Adventure Magazine Cover — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

a The Radio Ray deadly—a poison unknown to Western toxicology. There was silence in the room. Sesson could not speak; Sinclair did not wish to. The younger man could only hold Laulee as tightly yet as gently as he could as if feel- ing that all he loved were slipping away from him, he would try to prevent the going. 85 “My lord, I was and am unworthy. For- get me and find a woman of thine own race to be the mother of thy children. Yet,” her voice trailed off until Sesson had to bend his ear to her lips, ““yet—yet—my love —and my lord—for this last moment—love me and forget the mem-log—and kiss me— a long kiss—farewell.”’ “Radio Ray KENNETH GILBERT. Author of ‘“Heart‘of the Crew,” “Lights of Peace,’ etc. NSPECTOR JERRY LYNCH, Immigration Service, entered ) the administration building with an unusual nervous springiness to his customary brisk step; a serious, thoughtful expression on his keen, rather dark face indicating that something of importance was on his mind. This last- named was usual enough, for, while bearing the title of immigration inspector, Jerry was really the head of the. service’s sleuths in this district. Despite the fact that he was but twenty- seven, his training as a police detective had been so thorough and his work had met with such success that he had been induced to accept Government pay, for the flood of contraband Chinese slipping into the United States through the Government’s fingers in this district had reached such propor- tions as to draw a frosty query from the head of the department to the local immi- eration officials. And so Jerry, because he was familiar with the crooked streets and lanes of the quarter where the illicit immigrants in- variably turned up, to say nothing of knowing every habitué of the city’s Chinese quarter to a disconcerting degree, had been successfully importuned to act as a stop- gap. For three months he had been at work, and as yet there had been apparently no diminution of the stream of chattering Celestials. So far all he had gained out of his new job was a lowered respect for his ability as a sleuth, a contempt for politics and a heightened admiration for the men who had evolved the smooth system which baffled him. He went directly to the office of the acting chief, Dobson, heralding his approach with no more than a tap on the door which separated the official’s space from the outer area. Dobson was quite in the extreme of what is known in the military curriculum as “at ease.” His feet were on a corner of his desk, and he leaned back in his chair comfortably, so profoundly wrapped in his morning paper that he was oblivious to Jerry’s arrival. Haight, the secretary, a dapper, (C@ S AMIELAOW) (E@