Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 144: what you’re looking at

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

134 be satisfied—if the Great Spirit wills it, as I think He does.” He would not step indoors for food, but insisted on walking back toward the Broad- Way with Master Burnet and me. At the Bowling Green we encountered Peter Cor- laer. His huge belly waggled before him with the energy of ‘his pace, and he was quite out of breath. “Ha, Peter,’ the governor hailed him. ‘“‘Well met, indeed. What hath earned us this honor?” “YT heardt Ta-wan-ne-ars was here,” he panted. “I followedt him down-rifer from Fort Orange.” “What does Corlaer wish?” asked Ta- wan-ne-ars. The big Dutchman stammered and gurgled with embarrassment. “T go with you,” he gasped after much effort. “But you know not whither I go,” Ta-wan-ne-ars. ‘‘Wherefer gO. matter.” “T go to the Land of Lost Souls.” “Ja, that’s all righdt,”’ returned Corlaer. “T go with you.” “Take him, Ta-wan-ne-ars,”’ advised the governor. ‘“’Tis a friend you may depend upon who will follow you a week’s journey for the privilege of securing your assent to the risking of his life in your service.” oy face were softened by a rare glow of feeling. “Ta-wan-ne-ars never doubted Corlaer, Ga-en-gwa-ra-go,” he answered, squeezing Peter’s hand in his. “He would not ask any to go with him because the peril is great. But he will be glad to have Peter by his side. We will take the first boat which leaves.” “One is sailing from der Whale’s Headt said~ you Idt does not THE hard lines of the Seneca’s stern wharf,” suggested Peter. “Good. Then we will say good-by here.”’ “No, no, we will accompany you to the wharf,” said: the governor. “Where are you from, Peter?”’ “T was in der Shawnees’ country when I heardt Taswan-ne-ars was going upon a long journey alone. So I go to De-o-nun- da-ga-a, andt from there to Fort Orange andt here.” “Have you heard aught of Black Robe Adventure since the burning of La Vierge du Bois?” ‘He was in der country of der Miamis this Spring, they saidt.” “And Murray?” “Nein, Murray is nefer spoken of. Der French would hafe none of him. They saidt he salled from Quebec for der Ha- fana.”’ -“So are the mighty fallen, governor as we stroNed along. 9 mused the ‘‘A few “short months ago he was more powerful than I in the province. Today he is no- body.” ‘Beg yer pardons, sirs,’’ wheezed a voice behind us, ‘“‘but the tapman at the Whale’s Head Tavern yonder said as how one o’ ye was Master Ormerod.” The speaker was a tarry, grizzled sailor- man, with three fingers slashed off his left hand. He touched his cap knowingly, and ranged up beside us. “T am Master Ormerod,” I told him. “Ah, yessir. Thanky, sir.” He eyed me keenly. “Tt’s the face and the figger, right enough. I’d ha’ knowed you anywheres.”’ “Where have I seen you before?” I in- quired with surprize. ‘‘Never laid eyes on me, you ain’t, sir— nor me on you,” he returned promptly. “What is it you want then?” I reached into my pocket, thinking per- haps the man was a beggar. "Twas my lucky day, I reflected, and ’twould be churl- ish to deny help to one in want. “T won’t be refusin’ o’ a pan o’ rum like,” he responded with a grin. ‘But my busi- ness was to give ye this.” | And he produced from the inside of his jacket an oblong package wrapped in canvas. ‘Here y’are, sir.” He thrust it into my grasp, fisted the shilling I offered him and made off at speed into a convenient alley. I called after him, but he only cast a look over his shoulder and took to his heels. ‘Examine the package,” said the gover- nor. “’Tis a queer gifta man will not wait to see appraised.” Beneath the canvas was a wrapping of oiled silk, and within that one of heavy lin- en. As this fell away our eyes were blinded by a dazzling heap of red and white stones linked with bars of gold. ‘“‘A necklace of rubies and diamonds,” opined Master Burnet. ‘Spoil of the Indies.” 9 DOOLK C@