Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

Shattered Altars Way before yesterday, while on guard, I intercepted a note intended for old Juan written in Tagalog. It contained the words “Tglesa” and “‘Bunduk nang Kao,” connected by a crudely drawn serpent. When old Juan escaped as the guard was being changed yesterday I showed the note to Lieutenant Morphy and he gave me permission to cut my way to the top of the Bunduk. He evidently was trapped by Juan in the church last night, where the wily old devil had taken refuge after his escape, killing the Spanish padre and taking his place at the altar.”’ ‘How do ye know he was trapped?” The major’s excitement was increasing. Morey hesitated a minute, then stepped to his cot and drew forth the belt and side arms of the missing officer of the day, hand- ing them to the major. They were blood- stained. | | ‘“‘T found these beside the body of the old priest when I came through the church early this morning, sir.” The major bent his head over the belt to hide his agony. “Vis, yis, ga on me bye.”’ : “When I arrived at the end of the path I cut yesterday I was just in time to wit- ness a rehearsal that made my blood run cold. The priests of the Katipunan are preparing to offer a human sacrifice at their conclave and the lieutenant, their intended offering, Is now swaying from the roof of an underground bowl hollowed from the solid lava, his heels just out of reach of the biggest snake I ever saw. She’s coiled like a cone around her eggs and hopping mad. The floor of the bowl is covered with a slimy mass of her progeny of different ages, none large enough to raise themselves over the edge of their prison.”’ “The major will understand why it is necessary to use caution when I tell him that I worked part way around the bowl by the light of an air hole that must break the surface somewhere near headquarters, only to discover old Juan and that Jamaica nigger wife of his squatted at the end of the rope where it was drawn back from the pulley overhead ready to chop it ,t the first sign of an attack and let the heutenant fall into that mess of writhing horrors.” ‘‘Howly sufferin’ cats! ’Tis a fix they’ve got poor Larry in, but I’ll till ye this, thot if Juan de Jesus, the auld ——, as much as harms a hair o’ me _ bye’s 139 hid, I'll feed him snakes, big wans, till be- him, the he'll wisht he was a roastin’ in fore he iver was bor-rn! curse 0’ e The major checked his rising voice sud- denly. He was in a tight corner, and that bit of cunning that lies latent in every son of the Emerald Isle till called forth by deep distress, warned him to step softly lest he further endanger his son’s life. The old boy was as cool as ice as he thanked Morey and told him to call the adjutant. Following the conference there was a quiet shifting of the guard lines to enclose the old church on the outskirts of the town, and the post settled down to its usual rou- tine. THE Moreys, Peter and his twin, Ray, asked for and obtained a pass to visit Manila, leaving immediately after breakfast and returning early in the afternoon when all of the native popula- tion had settled down for their siesta. They did not report at headquarters but hurried to the guard-house, carrying a small black box and a haversack packed to its utmost dimension. A few minutes later they made their way stealthily up the path cut the night before and soon were busy as cats in a strange garret on and around the scaffolding. As dusk fell Peter shinned half way up the big bamboo, affixed a small block pul- ley and rove through it a half-inch manila rope, letting both ends drop to the ground, where his brother tied them to the foot of the tree. The small box was set firmly in place a short distance away and covered carelessly with a wisp of cogon grass. Then they worked their way down to the guard- house and supper. All that day the major sat at his desk, staring out at Bunduk nang Kao. From time to time his lips moved quietly as if in prayer, and an occasional soft click told of the hands nervously telling over the beads of his rosary. Larry, his only son, his only close. relative left, was in danger, and a danger that only cunning could circumvent. That was the hardest thing of all—to sit quietly waiting, watching, while some- where within a stone’s throw, his son was swinging to and fro, as that arch-enemy of all Americans, Juan de Jesus, and his negress wife, gently pulled the rope that cComicoooks C@