Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

80 us and egg us on at the same time. Some- thing up his sleeve, perhaps.”’ “Can’t tell. But his line of talk rings true so far. Checks up all right with what we’ve heard about the Mayorunas and so on. And that scheme of working in through the Mayoruna country sounds about as sensible as anything. Desperate chance and all that, but it might work. Say, why did you kick me when I was going to tell him you’d been in British GuianaP” “Don’t know exactly. Had a hunch. Seems to me I’ve seen that fellow before somewhere, but I can’t place him. None of his business where I’ve been, anyhow. We're boobs from the States hunting for a wild man. That’s all he needs to know.” But it was not enough for Schwandorf to know. At that very moment he was on his way to the home of Superintendent Cabral, with whom he had no engagement whatever, to learn all he could concerning ‘the business of these military-appearing strangers; also to impress on that official the fact that he had sought to dissuade them from starting on their mad quest. And much later that night, when Knowl- ton was making good his boast that he was a sound sleeper, a black-bearded face rose silently above the iron partition between his room and that of the German. A hand gripping a small electric flashlight followed. A white ray searched the room, halting on the khaki shirt lying over a box. A tough withe with a barb at one end came over like a slender tentacle, hooked the shirt neatly, drew it stealthily up to the top. Shirt, stick, lamp, hand, face all dissolved into darkness. After a time they reappeared. The shirt came down, swung slowly back and forth, was dropped deftly where it had previously lain. The breast pocket holding the grain-leather notebook and the photograph of David Dawson Rand was _ buttoned as it had been, and the notebook bulged the cloth slightly as before. But the con- tents of that book and the pictured face of Rand now were stamped on the brain of Schwandorf. A sneering, snarling smile curled the heavy mouth of Schwandorf. And softly, so softly that none could hear it but himself, sounded the ironical bene- diction of Schwandorf: “Sleep well, offizier americanisch! Sleep on, poor fool! In time you will wake up. Ja, you will wake up!” Adventure CHAPTER V INTO THE BUSH LEEPY-EYED and frowsy-haired, with shirt unbuttoned and breeches and boots unlaced, Tim emerged from his iron- walled cell into the cool-shadowed main room, blinked at McKay and Knowlton lounging over their morning coffee and cigarets, stretched his hairy arms and advanced sluggishly to the table. ““Yow-oo-hum!” he yawned. ‘“‘Ain’t they cute! All dressed and shaved like they was goin’ to visit the C. O. And here’s pore Timmy Ryan lookin’ like a ‘drunk and dirty’ jest throwed into the guard-house, and feelin’ worse. Top o’ the mornin’ to ye, gents!” “Same to you, Tim,’”? McKay nodded. “Who hit your” asked Knowlton, squint- ing at bumps and scratches on Tim’s fore- head. “Nobody. Couple fellers tried to, but they was out o’ luck. Oh, I see what ye mean. I done that meself while I was gittin’ to bed.” “Waves must have been running high on the ocean last night. Better drink some coffee. Thomaz, another cup—big and black.”’ “Thanks, looey. ’I'was kind of an active night, at that.” “T heard you come in,’ vouchsafed McKay. ‘“‘Were you trying some high diving in your room?” “Faith, I done some divi’ without tryin’, but ‘twas ragged work. I pulled a belly- smacker every time. I got to tame that hammick o’ mine. It throwed me four times hand-runnin’, and the only way I could hold it down was to unhook it and lay it on the floor.” “Sleep well then?” “IT did not. Cap, I thought I knowed somethi.1’ about cooties, but I take it back —I never knowed nothin’ about them insecks till last night. Where they come from I dunno, but I'll tell the world they come, and if they wasn’t half an inch long I'll eat ’em. They darn near dragged me off whole, and all the sleep I got ye could stick in a flea’s eye. Lookit here.”’ He extended an arm dotted with swollen red spots. “Ants!” said McKay, after one glance. ‘Ants, not cooties. They’re everywhere. Especially under the floor. That’s one ) COmiclbooks Cc C@