Adventure Magazine Cover — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

NOV:30:-192I1 VOL: XXXI-NO-G tw Vellaw Treasure” T WAS getting on for eight years since I had seen old Mandarin Campbell; and now, as I followed his Chinese servant through the big teak-wood doors into the anteroom of his library, I reflected that our inter- view was not likely to be a pleasant one. When I was a little boy he had always terrified me with his long yellow face and his trembling, clawlike hands; as I grew bigger, he had disgusted me by tips, not of good old United States currency, but of funny chunks of Chinese gold, which my father used to stick in the safe as curios; and our last interview—when I was going East to college—certainly hadn’t improved my impression of him. On the night of my departure my father had been,called to his house on business connected with the sale of the Green Star Line; which he was being forced to sell; and I had to say good-by to him in this same library, with old Campbell sitting in his carrying-chair fingering the documents that stood for the blasting of my father’s for- tune, and grinning at the scene as if his forty years in the East had made his mind Chinese as well as his appearance and habits. —“Vellow Treasure,” copyright, 1921, by F. R. Buckley. Copyright, 1921, by The Ridgway Company, in the United States and Great Britain. ‘Complete © = race. ovelette SY F-R: BUCKLEY Now, returned to San Francisco after demobilization from the -rank of ensign in the naval reserve, I had been calling at his house for six months, while I searched the town for work, and he had never even ac- knowledged my existence; until tonight, when his niece had just taken the last ray of hope from my situation by saying that she would cheerfully make up to me my lack of sisters, but that marriage was quite out of the question. I hadn’t objected to old Campbell’s rude- ness as such. I hadn’t gone to the house to see him, and anyhow he was celebrated for his hermit-like seclusion in the library-wing of his palace on the hill, a seclusion which dated from before my ‘father’s memory. Great teak-wood doors, carved all over with the faces of devils, shut off this wing from the rest of the house, which nowadays was tenanted only by Alison White and an army of servants; and passage through those doors was strictly forbidden to all who had not old Campbell’s express invitation; which, as I remembered from the days when I used to play kids’ games with Alison, was extended and refused with an extraordinary whimsicality. Fat men in white waistcoats and top-hats, All rights reserved. 3 Comniclooolkks corn