Adventure Magazine Cover — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

124 XX | “NOW that’s darned funny,” said “ye | Billy in a low tone as, the middle KA of the square being empty, we turned off. “How did that son-of-a-gun get loose?” ‘“‘Same as us, I guess,” I retorted. ‘He can talk like a native, and he passed as one for years.” “But what’s he up to anyway? I mean in there?” “Search me,” said I. ‘How should I know? But he must have recognized us. Why did he refuse to speak?” “The point is, where are the others? You never know. He may be working to get "em loose, too. He mav not have known us in this Berber get-up. He may Ze “Skut!’’ (Shut up) I whispered as a party oi Arabs came toward us, and added in Arabic, “‘let us go to the crowd yonder.” We strolled slowly over and into a market being held on the far side of the square. As we wandered silently through the crowd we saw several negroes standing upon blocks evidently slaves for sale. As I ran my eyes along them I jerked Billy’s sleeve to come away, for I had recognized two of our personal servants standing chained and looking very miser- able. But I feared that should they see us they might give away our identity by some appeal for help. Farther along was another crowd. We approached it cautiously, attracted by some one volubly holding forth like a soap- box politician. As we came nearer I pricked up my ears at the repeated mention of “Infidel” and ‘“‘doctor.”” We lingered on the outskirts and listened. The man was Doc Seeger’s boy. We pushed and elbowed our way closer; and then I got a shock, for, squatting on the ground, was the doc himself. I nudged Billy, thinking— “Darnation, the whole gang seems to have broken loose; but we—well, we were loose, too, in a way, but we have lost Fieldmorre.”’ Billy had seen, and we edged still closer until we were in the second rank of the crowd. The doc’s boy was holding forth about the generosity of the Sultan Gandhi, who had taken under his protection the infidel doctor, who had, according to the law, been pardoned for his ignorance, as Adventure he had consented to become a Moham- medan— Under all this bunk—which I guessed right away meant that the Gandhi was going to try to kid the doctor into being his own medical advisor, instead of trusting to mix- tures of medieval surgery and magic—the doc, whose knowledge of Arabic was of the slightest, sat grinning amiably without a notion of what was being said. Unable to speak, Billy and I concentrated our gaxe on him, trying to catch his eye, but it was some time before he would cease smirking in every direction except ours. At last he did, and I saw the idiot start in surprize. But a finger on my lips kept him quiet until he had time to think things out. Almost imperceptibly I gestured to get away somehow, and he got it. He seemed pretty free, for immediately he rose, and in broken Arabic told his man he wanted to go home. The boy, being fond of his own voice and the attention his charge was exciting, con- tinued yapping for a while; but when the doc grew insistent, obeyed, clearing a way, with many insulting jests at the unconscious “convert,” through the crowd. We fol- lowed, of course, and also the usual crowd. He made for a small gate in the palace wall not far away, giving us a look as he went in. We dawdled about, but to our disgust so did several of the overcurious, just the same way as our own folk will stare till their eyeballs ache at the house where the latest murder has been com- mitted. As we waited, suddenly the drums and wailing pipes broke out quite near us. “We'd better get a taxi,’ whispered Billy, “or we won’t get a seat.” About twenty minutes later I saw that the small wicket window in the gate was opened slightly. Evidently the doc was peeking out to see if we were there and the road was clear. At last, although there were still half a dozen idiots loafing about, I whispered to Billy— “Let’s lounge against the door as if we were born tired, and maybe if the doc’s there he’ll let us slip in.” By degrees we edged over and squatted down on the threshold. Presently we heard the breathing of some one on the other side and the creak of the window door, and the doc’s voice said: “Oh, my ——, is that really you chaps?” COMmicaoo® S (©