Adventure Magazine Cover — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

They always run’ orm WG. ee trite to A COMPLETE NOVELE TPE a ‘Pe =f Terdinand Bes Pet TH Pai f a: aR (ly 4 L ey LM We vt ye he f ly yf, Rs he a ANY INS \ > NN A \ hg: Ay * SD = OE. Za = SRV aN Ee LW a i i eo SES nN ie ae oN AY (i Nee FELIS ) Sy & ' mn \ Roa Vip SN iy ‘ : GH Ss EY RK \ Ay pt /} a : iN \\ os %. a Sout Author of “The Man Who Had Only One Eye,” “Slamashla Mani,” etc. HE most miserable man on the platform in the tree changed his position and wearily made to stretch himself. “Darned cold,” he said shuddering. ‘To blazes with this playing dicky-bird all night for the sake of shooting a lion which ain’t willing.” The older, Jimmie, held up a restraining hand. “Keep still, Bertie. beastly noise.” “Vm not making a noise, Jimmie.” “Ves, you are. A lion could hear you talking a mile away.” Tl’ —— with it!” _ The most miserable man subsided grace- lessly with his back to the trunk of the tree and for a while, but for the sounds of the still African night, all was serene. A hyena far away in the hills laughed his unholy laugh and a band of wandering jackals Don’t make such a answered in shrill chorus. At intervals an ~ owl hooted in a near-by tree—hooted a round, eery, hollow call. And the frogs at the water-hole iw the dry river-bed croaked and piped in monotonous, dull duet. A faint, icy breeze wandered along and fluttered the silvery leaves. The leaves in ‘the clear moonlight gleamed and glinted like fairy jewels. And the depths of the trees threw shadows black as the dark inside of sin. The breezes grew stronger and the branches of the tree grated against the platform —grated and rasped and groaned. The uncomfortable Bertie rose as high as the branches above him would allow, and started wearily to stretch once more. shel with it!’ he went on just where he’d left off. “I’m going to get down and get a drink.” “S-s-s-sh!”’ A steadying hand touched his arm. ‘‘S-s-s-sh!’”’ “To blazes with shishing! D’you think I’m going to freeze to death for the sake of scaring some toothless old lion? I’m going over for a drink.” Away in the bush a full mile off the faint light from the single calico ‘‘limbo’’-covered window of the mud-and-thatch trading store glimmered fitfully. And from the store ever and always wandered the jumpy strains of “Selections from Carmen”’ played again and again and still again on an old- fashioned musical-box. “Ym going over for a drink,” Bertie repeated with firm finality as he made to get down. “Nice chance we'll get of ever killing this brute!’ Jimmie asserted disgustedly. ‘Last night you got down about sixty times and went over for a drink. And that blasted Italian keeps that wretched musical-box going all the time, too. The lion isn’t likely 134 S) com Eomichoo