Adventure Magazine Cover — page 143: what you’re looking at

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

The Road an American’s word?”’ cried Agnew. “‘ What of them? What of your own honor?”’ Gresham’s face flushed slowly. “I don’t know that I’d given them a thought,” he admitted. ‘“‘No—I’ve never gone back on my word, Agnew. Perhaps I’d hardly better begin.” A deprecating cough echoed at his shoul- der. He wheeled. Vilip, clean and re- clothed, was confronting him. ‘“‘T was wondering if I might suggest a little ointment for the signor’s bruises?’”’ explained the valet. ‘“‘The signor fell heavily.”’ Gresham nodded. “But not so heavily as he—might have fallen, Vilip,” he an- swered, “‘if Mr. Agnew had not—spoken.”’ Vilip looked interrogative. ‘‘Spoken?”’ he repeated with a slight air of bewilder- ment. “Spoken?” : “He acted—magnificently,” said Gres- ham, “‘but I was in danger of falling again, it seems. And he spoke. Now it’s up to me to act!”’ CHAPTER XVII THE THREAT OF THE HILLS “TT IS TO be noted,” said Vilip, “that we are not the first to visit these high- lands within the week.’’ Gresham looked round. Accompanied by Agnew and as- sisted by the iron thews of Jovan and Vilip, he had ascended the ridge which overlooks the ravine of the Slivnitz. Three thousand feet below, the river roared over the remains of the wrecked bridge. A tiny spider-like object which passed to and fro showed where the cradle ran across the void the bridge had left. Agnew made a gesture in assent to Vilip’s remark and pointed to a snowdnft—a remnant of the past Winter’s wrath. Across it ran the imprint of footsteps. There had been heavy rains not three days before. The traveler, whoever he was, had passed since then. “What of it?”? asked Gresham. hills are free to all.” “Free, but not attractive, signor,’’ said Vilip deferentially. ‘‘What should bring a man here? It is peculiar, signor. But I eae no explanation. I only mention the act.” He withdrew into the background, fa- vored by a tiny nod of approval from Jovan. “Ene d 899 Gresham and Agnew advanced across the sloping plateau which led to the edge of the crag. As they reached it Gresham turned and looked back. For a full minute he was silent as the echoes. Then he flung up his hand and pointed toward the tiered ter- races of stone. ‘There is our difficulty and there is its cure!”’ he cried. ‘Avalanches? Could one expect anything else? We have built our bridge beneath the rubbish-shoot of the mountain!”’ Agnew’s eyes followed the direction of his employer’s finger and for the first time became aware of a pregnant fact. The surrounding acres of rock sloped from their feet by increasing gradients to the yet steeper slope of the mountainside. But their formation—and this was what he had not noted before—was that of a huge tri- angle. Gresham and he stood at a point which corresponded to the handle of a Titanic fan. But the gradient was so barely perceptible, the spread of the widening slopes so gradual, that the point might have escaped notice but for the peculiar shadow flung by the early morning light. It was indeed as Gresham said. To where they stood the forces of gravity would slowly and uninterruptedly propel fifty per cent. of the Winter’s collection of snow. It was a great shoot and the valley below was the ash-pit. The bridge, incidentally, hung directly in the path of the fall. Gresham began to laugh with enjoyment. Agnew’s face was a study in self-contempt, yet, at the same time, was lit with relief. He made a little sound of disgust. “And I called myself an engineer and this escaped me!” he cried. “We have to move the bridge on, say a quarter of a mile, and we avoid the danger! That is what you mean?” “That is why Sanders did not trouble to elaborate the point to me,” said Gresham. “The solution was easy. The deviation was merely a matter of yards, rather than miles. Other avalanches may fall—may even fall upon the bridge after it is moved. But they will be merely offshoots, and of snow, not of the ice packed under pressure by its concentration in this groove. Well—there is one of our difficulties, and a great one, passed!”’ He walked on another fifty or sixty yards. He halted and pointed below him. COmiclbook ©