Adventure Magazine Cover, October 1911 — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

Forbidden Treasure CHAPTER XXIII STUART SPEAKS HIS MIND i WAS curious, considering the problem confronting them, that they should look at one another steadily, like bewildered chil- dren, as if the solution of the question were to be found in egch other’s eyes. Stuart found himself gradually becoming conscious of the beauty of her, instead of keeping his mind upon the upsetting discovery she had made. In her eyes, warm golden-brown and clear cool green, lay a very snare of color enchantment fascinating to watch at such close range. Little flecks of softer brown lay here and there among the di- vergent rays spread like a solar halo about the great black eclipse of the mysterious pupil. It was seldom one had an oppor- tunity to make so thorough an investigation of the matter, for so thick and long were the black lashes that guarded these windows of her soul that a man might have looked a hundred times and yet gone on wondering as to their color. Just at the further end of her equally dark eyebrows spread the trac- ings of a fine blue vein, clearly visible through the exquisite whiteness of her tem- ple. ‘“‘‘Like a piece of pomegranate within thy locks,’”? he found himself thinking. ‘** Behold, thou art fair, thou hast dove’s eyes!’” ‘““Now, now!” called the nervous, quick voice of Mr. Lee, ‘‘What are you waiting for? Why don’t you get on, you others?” Stuart came to himself with a start. “I say, Berwind,” he promptly began, “‘this old fossil chart of mine says five hundred feet up the Mountain of Sigurda, and as Miss Lee very sensibly remarks, the whole moun- tain is not so high as that.” Berwind laughed. He came to Stuart’s side and, slipping his arm through his, turned him to face the fiord once more. Dramatically he pointed downward. ‘The River of Snorr did not flow into the River of Halpa at an altitude of four or five hundred feet, my geologist. And the oak tree at the foot of Sigurda, doubtless spread its gener- ous shade by the bank of the river.” He looked whimsically into Stuart’s face and saw that it was reddened by more than the frigid air. ‘Consider the glacier. I am very much afraid you are not paying atten- tion,” he said and bravely smiled. Then he added more softly. ‘“‘But get on, my dear 102] fellow. I must give my patient some medi- cine, I am afraid.” “Very well,”’ said Stuart folding his plan and putting it into his pocket. ‘Weare to start ahead, Miss Lee, with Captain Healy. Berwind is right, of course. We were for- getting that the little River of Snorr has swelled with the cold. Iam afraid my wits did go wool-gathering fora moment. I won- der how many feet thick that glacier is back there. Of course, we must deduct that amount from our measurement.” “Of course!” she cried, disdainful of her own stupidity, but a shade more contemptu- ous of his. ‘‘How simple!” “So it is,’ said Stuart meekly. course, we are now above the Red Rock instead of somewhat below it. The question is now whether the glacier has not risen above the entrance to the cave and so cut us off effectually.” Her indifferent manner suddenly returned to her. Perhaps she realized that in her distraction of the moment past she had allowed him a more friendly approach than she was prepared to maintain. She turned up the collar of her fur coat negligently. “The question is rather, I should think, what could be more absurd than this wild- goose chase, in any event. And I don’t for one moment believe there is any cave there at all, do you?”’ He felt incomprehensibly hurt. ‘““No, I dare say not,” he answered. ‘They started forward in silence, the snow crunching dully beneath their feet. Captain Healy, the rope wound in a great coil slung over one shoulder, followed them, but his eyes glanced back continually to see why the others lingered. Avie) IT WAS not quite a mile to where | Sm Sigurda rose, a blackened and trun- cated cone; but it seemed to Stuart they had come an endless distance and through endless silence before Nora stopped with a- little ‘‘Pouff!” and asked coldly, “‘TIsn’t this the place?”’ “Tf we are onthe right track, it should be,”’ replied Stuart in the same tone. He with- drew a few paces from her as if to assure her he had no intention of boring her with the wearisome details and unfolded the tracing of the bell again. But it seemed that this did not please my lady either. ‘‘I must say, Mr. Stuart,’’ she remarked, ‘“‘that one would think no one but C© “Of MICLOOOKS CO