Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

The Making of the Morning Star mail, a crested helmet and a cloak of black silk. They took off Robert’s old khalat and fitted on the mail, slipping the cloak over it and winding his waist with a girdle of cloth of gold. A simitar of blue steel with a hilt set with glittering gems was offered to the knight, and he took it. Still doubtful of the reality of the honor, he gathered up the reins of a white Arab pony with the mane and head of a king’s charger. When he swung into the saddle he flushed with sheer pleasure. “Salaam, bahator,” his companions sa- luted him. Robert raised his sword and took up his rein. Abdullah came to his side. “A slave’s greetings to Iskander,” he cried. ‘May the road of your namesake be open before you.” CHAPTER IX WILL FINDS A BOW Vy some ten thousand staring at him, the new Ameer of Bokhara issued his first commands and watched without seeming to do so to see if each were acknowledged—Abdullah finding great amusement thereby. Robert appointed a conference for the chiefs of the various tribes in the courtyard of the Shah’s palace two hours hence. He called the several atabegs within view to him, and sent one to take immediate charge at every gate of the city. The zmams he requested to draw up lists of the amount of food in the granaries and the total of the weapons stored in the armories. From the crowd he picked out the Turko- man beg who had talked about killing him, and the man knelt with quivering cheeks, evidently expecting that he would be given over to torture. Instead he was bade to select a hundred riders and set out to the east to establish an advanced post beyond sight of the city. Other detachments were ordered off, to patrol the river and caravan tracks beyond the walls. His commands were received with the deepest respect and executed at once. Robert, aware of the mullah at his elbow, turned in his saddle. “O hadji, is it fitting that the leader of your warriors should stretch his cloak in an alley and have the sky for a roof?” The keeper of the temple started, eyed 43 the knight keenly a moment and nodded. gravely. “True. A house shall be made ready in the garden quarter by the river, and slaves = “To this house,” Robert suggested to Osman, ‘‘the blind priest and the archer can be sent before the hour is ended.” The wazir bowed in silence. ‘“‘And the Nazarene maid.” Their eyes met, and the minister of the Shah twisted his fingers i in the pearls that hung from his throat. “Yah khawand! What words are these? In this place? To name a woman before listeners is to ie a follower of the Prophet!” “Yet, O wazir, Iam a Nazarene and a man of my word. If the maid is not placed in this dwelling; unharmed, before the sands have run from the hour-glass I shall open your gate with a thousand spears.” Osman exchanged glances with the mullah and extended both hands open before him. “‘Who am I but the slave of him who has honored you? It shall be as you have said.” Robert watched him out of sight, well aware that he had made at least one bitter enemy. Turning the long ring on his finger, he studied the massive sapphire, cut in the form of a seal, in the gold setting. Then he raised his head and smiled. “‘Here is a riddle, and I would know the answer in true words.” “Command me,” suggested Abdullah promptly, but Robert shook his head. ““Hadj1,” he asked of the mullah, “have you in your house a kamman, a bath where the bathmen are discreet? Then may I be your guest for one-half of the hour?” Surprized, the muliah signed for him to ride to the rear of the mosque, and Abdullah stared after the two thoughtfully. The boy Hassan approached his horse and peered up mockingly. “Lick thy palm, O teller of tales. The cup-companion is the favorite of a day and then—the dust of the rose petal remains to the seller of perfume.” Having launched this shaft the boy darted away and overtook Osman’s palan- quin at the gate of the wazir’s palace, hark- ening with interest to the low-voiced ex- clamations of his patron. “OQ dog of a mongrel pack! O eater of filth! To claim with a loud tongue what was mine! Son of dishonor and father of CONnnicGoOolkxS CO