Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

Om capable of discovering even the secret moves of McGregor. The odds were therefore ten to one that he knew exactly who was sitting in the carriage facing him. He certainly would know as soon as he should see Diana; for Samding had read the name “Qmmony” on Diana’s collar in Chutter Chand’s shop. The letter from the lama had been deliv- ered to Mrs. Cornock-Campbell’s house, which was proof of careful shadowing, if of nothing else. Benjamin was the lama’s secret agent as well as more or less openly his man of business. Viewed in all its bearings, it would be almost a miracle if the lama did not at least suspect the real identity of the Bhat-Brahman who sat chewing betel- nut in front of him. ' And the lama now had the piece of jade for which ostensibly he had come all the way to Delhi. Moreover, he had known where it was, at least for several hours. -- Then why did he continue to submit to being spied on? Why had}}he not, for in- stance, stepped into the carriage and driven away, leaving Ommony on the sidewalk out- side Vasantasena’s? If the lama really did know who was sitting in the carriage with him the mystery was increased rather than clarified. One possible solution was that he intended to do murder at his own convenience. And now there was the problem of Dawa Tsering and the dog. He might have left the dog with McGre- gor and have had Dawa Tsering confined in the jail, but he would have lost two im- portant allies by doing it. A man with a “knife” and a dog with a terrific set of teeth might turn out to be as good as guardian angels. On the other hand, the lama might be planning to disappear along the mysterious “Middle Way,” that baffles all detection. If so the dog and Dawa Tsering might be exceedingly useful in tracing him. If the offer to send Samding with a message were not a trick it would at least acquaint the dog thoroughly with Samding’s smell. Finally, as the carriage dawdled through the sunbaked, thronging streets, Ommony reached the conclusion that he had been guided by intuition when he gave orders to Dawa Tsering. A man who has lived in a forest for the greater part of twenty years and has studied native life and nature in the raw as methodically as Ommony had III done, achieves a faith in intuition that per- sists in the face of much that is called evidence. He decided to carry on, at least one step further, trusting again to intuition that assured him he was not in serious dan- ger and wondering whether the lama was not quite as puzzled as himself. He glanced at the lama’s face, hoping to detect a trace of worry. But the lama was asleep. He was sleep-: ing as serenely as a child, with his head drooped forward and his shoulders leaning back into the corner. Samding made a signal not te waken him. The carriage dawdled on. The lama stirred, glanced through the slats to find out where they were, and dozed away again. The streets grew narrower and then broad- ened into unpaved roads that wandered between high walls and shuttered windows, in a part of Delhi that Ommony knew only by hearsay and from books. Here and there a Moslem minaret uprose above surrounding flat roofs, and trees peeped over the wall of a crowded cemetery. They were going northward, toward where the ruins of really ancient Delhi shelter thieves and jackals in impenetrable scrub and mounds of débris; a district where any- thing might happen and no official be a word the wiser. Suddenly the carriage checked and turned between high walls into an alley with a gate at the farther end. The driver cried aloud with a voice like a prophet of despair announcing the end of all things; the double gate swung wide, not more than a yard in advance of the horse’s nose; paved stones rang underfoot; the gates slammed shut; and the lama came to life, opening first one eye, then the other. “All things end—even carriage-rides,’’ he said in English, looking hard at Ommony. But Ommony was still of the opinion it was better to pretend he did not understand that language. Somebody opened the carriage door from outside—a Tibetan, all smiles and benedic- dictions, robed like a medieval monk— who chattered so fast in a northern dialect that Ommony could not make head or tail of it. Samding cut short the flow of speech by pushing past him, followed by Maitraya. Ommony got out next, his eyes blinded for the moment by sunlight off the white stone walls of a courtyard; and before he could take in the scene the carriage containing COMmiclbooks C© in