Adventure Magazine Cover — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

152 I remember that I wiped the dagger-on the scarf around his waist before I realized that I had killed a man. THE girl stood trembling, lean- a ing against a rock. I picked up the sack she had dropped and it was heavy. , a \ “T ead thou,” I said to her, follow. I shall carry this sack for thee and then return to cast this carcass into the “and I will gorges of the Verbas River. No one will ever find it.” But the girl shook her head: “There are soldiers below and I heard him talk to them before I stole up to the wagon. I did not know then that it was him, but I recognized the voice. They will be looking for him, if he does not return within two hours.” This I considered and I sat down to find a plan. The girl sat beside me, watching the road below. ‘The soldiers could not be seen, but the glow of the fires was still high. Finally I found a way out. “Take this dagger,’ I said to the girl, “and cut my arm. My right arm. It must appear that I have fought with the bandit and that he did escape. Go back to your 4am and take this dagger with thee. Remember that it must be the last time that thou hast taken food from the Austrians. This dog has paid me well and given me a paper to the general who sits at Bosna Seray and a reward is coming to me. It is dark and I can not see thy face, but come to Bosna Seray where thou wilt find me at the house of Husref Beg, who is my uncle. By this dagger I shall know thee!” Ere I could prevent her she had taken my hand and lifted it to her forehead. “T too,” she said, “can not see thy face, but I will find thee, O Defender of the vir- tuous. Iam not a thief, I have but taken what was taken from the han of my father when the infidels came into this land. They burned the fan, after taking bread and maize, and left my people to starve. I have taken from them but bread and flour and this sack contains no more than to even the score. I will take it to the mountains and then I shall come to Bosna Seray. I shall serve thee, O Protector of the poor.” Then she picked up the sack, forgetting what i had asked her to do. I called her back, repeating my request. “IT can not hurt thee, but I must do it, to Adventure save thee,”’ she said in a voice that trembled with tears. And then she took the dagger out of my hand and drove it into my right arm. While I busied myself to stop the flowing blood, she had vanished. I returned to the wagons and bade the soldiers to get the body of Kohlman. They — did not believe my tale and turned me over to the commander at Banyaluka, who sent me under escort to Bosna Seray. The gen- eral heard my tale and when he saw my arm he believed me and called a doctor to dress my wound. When the arm had healed he gave me enough gold to buy this stall in the bazaar, which I stocked with the kind of goods which thou seest now, Effendi. Kohlman had written a paper stating that I had served him faithfully and I felt no desire to contradict him. One day, after I had finished the noon meal, I was sitting in the door of my stall, when a woman approached me. She was veiled and I could not see if she was young or old, for the garments the women of my race were wearing at that time, Effendi, did not disclose a woman’s figure. I thought that she would buy some of these trinkets I had for sale and followed her into the stall, which was then just as dark as it is now, Effendi. trade, for one can not examine too closely and it is only men of thy race, or women, who insist upon light, afraid that they might be taken advantage of, Within, the woman threw aside the folds of her garments and I beheld, even in the dimness of my stall, the slender form of a girl which had been on my mind ever since that night in the mountains of Banyaluka. From her sash she drew a dagger, and then I was certain. Is that all of the tale? Not quite, Effendi, but I do not believe that thou wouldst like to hear the details of the wedding which my uncle Husref Beg arranged and of the change that has befallen, Zorbeida, my wife, who was once a bandit. That is her voice now, effendi, scolding the neighbors, and it is not the same music which gladdened my ears in the mountains of Banyaluka where Kohlman had been slain. . And is this the reason why I would not sell thee this dagger? Nay, Effendi, thou art wrong. By keeping this dagger I am able to con- vince Zorbeida that [ still love her, for Gomirecbooks.co It helps the.