Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

A12 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. : “ You—you go to ’ell!” he growled. The priests came forward, wondering at this strange greeting, and peered at the queer figure which wandered in their gar- dens. For a few minutes the reality of the horrible happening was unable to impress itself on their brains. The thing was too inconceivable. ’ That a non-Hindu should defile the in- terior of a temple was unthinkable enough; but a Christian and a white man! So frightful a sacrilege just could not happen, that was all. Yet it stood there and growled at them. Their eyes began to open wide in fanatical rage. The first instinct of a native when surprised in any way is to yell like a siren horn. The foremost of the priests opened his mouth, and then Smith, with a sudden spring, clutched all three ofthat in a vast anaconda embrace. For crucial minutes the four shapes merged into a single swaying bulk in the darkness; the priests struggling to yell for help, and Smith straining all his gigantic muscles to choke them to silence. His great arms, long as they were, could not surround all three, of course, but their loose robes which offered such a satisfactory erip helped wonderfully. The best that the panting three could accomplish was a chok- ing squawk from time to time which Smith discouraged by a tighter squeeze. But at last the great fellow got the hold which he had been trying for. He settled himself and tightened his grip. Then, like a hammer-thrower, he grunted with sudden effort and put all the strength of his swelling muscles into a whirling heave. Limbs flew up in the air, billowy robes spun in serpen- tine curves, and the whole straining mass thudded together to the sand. Smith possessed a fist of the size and consistency of a paving-stone. Where it fell there followed silence. Three times in lightning-quick succession it dropped; and then Smith sat up and scooped the sand from the back of his neck. ‘““Gorblimey!” hs panted. “‘ Nerve o’ the bloomin’ ’eathen! But, so ’elp me, I only socked ’em knockouts; I ain’t killed a one o’ the three—I don’t think. They'll come around in about ’arf an hour an’ ’owl ruddy murder.” With slow deliberation he felt for a head in the dark, and finding one, dragged it with easy confidence across his lap and gagged it most efficiently with strips of its own garment. The other two he served the same, and grunted his satisfaction. Then, as he contemplated his handiwork, a quaint conceit came to him. He consid- ered it gravely; and with consideration its allure grew. With sober seriousness he rolled the inert forms out of their robes, laid them carefully side by side like sar- dines, and then rolled them into a single huge bundle which he folded—over and knotted and tied with elaborate care. “Tl drop ’em down a bloomin’ well somewheres,” he murmured. So appro- priate a disposition was eminently satisfac- tory. But Smith was never one to spoil the contemplation of a noble idea by haste. Why should time or place be permitted to interfere? He grunted, therefore, arranged: himself comfortably against the bundle, and drew from his-pocket a flask of unusual size, “Cheer-o,” he said, and he drank a health to himself in celebration of his victory. The bundle was softly comfortable. Smith wriggled his great shoulders to dis- pose of sundry protruding lumps to better advantage, and pondered with earnest im- portance over the captives of his prowess. Their uncalled for interference with his plans irritated him, and he grumbled petu- lantly to himself. ‘“‘ Sanguinary niggers! PU—bloomin’ well shove ’em in a—bloomin’ well. S’welp me, IT will.” Smith’s virtuous indignation grew with refle€tion. So ungentlemanly a meddling with his vast plans was-unendurable, and his racing imagination launched itself into a pleasant contemplation of yet vaster plans for the utter immolation of the obtrusive three. His original quest and the appalling risk of his present situation drifted back into a dim insignificance before the absorb- ing contemplation of various fantastic forms of retribution. It was only by the grace of the red gods of Shamgar, whose peculiar province it is to look after all true adventurers, that the whole thing had happened in the most de- CcomnmiclooolxS.cornn