Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

JEREMIAH PARSONS—HE-MAN. He swaggered out of the door. Jem could hear the fastenings being replaced. A short exchange between Kurtz and the guard fol- lowed. Then all was silent. - Jem’s nose twitched from the insulting touch of Kurtz. He glowered at the closed door. “Oh, boy!” he murmured. get my hands on you!” “When I CHAPTER VII. | A SONG OF FREEDOM. EM sat down on the bench to ponder. J His situation had now assumed the ser- iousness of a definite danger. He knew Kurtz would have no compunction about killing him off as soon as his use for him was ended. So long as the secret of Hos- _ kins’s disappearance remained a secret Jem believed his life to be safe. But Kurtz had quite plainly indicated what his pro- cedure was to be in the matter of extracting that information from Jem; and the latter was of no mind to permit himself to be a subject for the experimentation of Kurtz’s devilish inventiveness. A long time Jem sat there—an age it seemed to him—and still no hope presented itself to him. The situation remained un- changed from what it had been when he had resolved the possibilities earlier that afternoon. His eye roved the room. There had been no change in any particular—ex- cept one. His glance halted on the lamp upon the table. There was one factor that had not existed previously. What hope lay hidden there, could he but discover it? Well, there was the glass shade. A broken glass edge made a first class cutting tool. If he could get his hands free, that would be a very decided step in advance. Jem’s brain was working furiously. And at length a grin of satisfaction broke over his face. He dropped to the floor by the stove and twisted to where his hands, behind his back, could grasp the crowbar poker. With this gripped firmly between his fingers, he wrig- gled to his feet again and approached the table. He stood with his back to the table and poised his bar. He twisted his neck & 669 over his shoulder, estimated his position, and swung the poker witb a sharp tap against the lamp shade. With a brittle tinkle the shattered glass fell to the table top. Jem listened breathlessly; but all was silent. The guard apparently had not heard the slight noise. Several impatient minutes Jem waited until the glass should cool off sufficiently for handling. He laid his bar down on the table, groped for a large sized piece of the glass and backed up against the wall. He wedged the glass between the log chinks and began his attempt to cut through the ropes binding his wrists. Laboriously he drew his fetters once or twice across the edge with greater resultant injury to his own wrists than to the rope. Then the glass broke off and fell to the floor. He got another piece and continued his experiment; with similar results. He per- sisted until all the usable glass had been exhausted. Then he returned to his bench, disappointed and downhearted. His wrists were cut and bleeding; beyond that he had achieved nothing. — Another long period Jem sat in desperate cogitation. The possibilities of the lamp still lurked in his brain and refused to be eliminated. And once again hope flared up within his heart, in comradeship to the wavering flame that smoked and swayed in the air currents. Jem rose and again backed against the table. This experiment required a steady, un- flinching nerve, but he felt certain of suc- cess this time. He drew the lamp a little closer to the table edge. His groping fingers turned the wick a little higher. He paused a moment, trying to judge his position; then stretched kis wrists as far apart as the fetters would permit and lowered the rope into the flame. With a sharp cry he snatched his hands away. He had miscalculated his distance and the flame had seared his hand. He gritted his teeth and again lowered his wrists. This time his judgment was better. The smell of scorching hemp rose tc his nostrils and never had he experienced CONMMICWIOOKS COHN