Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 13, 1923 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

JUNGLE TEST. low and the two gulped down a luke-warm whisky-and-soda, Dunboyne helping him- self again. ““ Now, then, I’m going up to see her,” he said. “ Wait till morning,’ the major cau- tioned. ‘She fell asleep from sheer ex- haustion.” The tall, grimy lover thought a moment. “Tt looks like a shady business this—meet- ing one’s fiancée in a dak-bungalow and go- ing over to a cantonment the next day to be married. Let it appear that I came here in the morning. I will not awaken her now—” He looked at his watch. “Two o'clock!” ‘Too bad you missed her at the tonga- depot. That would have been quite re- spectable.” Dunboyne flushed angrily: ‘“ I suppose that’s a leading question, major? You want to know why I was late? Well, I'll tell you. I’m generally known as a brave man—you’ve never heard anything to the contrary! But damned if I could get up nerve enough to go through that jungle as I had planned at first. That shortcut would have brought me to Ganj in time to meet her. I took the long tonga-route, These plantation ponies, once they get on the Plains, do nothing but sweat and pant and pound on the road.” ; “You mean you were late because—”’ “ Because I was afraid, yes—confound it! That’s plain. Dll say it for you. There’s some local trouble there among the devil-worshippers — nothing to do with Ghandi, and it’s not important enough for Government to notice. Ghandi’s in prison and Viscount Peel is taking Montagu’s place as Secretary for India—you know all about it.. But that’s not going to make these scrub jungles safe!” The publican at the door caught their attention by heavy breathing and a desper- ate wringing of his hands. ‘“ Ah, then you have heard!” he wailed. ‘‘ We Englishmen are in a sorry plight!” “The tribes over there I understand have a nasty habit of kidnaping white men.” The miserable Eurasian broke into a fit of trembling. “J am not white, sahib!” he cried, lapsing for the first time into his es ne pi Oana Pe SS a ee et SS ae —- ISAS * al Te a, we ne : a ies name nic 5 So OS ae + own fawning dialect. ‘I am part Hindu -——two annas to the rupee, sahib, because ] am one sixteenth heathen! I am not im- maculate—l am a mixed breed and I will confess! Do you think, major-sahib, that I am in danger?” “Tt is the girl who is in danger,” the ma- jor retorted. ‘‘ Not rum-soaked carcasses like us.” ' Dunboyne rose from his seat, his face turned suddenly ashen. ‘“ The girl!” he cried voicelessly. ‘‘ Major—you’re out of your head. You mean to dare say that! A white girl taken by these fawning heath- ens right under the nose of the Central In- telligence, the army, the British Raj! Why it’s too ridiculous—too horrible—”’ ‘* Judging from your blue lips, I should say you believe me,” the major shot back. Dunboyne stayed no longer to argue. He bounded up the brick steps to the top of the house, crossed the flat roof, and did not pause until he came to the very thresh- old of the room in which Diane Herries was sleeping. He peered in. The punkah had stopped flapping, but a slight vapory wind from the jungle swept the room clear of the heat of day. <A long blue band of moonlight fell upon the canopy of netting, and in the bed Dunboyne could see his fiancée completely clothed, as she had been when she first arrived at the bungalow. On the roof he saw the punkah-coolie who was fast asleep. A few kicks awakened him, and with sleepy cries for mercy the old man grabbed the punkah-rope and started his steady monot- onous pull. For a while Dunboyne paced about the roof—a flat space covered with tar and gravel, and surrounded by a wall of brick and lime. The bungalow faced the moon- lit Plains where he could see a limitless checkerboard of squares colored in dim shades of blue. On the other side he looked toward the jungle—a huge jet black patch like a giant hand reaching down to- ward him with its fingers buried in the deep ravines and khors. From this direction came the wind heavily laden with quinine and spice, suffocating with its swamp breath. At first Dunboyne felt that his fiancée Gomicboo S :