Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

When the confession W . sim commanded the : of India ink over the thumb of the decott, and the mark was imprinted on the paper. Then he was taken to one of the cave cells cut out of the solid rock beneath the palace, and imprisoned for the night. “ Come, jamadars,” Kassim said, and his voice that had been so coarse and rough, now broke, and sobs floated the words scarcely articulate, ‘‘ and reverently let us lay Amir Khan upon his bed. Then, though there be no call of the muezzin, we will kneel here, even without our prayer carpets, and pray to Allah for the repose of the soul of a true Musselman and a great warrior. May his rest be one of peace!” He passed his hand lovingly over the face of the chief and down his beard, and his strong, fearless eyes were wet. Then Amir Khan was lifted by the jama- dars and carried to a bed in the room that adjoined the surya mahal. When they had risen from their silent prayer, Kassim said: “ Go you to your tents. 1 will remain here with the guard who watch.” CHAPTER XXIV. THE FREEDOM OF HUNSA. APTAIN BARLOW and Bootea had gone from the scene of the murder through the long, dimly lighted hall, its walls broken here and there by niches of mystery, some of them closed by marble fretwork screens that might have been doors, and down the marble stairway, in silence. Barlow had slipped a hand under her arm in the way of both physical and mental sustaining. His fingers tapped her arm in affectionate approbation. Once he muttered to himself in English, “ Splendid girl!” and not comprehending, the Gulab turned her star eyes upward to his face. At the gate the soldier who had accom- panied them spoke to the guard, and the latter, standing on a step, bellowed: ‘“‘ Ho, ye Pindaris, here goes forth the Afghan in innocence of the foul crime! Above they have the slayer, who was Hunsa the thug; and praise be to Allah! They will apply mullak to rub his cube secon A rippling . brated the thronged street, — Akbar! The peace of God D of the dead chief!” — A Jane was opened up to them Dj grim, wild-eyed, bandit-looking hors iulwar over shoulder and knives Mm | who called: ‘Back ye! The favored Oo! the commander passes. Back, make way! — ‘Tis an order.’ — The faces of the soldiers that had been wreathed in revenge and blood lust when Barlow had been brought, were now friendly, and there were cries of “ Salaam, brother! Salaam, flower of the desert!” for it had been spread that the Gulab had discovered the murderer, had denounced him. “ Brave little Gulab!” Barlow said in a low voice, bending his head to look into her eyes, for he felt the arm trembling against his hand. She did not answer, and he knew that she was sobbing. When they were past the turbulent crowd he said, “ Bootea, your people will all have fled or been captured.” “Ves, sahib,” she gasped. “ Perhaps even your maidservant will have been taken.” “No, sahib, they would not take her; her home is here.” By her side he traveled to where the now deserted tents of the decoits stood silent and dark, like little pagodas of sullen crime. A light flickered in one tent, and silhou- etted against its canvas they could see the form of a woman crouched with her head in her hands. ‘<The maid is there,” Barlow said, “ but it is not enough. I will bring my blankets and sleep here at the door of your tent.” “No, sakib, it is not needed,” the girl protested. “Yes, Bootea, I will come.” Then, with a little laugh, he added, ‘“ The gods have ordained that we take turns at protecting — each other. It is now my turn; I will c soon.” oo 2 4