In Search of an Unknown Race — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

the deathly paleness of a moment ago, hesitated a brief while as he heard Van’s footsteps approaching nearer. His features were working convulsively, as though some inward struggle were going on. But his hesitation was only momentary. Turning, he plunged into the dense underbrush, which sur- rounded a little open glade where the footpath ended abruptly. Parting the leaves, he peered out, as Van, uncon- scious of evil, came hurrying along, looking anxiously about him for the object of his search. Reaching the opening, he stopped and again called Flores by name, but only the echo from the forest depths replied. “Poof !” A slight sound, as of a person suddenly expelling his breath, was heard. As Van turned inquiringly, some- thing like a toy dart, impelled by some unseen force, made a tiny wound on his left arm just above the elbow, and fell to the ground. ‘‘Why, what under the sun is ¢kat P” Van exclaimed, glancing down at the arrow. Then, pushing up his sleeve, he saw a drop or two of blood issuing from the slight puncture, but at the same moment a sudden diz- ziness came over him, accompanied by a terrible feel- ing of nausea, while a filmy cloud passed across his vision. ‘‘ Flores!” he called, blindly throwing out his arms, and as the hidden spectator cowered back in his leafy covert, Van staggered and fell tc the ground. To all intent and purpose he was as lifeless as though a rifle ball had pierced his heart. Eomichdooks. co