Adventure Trails, February 1929 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

THE MIGHT OF THE SCORPION 31 Ted knew all he wanted to know, and he realized his time was getting short. From the tall Mexican’s words and voice he knew his speech was fast coming to a close. “Nora,” he whispered into the black- ness, “if the tall gent there comes this way, try to make a prisoner of him, if you can without any risk. Jarnoff and I are in a hurry; be back soon. Stay right here at the camp.” He turned to Jarnoff. “Now hurry; the show’s just about due to start. Quick. now!” Jarnoff grunted nastily, and with Ted on his heels hur- riedly crawled to the edge of the little plateau. Then he crouched SS = behind a low, flat-topped rock on the edge, some twenty or thirty feet from where the tall Mexican was winding up his speech in a blaze of patriotic fervor: “. . . down-trodden country shall not suffer this blight, I say! Shall not go down into oblivion, patriots; shall not, since the blood of men is red, and in the red blood of our manhood there is hope and salvation! “But it is not my task to point out the way of our salvation. For guidance at this crucial point in our country’s history we must turn to the master, to him whose clarion call has brought us here, to no other than that dread -figure—the Scor- pron!” Startled, the horse leaped forward. As he flung forth the last words, cry- ing them out with dramatic intensity, he made a quick move with one foot. There was a great burst of white light from the rock behind which crouched | Jar- noff and his captor, a terrific puff of sear- ing heat, and a gasp- ing cry of amazement and terror from the assembled crowd; and on the instant fol- lowing the flash, Jarnoff leaped to his feet and stood poised on the top of the rock, his arm raised high in the sign of greeting. XIII THe Storm BREAKS HE excited murmuring of the crowd died down instantly, to be followed by an intense, expectant silence. Slowly, ma- jestically, Jarnoff lowered his arm, nNicboo (Q) S (©)