Adventure Magazine Cover — page 172: what you’re looking at

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

162 my uncle rose out of his seat like a man daft and commanded her’ to unveil. She did so. I can remember her face to; this day—the most beautiful native- woman I ever saw in my life!” - Kilgore paused for a sibel: then con- tinued. “She was sentenced and taken away, but not before I had heard her speak a good deal; she threatened my uncle in a mild way. Ever since, her voice haunted me. It came to me in my dreams, in the midst of a musical concert, in the harmonies of an orchestra—that singular, thrilling timbre such as no other human throat has ever known!”’ Day entertained a conviction that his friend--was maundering: He should have known better; perhaps it was because he was actually drunken with this sudden return to physical comfort—this abrupt reversion to his former self. At all events, he had - been listening in a perfunctory manner, his gaze fixed upon the iron grating which-cut off his escape from the chamber. Now he rose with a sudden movement and advanced to this grating. “<“A touch o’ sun, a touch o’ sun,’ the color-sergeant said!’ he hummed. “Excuse me, most venerable Canuck, but I have an idea. They are rare with me; I can’t afford to lose one.” He stopped and examined the grating, tested the iron and rose. With- out a word, but with a sudden brilliancy in his eye, he returned to his»place. ‘Now, proceed! You were speaking of the haunt- ing voice. Did the lady die of lep- rosy?” “T have always thought so until today,” said Kilgore. “You heard me spoken of as the nephew of Sir Cecil Kilgore? That was her voice.” He sat staring at his clasped hands. Day regarded him for a space in stupefied disbelief and only gradually comprehended that Kilgore was speaking in dead earnest. Then he swore softly. “Old man, what’s come over you? My ——, you can’t be ass enough to believe that this Esrun is the same woman!”’ Kilgore lifted his-head, looked his friend in the eye for a moment. -ruil - “You saw that bed of saffron flowers? You saw the yellow robes of our guide? Only a Kashmiri would affect such things in this place. I don’t say that Esrun is the woman, of course; but I do say the woman Adventure is here! I would know that voice again » , In Day looked at Kilgore, shook his head sadly and rose. “You believe it, all right—poor chap! You can’t make me believe it. -So let’s respect each other’s convictions and be happy. Me, I’m going to bust out of this cage in two minutes. Quit repining, and watch Mr. Day exert his manly muscle, old sport!” So saying, the American returned to the iron grating which formed the front of his prison chamber. Kilgore watched him frowningly. Day went to the center of the long grill and attempted to shake it. It gave slightly. | The lattice-work of iron had openings of not more than six inches across. After examining these, Day uttered a low grunt of satisfaction. He seated himself upon the floor, planted luis feet apart and against the iron grill, then seized one of the rusty segments of the lattice in both hands. a. an In effect, he transformed himself into a 5 crossbow, a human fulcrum. the strength of his legs and thighs against the strength of his arms and shoulders— and both of these against the slender bars of wrought iron. His arms drew taut. His legs, still bent at the knee, shoved in a steady pressure against the grill. The curve of his back, the bowed curve of his shoulders and bent- over head, settled into rigidity as absolute as that of the iron segments before him. Inch by inch his legs straightened. His face became suffused with blood, pur- ple; the eyes bulged terribly. From his lips came a sound that was half a gasp of effort, half an oath of rage. Kilgore stared— it was impossible for flesh and blood to endure such a frightful effort without being torn asunder! Yet, inch by inch, the bent legs continued to straighten. The man had lifted himself from the floor by this time. Crack! Day fell backward. : ‘Told you so!’ he panted as he scrambled to his feet. His hands, dripping blood, held out a segment of the jron. “Rusted—” “Quit it!’ said Kilgore. “It’s insane— useless ——”’ Fer answer, Day uttered a joyous laugh and sat down again before the grill. Once more he planted his feet in position. Once more he gripped the iron, a segment ad- joining that which had given way. Once <S Gomichboo He was pitting - (E(@)