Adventure Magazine Cover — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

They Always Run True to Form Bertie’s smile was broadening. “And the sea gave up its dead. Only it was old Africa gave up its living.” The graybeard was smiling, too. “She did, Bertie. Old Africa loosened her hold, as I’ve made her do a score of times. And another Black Sheep had his lesson. a The smile turned to a laugh. “The Black Sheep’s father had one as well, Bertie. Had to cough up all that was left of the hundred thousand.” “Pleasant as pulling teeth, eh, Frank?” “Just about. They had him in jail at first. Safe in the little stone jug. But they couldn’t prove anything against him. The man-losing Tombs and Africa were much too full of mystery for any jury to come to any conclusion about them.” SOUT SCALE ODESIA Slowly a trace of anger crept across Ber- tie’s face. : “And no one has ever had evidence direct enough to convict Tombs and his crowd? He’s still losing Black Sheep and unde- sirables to order?” “Openly. Personally conducted hunting trips from which one man never returns.” “And you haven’t once managed actually to stop him?” “T’ve never seen him yet, Bertie.” The graybeard lapsed into silence and the horses again plodded on. “Queer,” the graybeard broke out pres- ently, and he smiled a puzzled thoughtful AERN distance. ‘“That fellow was raving mad when we caught him. All but two of twenty-four were mad. Yet he and none of the other mad ones minded Cora in the least. try to purr like a cat, and they seemed just like animals together.” Hurriedly Bertie’s right hand felt round to the back of his neck. Just as quickly the hand came back. With a stupid, childish ae his eyes went to the sleeves of his clean For five days and nights the party hur- ried on. Days of sizzling heat and nights of almost arctic coldness. The sea of bush broke to an open, rolling, grassy plain. A plain of pure velvet. Velvet a full yard deep. UMTALI, D FORT VICTORIA Hartebeeste, wildebeeste, koodoo, buffalo, buck of a score of kinds ambled away ahead or rushed aside to saéfety—rushed and then turned to stare inquisitively—buck in herds of hundreds, herds of thousands, herds al- most uncountable. Small knots of zebras, prancing along in the joy of life, wheeled and gyrated and gamboled. On the rare electric air their thin, whinnying squeals caroled and echoed for miles. And far, far away a pair of startled giraffe galloped a leisurely. lope, their long necks swinging and waving nip masts of a ship in a storm. In deep meditation the eyes of the 141 smile toward the dainty saw of hills in the She’d rub herself against them and — Gomichbooks + a > Fea Nz: 4 _ ort ee