Adventure Magazine Cover — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

98 a foot, crawling weakly. Another few in- ches, and one hand wiped the sticky blood from his eyes. Some intense horror, a desperation at the frightful thing, fought with the weakness and the mists. He was at Silva’s head and he put out a hand that found the dog’s jaws. He forced his fingers between the big fangs and leaned on one elbow to draw his body closer. His shoul- der was against the dog’s bloody neck and he let all his weight fall forward, pushing. At last he found voice. It was faint, weak, and seemed strange, but the note of command was in it. “Go away, you—you devil.”’ The dog’s jaws opened and he drew back. Mickey Fortune’s head went forward; the blackness closed in on him and he fell across Silva’s neck and shoulders protectingly. aD) THE sun was rising out of the Ke) orange-tinged haze in the east when Mickey Fortune stirred and rolled over. The blood was dried on his face and throbbing lumps were on his head. His body was weak and his fever-swollen tongue cried out for water. Slowly he turned over from the hard thing on which he rested and his eyes saw it and eo eset, Adventure closed tightly at the ghastly vision. His head averted and he looked toward the water-hole. At its edge a great bull-terrier, torn ter- ribly, rested, with tongue weakly lapping up the tepid water. A few feet away an- other dog, exactly similar to the last minute detail of body, stretched stiff in death, the brass studs on the heavy collar tarnished with the dried blood. Mickey Fortune moved. The dull, beat- ing pains in his head increased. He arose unsteadily, staggering like one not entirely recovered from the effects of some terrible debauch. He wavered and sagged down at the water-hole. Then he, too, drank deeply, and the water brought some measure of relief. The terrier’s tail wagged slightly in a way that denoted uncertainty. Mickey Fortune’s arm reached out and he drew the dog close against his shirt in a violent caress that would have brought yelps of pain from one of a less hardy breed. The terrier’s tail wagged with increasing vigor, and together they started back to- ward the tent where the burro sought the shade already, for the sun’s rays were growing hot. NX om mit ic « os pare: y Py Mw { a) MICLOOOK C@