Adventure Magazine Cover — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

40 hail of Jimgrim. No, it is best that you see this matter through tonight between four walls. Only remember, sahib, that though a man on duty may feign sleep, it is wiser not to, because sleep steals on us unawares!” '. So I returned to the bedroom where Grim and Jeremy were snoring a_halleluja chorus; but Yussuf Dakmar hadn’t returned yet. I took advantage of the Syrian’s absence to open Grim’s valise, remove the bottle of doped whisky and set it on the table close to the window beside the two bottles that I had bought downstairs—one of which, for the sake of appearances, I opened just as-Yussuf Dakmar entered, smiling to conceal anxiety. ) CHAPTER X “You made a bad break that time.” c= was in Mephistophelian humor. He can sleep cat-fashion, for sixty seconds at a time, with all his wits about him in the intervals, and likes to feel in the crook of his own forefinger the hidden hair- trigger of events. I don’t think Jeremy was awake when I first entered the room, al- _ though it suited Grim’s humor that he should be presently; but you would have sworn they were both unconscious, judging by the see-saw, bass and baritone snoring. I poured out whisky, drank a little of it grouchily, and watched Yussuf Dakmar into bed. He didn’t take many of his clothes off and even by candle-light you could see the shape of the knife concealed under his shirt. He sat cross-legged on the bed, presumably praying, and as I didn’t like the look of him I blew out the candle. Instantly, pinched and prompted by James Schuyler Grim, Jeremy sat up and yammered profanely at the darkness, vow- ing he couldn’t see to sleep without a light in the room. I tinkled a tumbler against a whisky bottle, and Jeremy instantly swore that he heard burglars. Sitting up and whirling his pillow he knocked Yussuf Dakmar off the bed on to the floor. So I lit the candle again, after emptying my glass of whisky into a spittoon; whereat Jeremy quoted the Koran about the fate of drunkards and, getting out of bed, apolo- gized to Yussuf Dakmar like a courtier doing homage to a king. “Your honor was born under a lucky star,” he assured him. “I usually shoot or Adventure stab, but the pillow was the first thing handy.” The Syrian had hard work to keep his temper, for he had fallen on the haft of the hidden knife and it hurt him between two ribs, where a poorly conditioned man is extra sensitive. However, he mumbled something and crawled between the sheets. Then Grim vowed that he couldn’t sleep with a light so I blew out the candle, and in about two minutes the steady see-saw snor- ing resumed. I took the opportunity to empty half the contents of a whisky bottle into the spittoon, and after lighting a pipe proceeded to clink a tumbler at steady inter- vals as evidence of debauch well under way. Except for the clink and bump of the tumbler, and once when I filled and relit the pipe, all was quiet for half an hour, when Yussuf Dakmar piped up suddenly and asked me whether I didn’t intend to come to bed. “T will not trouble you, effendi. I will keep over to my side. There is plenty of room in the bed for the two of us.” As he spoke I heard a movement of the bed-clothes as Grim pinched Jeremy awake again. I answered before Jeremy could horn in. “Hic! You ’pect me ’nto bed full o’ snakes? Never sleep ’slong as venomous reptiles waiting! Hic! You stay ’n bed an’ keep ’em ’way from me!” Well: Jeremy didn’t want any better cue than that. He got up, lit the candle and explained to me with great wealth of Arabic theosophy that the snakes I saw were mere delusions because Allah never made them; and I tried to look utterly drunk, staring at him with dropped jaw and droopy eyelids, knocking an empty bottle over with my elbow by way of calling attention to it. “Get into bed, effendi,” Jeremy advised me, feeding the cue back, since I was in the middle of the stage. “Not into that bed!” I answered, shaking my head solemnly. ‘That f’ler put snakes in on purpose. Why’s he sober when I’m drunk? I won’t sleep in bed with sober man. Let him get drunk too, an’ both see snakes. Then I’!l sleep with him!” Jeremy’s roving eye fell on the small doped bottle that I had taken from Grim’s valise. Looking preternaturally wise, he walked over to Yussuf Dakmar’s: bed, sat down on it with his back toward me and proceeded to unfold a plan. Co NOOK C©