Adventure Magazine Cover, December 10, 1922 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

Benefit of Doubt red-beard pleasantly. ‘‘Moreover, the train will not go, because the rails are torn up.” “Oh, all right,” answered Ommony. “No need then to tell the Government. They probably know already. Food is waiting for you. You have my leave to go.” CHAPTER V° “Loyalty to whem—tlo what?” ° ULOVER NENTS are like earthquakes. They sleep for protracted periods and then wake suddenly. Waking, they blun- der expensively and—cui bono? The easiest way to wake a government is to cut the railway and the telegraph. The Moplahs did not mean that, naturally. Being simple sons of stream and forest their idea had been, as usual once in a genera- tion, to convert a few hundred thousand Hindus by fear, to make a horrid example of as many conscientious objectors as could be caught, and to keep the detested British Government afar off by severing communications. Whereas, of course, if they had let trains and messages go through they would have gained ten days or so for unhindered vio- lence. Nobody would have believed the alarmist reports until long after scores of Hindu villages had ceased to exist. So the Moplahs threw away their best trump card when they tore up the railway line. To the uninitiated in such matters a damaged track looks serious, especially when the rioters—as the Moplahs were described at first—have removed the spare rails to be made into bullets, swords and what not else. Actually it was less than nine hours before the first train got through and reached Ommony’s wayside station. He was sitting at dinner alone, when a hot, red-headed military man rode up from the station followed by two mounted order- lies. Hair had been rubbed off their horses’ rumps by contact with the inside of a cattle-truck, but otherwise—except for the redness of the officer’s face—there was nothing about them that suggested emergency. The officer shouted from the saddle. Ommony sent out the butler to. invite him in to dinner. “Youre a cool one I must say,” said the officer, striding in. ‘Or didn’t you know?” eave a drink,” said Ommony. “The Moplahs are ‘out.’ ” “Sit down. Eat and drink. There are no Moplahs under the table,” said Om- mony. The cavalryman ignored the invitation, but rather bridled at the jest. ‘“Haven’t you a man named King here— Athelstan King?” wad 3 Fy “He arrived by train with you this morn- ing. Where is he now?” “Tf I knew I wouldn’t tell you. Martial law yet?” “Not yet.” “Neither King nor I are military men. He resigned his commission, you knew. Sorry,” said Ommony. “Y’m Major Pierson.” “Sit down. Eat. Drink. You're wast- ing my merry mood.” The cavalryman took a chair and helped himself to whisky. “Merry mood? Great Scott! Yes, thanks, I'll eat. Are you simply a satyr, well-fed and isolated? I’m in command of an armored train patrolling the relaid track between here and Malapuram. I want information.” “So do I. We all do,” said Ommony. * ig ; : . 7 “King and I went to the station before noon — and buried as much of the babu’s corpse as we could find. The Moplah chiefs were here this morning and gave me leave to live. They agreed not to steal my guns. King painted his face and tired his hair until no wild Moplah in all the Nilghiris could out- mopple him. He’s gone—vamoosed—van- ished—napoo.” “What about Mohammed Babar? He’s on my list.” “Gone too.” “Where?” “Ask Allah! King set out to find bia Now eat, drink and tell me news.’ “There isn’t any. This affair won’t amount to much. Headquarters have wired for Judge Wilmshurst to come and hold an investigation, but the old boy had already started. My orders are to bring in any one I find along the line who feels frightened, with special reference to your-— self, King, Mohammed Babar and one or two others up the line.”’ Ommony looked straight into the Major’s eyes and deliberately blew up, crashing his open hand down on the table until the plates and bottles jumped. comichbooks (E(0)