Adventure Magazine Cover, December 10, 1922 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

28 “Have you no manhood?” she demanded, and proceeded to display her own by step- ping down on to the track to force the issue. ‘What is this nonsense?” she demanded. “How dare you imprison a lady in this abominable way! You heard my husband. Send at once for the Moplah’s headmen!”’ “No need. Get back in!’ commanded Sutherland, and shouted to his men to duck, pushing Mrs. Wilmshurst toward the door at the same time so violently that she collapsed on to the step, providing just suf- ficient clearance for a bullet, which clipped the brim of her panama hat. Two more bullets plunked through Suth- erland’s helmet, half-a-dozen smashed the glass in the car windows, and one good answering volley under the sergeant’s direc- tion caused a temporary halt in the pro- ceedings. Mrs. Wilmshurst climbed in and crouched on the floor. “What does this mean?” asked her hus- band, head thtough the window again. It was obvious what it meant. Suther- land read off the symptoms as one with vision reading to the blind. “They’ve moppled your train, that’s what! Scoughed everybody, or I’m a Hindu! Wonder we didn’t hear the shoot- ing—must have been some—no—train crew wasn’t armed, that’s right—they may have ditched the whole shebang and _ used knives! Anyhow, they’ve looted every- thing. I can see lamps, an oil-can, shovel, flags, some third-class carriage doors—give ‘em another one, sergeant, they’re gath- ering again!” The volley tore across the barricade be- fore the judge could get a word in, and the Moplahs, who had been swarming around the bend three hundred yards away scam- pered for cover. “There! That will do! That’s enough I tell yot! Have you killed anybody? Let me manage this.” The judge was no longer ridiculous, if not sublime. Sublimity, warts and a but- ler’s nose are not congruous; but he knew what he thought he could do, and proceeded to try it, tying his handkerchief to a walk- Ing stick and waving it from the carriage window. “Good God! You mean surrender?” Sutherland made a jump at the stick but - missed. “Certainly not! You leave this to me. Let me talk to them!” ‘sides. Adventure “Be careful! Oh be careful!” came the voice of Rachel Wilmshurst, but the judge ignored her absolutely. oy through the fringe of trees bordering on the line and already had Suther- land’s scratch defenses threatened on two They established that fact beyond argument by means of a scattering cross- fire, which ceased, however, when the judge had waved his white flag for about a minute. Ironically enough the Moplah leaders answered with the colored -flags they had looted from the train, and pres- ently, when it was clear that there would be no more shooting for the present, three white-turbaned, long-haired fellows in a kind of khaki uniform, armed with modern rifles and swords slung from the shoulder by a black belt, emerged from the trees and took their stand a little nervously by the ashes where the babu’s zenana had been. The judge with his flag in his hand walked forward to meet him, and Sutherland ac- companied him after cautioning his men. “Shoot at the first sign of treachery!’’ he ordered. “This is no surrender, I promise you that. Merely a palaver. If anything should happen to the judge and me, use your ammunition sparingly and fall back on the railway carriage. Protect the lady at all costs.” He had to run to catch the judge, who was marching like a man in a procession best foot foremost with the flag over his shoulder. “Can you mopple their lingo?” asked Sutherland. “No. No, my lad. Ill speak English to them. Key-language of the world—of the universe for aught we know to the contrary! Keep behind me, and don’t try to interfere.” There is something in cock-sureness after all. It was the key-language. All three of the Moplahs knew English, he with the green flag in the middle almost perfectly. “You surr-ender?” he asked, making a dactyl of the word. “No,” said the judge. tell who I am.”’ The Moplahs bowed—a shade ironically. One can afford to be polite when the out- come is inevitable; and as the agony was to be all on one side there was no harm in prolonging it. THE MOPLAHS had swarmed “T have come to Eomichbooks (E(0)