Adventure Magazine Cover — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

The Grand Cham do not forget a wrong, Rudolf6. Where- fore, death follows in your track.” “And what manner of man was he you caught?” inquired Soranzi uncomfortably. “A Tatar who sighted our cavalcade and followed ’till more of his fellows could be summoned and our merchants despoiled. Mark me, Soranzi, the Tatars are grim enow, yet they attack boldly and do not slit throats 7 the night. Nay, they would rip your belly with a sword. You would fare better with them.” Soranzi squirmed and the men-at-arms muttered under their breath. All glanced up and down the wooded ravine and at the impassive rock shrine. Suddenly Gian broke the silence with a great oath and strode to Michael, his dagger flashing in his hand. The point of the weapon. he set against the Breton’s bare throat. Michael, after a quick glance at the ring of armed men, had not moved. “Speak the truth, master,” he growled, “or your gullet will be slit for the ants to crawl in. What devil’s work brought us to this place? Whence lies Trebizond? Speak!’ The man’s face was twisted by anger and fear. Michael smiled, for he could read Gian like a book and the man’s action and words had told him three things. One—Rudolfo had confided in his lieu- tenant that the Breton was to be made captive or done away with, or Gian would not have dared what he did. Two— Rudolfo, as well as Clavijo, had lost his bearings but did not wish the men.to know it. Three—they were all afraid, and so much the more easily handled. “You have got yourself a new poniard, Gian,” he observed, “‘in place of the one you cast at me and Rudolfo tossed overside. It was a poor cast for such a clever thrower.” He paused interrogatively and the man, angered, caught at the bait before Rudolfo could speak. “The mast—” he muttered and stopped. “Death and damnation!’ “The mast interfered with your throw? Precisely. Then, after the mock attack of the pirates—I thought them in the hire of Clavijo till your master cast aside his mask just now—had failed to despoil our venture for Rudolfo’s profit, your master waited till he was beyond the last bailio of Venice. Men will wag their tongues. ‘It was necessary to have us beyond the 149 bailio and the trade-routes before Rudolfo could seize the gold and riches entrusted to Clavijo by the council. That is why we are here, Gian,” SY MICHAEL had guessed at this, but ) he had hit the mark. Gian glanced at his master inquiringly, but Mi- chael spoke first. “Do not make another mistake, Gian. With my life, your guidance would be lost. If you doubt it, ask Rudolfo whither lies Trebizond.” “You will tell us,’’ said the condoltiere dryly. “Tut, signor; have you time to waste? Soranzi—a bargain. My safety and Bem- bo’s pledged on your word, and we guide you to safety? Do you agree?” It was to the men-at-arms rather than the merchant that Michael directed this shaft. The Venetian was thinking furiously and he nodded. “Agreed. But stay—what proof that you can bear us hence?” “The Tatar hes i’ the thicket yonder, bound with his own belt. Your addle pates, Rudolfo, would never find him. But bid them look i’ the thorns behind the shrine——” In a moment Gian and his worthies dragged forth a squat figure, wrapped hand and foot with strips torn from a shawl girdle. His broad head was set close to square shoulders, and while his body was long and muscular, his legs were short and bowed. His slant eyes glared at his captors who freed his ankles so that he could stand without difficulty. . The Tatar’s sword had been tossed by Michael into the bushes, well out of the prisoner’s reach. « “What this man knows he will tell me,” explained Michael, “and no man of you save, perchance, Bembo will understand aught of what he says. I know a word that will conjure us our safety through Tatary.”’ Hereupon the men-at-arms crossed them- selves and muttered under their breath. They were more than ever convinced that Michael had ntercourse with the powers of evil and that this native was his familiar. ‘The bargain is struck,” asserted Soranzi again. But out of the corner of his eye Michael saw Rudolfo gnawing his thumb and pres- ently, leaning toward Gian, to whisper a EOmichbooks:co