Adventure Magazine Cover, October 1911 — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

The Road nothing of interest, save the immediate needs of life. MATTERS at the office went as Gessi’s prevision ordained. The newcomer was taken on as unskilled laborer at a low wage. He duly appeared at Gessi’s door to offer, as he loudly declared, his homage to one whom he should ever remember in his prayers. He was invited inside. He was from Signor Gessi’s own commune, it was understood. He would bring news of the countryside. 7 Gessi placed wine before his guest and waited. Sarrasco poured himself out a mugful, drained it, and offered his host a nod of congratulation. “I regret to say I will not be here to enjoy it,” sighed Sar- rasco. “I am not going to take up this appointment which you have secured for me, my friend. I have seen—what I want to see. These Albanian ruffians are every- where. I recognize the difficulties of which you spoke. While I strolled among them, however, a great and God-given inspiration reached me. ways of reaching the Signor Proprietor than by perforating his skin. I even outline in my imagination a scheme by which we can insure his throwing up the whole enterprise and returning to his native land.” ““A safe one?” inquired Gessi. To an outsider his tone would have sounded ex- pressionless. Sarrasco eyed him narrowly. “fA safe one,” he agreed, after a perceptible pause. ‘“‘We shall need a coadjutor. She, I believe, is now beneath this roof. Your daughter.” If Sarrasco expected his companion to show any emotion, he was disappointed. Gessi stood with his head bent at a defer- ential angle; his features did not change; his glance was unfluttered. ‘‘ You may com- mand the services of my family as you would my own, Signor Commandante. Lucia will be honored to give you service. And her duties?” 3 : | “To seek the friendship and society of the lady who most unfortunately received last night the knife-point intended for our friend Signor Agnew. Can she win her confidence? Surely?” 3 Gessi meditated through a silent instant. ‘Matters will go easier where Signor Agnew is not a direct factor in the situation,” he said at last. ‘‘Heis—unexpected. Perhaps you realized that when you attempted the Good fricnd—there are other . 1077 Signor Gresham’s removal on the occasion of your last visit?”’ Sarrasco nodded. ‘No, we avoid compli- cations with the Signor Intendente. Has your daughter any crucial objection to water—as a medium of progress?” “Water?” Gessi murmured. “Water,” repeated Sarrasco, and it was patent that he took a childish delight in the other’s amazement. ‘‘The water of Lake Vodra, to be specific. The Signor Pro- prietor’s daughter seems to have an incli- nation toward boating-excursions. If the Signorina Lucia could be made a partner in these small adventures it would help my scheme enormously. It is a question of tact, is it not? A daughter of yours should possess this rare attribute in overflowing measure, my dear Gessi.”’ The foreman’s face cleared. “It could, after a little time, be arranged,” he assented. “‘There is not a superfluity of boats, Signor Commandante.” ‘Still the one used last night was ap- parently water-tight. We must not expect more. Its owner the fisherman? Can he be easily—used?”’ Gessi hesitated. ‘I do not know, Signor Commandante. He is a man of no stand- ing, something of an outcast, but familiar, as it appears, with Jovan and his Albanian colleagues. Yes, I think he might be used— and cheaply, too.” “So much the better. at home?” The signorina is GESSI opened the door of the inner room and pronounced his daughter’s name. She came silently, arro- gantly, her eyes expressing wonder at the deplorable figure in the chair. Sarrasco rose and bowed elaborately. ‘‘Signorina!’”’ he breathed with obsequious admiration, and then smiled at her astonishment. She was looking inquiringly at her father. “The Signor Commandante Sarrasco, from Headquarters, desires to make your acquaintance, my child.” She bowed in her turn, but without reflecting any of the humor in the other’s aspect. Her eyes were perfectly grave. “At your service, Signor Comman- dante,” she said slowly. And waited. In her air of expectation a critical observer might have diagnosed a faint tinge of sus- picion. CO MICLOOKS ©