Adventure Magazine Cover, October 1911 — page 183: what you’re looking at

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

The Woman With the Wolves “‘T bowed myself out and asked the butler where I could find Lovell. He told me to go to the kennel-house, and pointed to a light at the back of the house (we had come out of a side door) and left me to find my own way. I think his dignity was hurt at the idea of a detective running his eye over the maids. : “‘T went along down the dark side of the house to where the wolves are kept, and, passing through a shrubbery, came out all at once to a biggish building that had a wire run stretching away from it like a very long fowl-run. The wire seemed to me to be very little thicker than a telegraph wire. Half a dozen big, dark shapes—with eyes—were trotting up and down this run. Every now and then one or other of them would stop and stare at me and let out a little howl. ‘There was a light in a doorway at the side and I went in. A man—Lovell—was sitting there in a sort of kennel-kitchen reading a paper by the light of a hurricane lamp. He was smoking and had his feet cocked up one each side of the fireplace. He stood up civilly enough when I came in. I noticed that he had a pair of heavy hob- nailed country boots on. He was better dressed than the ordinary Gipsy, but any one could see at a glance that he was Gipsy to his finger-tips. “*<Sir?’ says he, very quiet, putting down his pipe and paper. “Are you Lovell?’ I asked. ““Yes, sir.’ For a Gipsy he had very steady eyes. He kept ’em fixed on me all the time, quite respectfully, you understand, but not the least bit nervous or afraid. “Why climb on the balcony, Lovell?’ I said. ‘It’s not nice—Madame Dolgourki thinks it’s impertinent. And, anyway, it’s irregular.’ ‘**T beg pardon, sir, climb on the balconies, sir?’ heasked. And he did it well—he’s over intelligent for a kennel-man. His eyes led mine, in the most innocent way, to his heavy boots. “Quite so, Lovell,’ I said. ‘You don’t understand what I mean, I know. You don’t climb balconies—in hobnail boots. That’s all right. Where have you put the rubber-soled shoes you used? Oh, it doesn’t matter. Call it my joke.’ ‘His face hardened a bit at that. “Excuse me, sir,’ he said. ‘Have you had permission to come here?’ He gave a 1129 sort of little click with his tongue when he said this. I didn’t like his tone. ‘**T have, my friend,’ I said. ““*From Her Highness?’ he clicked his tongue again. ““*From Madame Dolgourki, representing Her Highness.’ I was mild enough, for I wanted to see how far he would go. “Where is your pass, sir? We have had accidents at the kennels’—‘dens’ was the word ke used—‘ before, and it is a rule now that visitors have to get a pass.’ “Pass, my man?’ I said. ‘My name and business is my pass, if necessary.’ I think I was getting angry. He gave a sort of grim smile. ‘““*Scotland Yard, or Y. M. C. A—it’s all one to the wolves,’ says he and something in his eyes suggested to me that I should turn round. I did so quickly—and I’m bound to confess that. a chill fluttered along my spine. Four great wolves were sitting quictly in a row against the wall behind me. They had, I suppose, come out of their ‘dens’ when he clicked his tongue. They sat there, quietly enough, like four big, grayish dogs, their eyes half-closed and their tongues hang- ing out. “**Tt’s all one to the wolves,’ says Lovell. ‘T’ll tell them you’re from Scotland Yard, sir, if you like.’ He let out a gleam at me from his eyes. “*T see that you are a wag, my Romeo,’ I said, ‘only take my advice and don’t over- do the wit. It’s a bit of a boomerang some- times.’ It occurred to me that the reception he had given me spoke ill for his conscience and I decided to make a long shot. “*“Lovell,’ I said, one eye on him and one on the four fiends by the wall, ‘you’re a Gipsy—and a man can’t disappear in the forest under your very nose, so to speak, without your eyes and instincts showing you something about it. You’ve seen the spot where that turf is cut. What do you make of it? What do you know about it?’ “‘He signed to the wolves and they cleared off through an open hatchway in the wall. Then he looked at me. “¢T’veseen nothing—and I know nothing,’ he says. ‘What do I care about Major Stark?’ He moved across to the stove where he seemed to be boiling food for the Prin- cess’s pets. “TI got up. ““Tovell, I believe you’re lying,’ I told him. ‘If you are, look out! Do you think Comicbook C©