Adventure, December 1914 — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

The Lancing walled city of Astrabad lay helpless for the taking; but shrewd calculation underlay his order for a prompt retreat. To have loosed his men now, with leave to plunder, would have wasted time and have forwarded no cause but Russia’s. In the end he be- lieved that his appeal would lie to the outer world, and he meant to give that world no good excuse for listening to Russia’s lies about brigands in North Persia and the dire consequent necessity for Cossacks to protect foreigners and foreign country. His ragged line stood still gazing in won- der at him in the flush of his new success, gaping belief, now, more than ever of Usbeg Ali Khan’s wild story, that made him Alex- ander of Macedon reincarnated. But he cantered down among the spaced-out com- panies, letting the sunlight flash along the blade of his strange jeweled claymore, and his voice was like the cracking of great whips, as he made his will known, his seat in the saddle that of a man who is obeyed. ‘“Back!’”” he ordered. hills again!’’ “Plunder!” they murmured. loot the city first!’ They only asked leave to do what Cos- sacks in their place would probably have done without asking leave at all and what Persians have always done since history evolved from fable; they asked blood for blood—loot for loot—vengeance for ven- geance—payment for ravished homes. And they were backed in their demand by Usbeg Ali Khan, the Afghan gentleman-adven- turer, who thought no victory complete without its logical corollary. “Let them loot, bahadur!’’ he advised, riding up to Dick’s side. ‘‘What other payment have they for their services? Let them pay themselves, as the custom is; then, exact full credit for it, and work them the harder afterwards!’’ Dick wheeled on him, spinning his big horse in one of those swift movements that were as disconcerting as they were char- acteristic. For a moment two chargers pawed the air, and Usbeg Ali Khan be- lieved his hour had come, for Dick’s eyes gleamed strangely and his jaw was set hard; the Afghan had not quite learned yet to recognize the sign of reached decision; he mistook it for cold anger on occasion. : “T made you second-in-command! What are you doing here? Take the left wing “Back to your “Let us of the Whale 63 and answer for your men’s behavior! Join your command, sir!’’ He made a sweeping gesture with his claymore toward a half-mile line of men, and his words were loud and clear enough for half of them to hear, for his voice crashed and reverberated when he had roused himself for action. “The whole line will retire!’ he thun- dered. ‘“‘Usbeg Ali Khan will lead the rear-guard!”’ Without another word he spurred _to the far end of the other wing where his seven hundred horsemen were drawn up and Andry Macdougal leaned, swearing soft, endearing oaths at the machine-gun. The thing had answered to the big man’s touch that dawn like magic, dealing death by wholesale, so—since his heart was like a little child’s in most things—he all but wept his admiration for the thing. “Where awa’?” called Andry. awa’, Mr. Dicky?” Dick reined in, and the huge man laid a hand on the charger’s withers. “Back to the hills, Andry. Are your men in hand?” “Ou-aye!”’ The great, grim Scotsman turned to look at what he called his “thirty yoke o’ hu- mans,’ and they seemed to come to life beneath his gaze. “Man—Mr. Dicky—they think I’m the de’il—an’ when I luke at yon dead Roosians I’m no’ sae verra sure the chiels are no’ recht! They’ll do what I say or I'll prove I’m a de’il, an’ they ken that verra weel! Aye! They’re certainly in han”) “Then lead the way! Lead off with your gun! Back along the way we came!” “But—Mr. Dicky——” “What” Dick’s eyebrows—generally level and at rest—began to rise impatiently. When a man knew the meaning of discipline, he seldom cared to accept less than the real, quick, ready thing from him. “About Marie——?” ‘“Marie who?” “Man! Her that’s waitin’-wumman on the Princess yonder!”’ Dick scowled at the horizon. A cloud of dark dust curled and eddied above a low hill and stampeding Cossacks; beyond the cloud, he knew, was the Princess who had interfered and played with him, until he was outlaw who had once been proud Scots ‘Where NOOK C©