Adventure, August 1917 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

Rotorua Rex stood Serena Hargrave and her aunt, the girl fully dressed in short skirt and linen blouse with knee-high boots, her own shot- gun with her. Mrs. Gower had on a travel- ing suit and clutched a tiny pistol in one hand. Loudon silently opened the shutters. Far up the mountains a peak glowed sulfur yellow—the dusk was rapidly dissolving. “Take cartridges and hurry,” he said. ‘“We haven’t a second to lose.” The girl took a soft leather bag from her bosom and handed it to Loudon. “Will you put this in one of your pock- ets,” she said. “I might lose them. They are the pearls. We took your advice and buried the money last night in the scrub.” She caught up a canvas game-bag and filled it with the cartridges that Loudon had broken out, handing it to the sergeant who slung it across his shoulder. Mrs. Gower took one of the four rifles, the sergeant an- other, strapping the revolver about his waist while Serena picked up the second shotgun. Neither of the women showed the slight-- est sign of panic. They might have been starting off upon a hunting trip as they swiftly crossed the lawn and entered the scrub. “We must get in touch with Rotorua,” said Loudon. “If we can warn him in time we’ll be fairly well-armed. Surprise is the master play in this revolution.” The sulfur glow was flowing fast down the distant crests. Toruki must be hard upon the settlement. He would leave the bungalow to the white men for the while until he stormed the palace, Loudon figured. And the whites would not travel as fast as the islanders. The guava scrub began to thin out as they mounted a rise. Between them and the settlement now lay a belt of dense forest that ran far back into the hills along a spur that joined a labyrinth of gulfs and but- tresses jutting from the main range. It was hard going but they did not dare ex- pose themselves nearer the beach. The women stuck to it gamely, burdened as they were by the firearms. They were fairly in the fringe of the forest when an explosion shattered the quiet of the dawn. As if at a signal, the sky lightened with the swift illumination of a stage effect. A myriad birds rose screaming from the trees. Yells of triumph broke out and 127 blended with cries of consternation and sur- prise, followed by the crack of rifle fire. “Blown hup the magazine,” said the ser- geant. ‘‘Foxy, that, sir.” Rotorua was now left with only a few rounds for the rifles of the dismantled guard and these were being fired rapidly. Loudon peered back through the trees to where he could see the bungalow and a strip of the lawn behind it. The door they had closed behind them burst open before the exit of three men. It was light enough to recog- nize them as the Hawks, arrived too late to swoop upon the covey that was already flushed. They ran stooping about the gar- den, looking for the direction of the flight. The lean figure of the skipper called to them and they reentered the house. ‘They have found the safe,’’ said Loudon. “That will give us a better start.” “Unless,’’ said the girl, “they happen to have a can-opener with them.” He stared at her before he remembered his own remark and laughed. Serena had a sense of humor. It made her seem more human somehow. The sound of scattered shots and shouting seemed to be drawing closer. The king was making a running fight of it and he was coming their way. A bullet whined overhead, finding a clear path through an aisle of the forest. They could see figures darting between the trees, seeking cover and firing back at the pursuit. Only a few bore rifles and now and then one - of the weapons was tossed away. ‘“‘They are out of ammunition,” said Lou- don. “But they mustn’t throw away their guns. ‘They are only arming the enemy. Where is Rotorua? We must cover their retreat. You ladies get back, we'll follow. Give Bristol your rifle, Mrs. Gower. You can take the shotgun. They may be useful at close quarters.” “Give it to me, Bristol,” said the girl. ‘Are you a good shot, Mr. Loudon?” “Not particularly, with a rifle.” “Well, I am. Aunt can go on if she wants to.” : She stood by the thick trunk of a rau tree handling the weapon Bristol gave her with cool dexterity. Loudon flashed her a look of admiration. “‘T couldn’t hit a barn,” said Mrs. Gower. “But I can load.” Her head was up, her parroty nose a-sniff, her eyes glittering. CoOmiclsoo CO 5}