Adventure Magazine Cover — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

The Dragon’s Claw a half-ring, looking covertly out of almond eyes that glittered like those of snakes. McNeill’s left arm shot out, caught the waist-cloth of Ling and drew the giant to- ward him. Ling’s right hand shot down to the haft of his knife, but, swifter still, McNeil had drawn his automatic and jabbed its blunt muzzle hard into the stomach of the Mongol. “You dog,” he said, “drop that knife! Drop it or ss ; Ling’s unwrinkled lids were wide now. In his stare came the red light that shoots from the black opal and tells of hate and murder. But the knife dropped to the sand and McNeill put his foot upon it. Then he swiftly searched Ling for more weapons, found another knife and a cheap revolver with three cartridges in the cylin- der. The shells he tossed far away with a jerk, flinging the pistol after them. “Miss Remsden!”’ he called. The girl came running out of the tent. Behind her followed a stout man with a fussy, important face that was scorched rather than tanned, whose clothes fitted him badly and became him worse; a bow-legged, bow-stomached person who most evidently essayed to be a personage and who strutted like a gosling. His pale gray eyes were inclined to pop and now they strained at the action going forward. ““What’s this McNeill, what’s this?” he de- manded in a pompous voice. McNeill paid no attention to him, speaking to the girl. “My rifle—in my tent! And then get yours!” She got the first and sped back for the second. McNeill stepped back from Ling who had stood immovable since the drop- ping of the knife. The muzzle of the rifle swung in an arc of command about the semicircle of Mongols. “First to move, moves once only,” warned McNeill. “‘Now then, Mr. Rems- den, please go over them carefully and re- move all their weapons. Miss Helen will help you cover them one by one as you go about it.”’ 7 Remsden’s red face had gone patchy and his hands shook but the nervousness of the man was evidently purely physical. He was not a coward and he nerved himself up to his task, backed by the girl. At McNeill’s directions he tossed the miscel- laneous assortment of weapons into a heap. The latter ordered Ling to make them into 141 a bundle, using a sheepskin and tying the package firmly with strips of leather. “T’ll carry this,” said McNeill, ‘‘till we come to the first hole, dirt or water. Now then break camp, leave the tents and heavy baggage. Saddle up! Jump!” THEY jumped and McNeill, rifle at carry, walked to his own tent and picked up his field-glasses as the Mongols, spurred into feverish activity, stripped down the canvas. McNeill fo- cussed his lenses and looked anxiously to- ward the western hills. After a little hesi- tation Remsden came over to him. “What have you found out, Neill?” he asked. “What was it? A mutiny?” McNeill turned on him. “T’ll answer you that question,” he said, ‘“‘when you tell me what you were up to at the temple. I suspected something when you wanted to come away in such a tearing hurry.” Remsden blinked at him from between his sandy eyelashes. r= ‘“‘Why there was nothing to stay for any longer,” he said. ‘We had seen the ritual. I had got all I wanted.” “T don’t doubt it,” said McNeill. point is, what did you get?” Remsden blustered. “T employed you as guide and interpreter, Mr. McNeill, not to poke into my private affairs.” ‘As things have turned out they are my private affairs,” said McNeill coldly, “if my life is my private affair, which I think it is. To say nothing of your stepdaughter’s life, I don’t know just how highly you value your own.” He broke off to hasten the final prepara- tions for departure. The girl was already mounted. Remsden got patchy again and then his face flamed angrily. “You have given me no explanation,” he barked. “I repeat that whatever I do on this trip for which I hired you, has nothing to do with the contract. What has hap- pened?” “T caught Ling heliographing to a party in the hills,” said McNeill briefly. “I think he was answering orders to delay us. I took up a collection of their cutlery to prevent a throat-cutting. I don’t know yet whether I have succeeded. Look at that dust cloud there where the sun catches it. That’s a party after us and they will come “The Gomicbooks.co =)