Adventure Magazine Cover — page 160: what you’re looking at

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

146 their safety to Peking. At the last mo- ment, when McNeill had crawled off to the cliff edge on a reconnoitering expedition, the girl rebelled. ‘We shall not go without McNeill,” she declared. “At least I shall not. He is deliberately sacrificing himself for us.” “Vou are talking foolishly, my dear,” answered Remsden nervously. ‘McNeill is not a fool. He is not throwing away his own life. I have promised to reward him munificiently when we are safe in Peking, and——”’ The girl looked at him scornfully. “Vou think everything can be bought with gold,” she said. “Well,” answered her stepfather with smug complacence, “there are few things that can not. By the way, you may give me back the wallet. It will be safe with me now. I was afraid of light fingers while the Chinese were with us. I sleep so much sounder than you.” Contempt still in her eyes, the girl took a leather wallet from her bosom and gave it to Remsden. The latter furtively fingered its bulk and slid it out of sight before Mc- Neill came back through the brush. “They are down in the ravine,”’ he said. “They have found the body of Ling. Soon they will be coming along the ledge. I shall use our prisoners as a barrier until you have got well away. Then I shall come after you, but do not wait for me. I am sure you will get through all right, and there is no need to worry about me. I shall be at the Imperial Hotel within a few hours after you—perhaps before. Take the right- hand gully. Go slowly at first and be careful not to throw up any dust. If you find a boat get rid of the ponies. Don’t give them away; turn them loose as soon as you see your way clear on the river. Now off with you; I have got to get back to the entrance.’’ He saw the rebellion in Helen’s eyes. “Au revoir, Miss Remsden,” he said. “Let me help you mount. I assure you that I am in no more danger in remaining than you in going—probably less. On my word of honor!” She looked deep into his eyes and slowly blushed. “Tf you do not arrive when you say, within a few hours of us,”’ that Remsden, for all his straining ears, could not catch the words, “‘I shall come she said, so low’ Adventure back after you.” McNeill saw them disappear into the gully, his hat off to the girl, and then hastened down again to the tunnel. He picked out one of the Mongols and pricked him ahead with his knife-blade until the latter showed himself reluctantly at the cave entrance. Immediately there was a flash from the opposite cliff, the singing of a bullet, the spang of its lead on the rocky lintel of the cave and the echoing report. The China- man shrank back, and McNeill laughed. ‘They meant that for me, Ba-ti,”’ he said. “Presently Vl return the compliment.” He had no intention of firing where he was not sure of a target. Every moment gained helped Remsden and the girl and, when he did fire, he wanted to put the fear of his marksmanship into the priests. They thought they had him earthed. A good shot or so would make them cautious. He tightened up the foot-ropes of the Mongol and put him back with the rest. Then he made a little barricade of loose stones and sat down to guard the ledge. He did not dare expose himself to harass those in the ravine but he hoped that they would attempt to rush the narrow path. Two hours passed and then a fusillade of bullets smashed about the cave mouth and buzzed down the tunnel. The corners of McNeill’s mouth turned up into a little grin. He squinted down the ledge, lying flat in a conduit he had made of the rocks, thrusting his rifle through a niche. As he expected, a rush wason. A cluster of racing figures turned a shoulder of rock and McNeill began firing rapidly, but with definite aim. Two figures leaped up and plunged into the gulf; another sprawled out on the ledge; a fourth dragged back around the buttress. “That will keep them thinking for a while,” McNeill told himself. “I wonder how about the other direction?” He turned over and, even as he turned, heard the soft pad of swiftly running feet. The priests of Hoang Lung had split and had meant to attack simultaneously. Some inequalities of the path had hindered their perfect junction, and once again McNeill’s rifle took heavy toll. ‘Two men, shot almost simultaneously, whirled, clutched at each other and went spinning down. “That’ll teach ’em not to be in too much of a hurry,’ muttered McNeill as he slid Gomicbooks.co