Adventure Magazine Cover — page 166: what you’re looking at

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

152 -loose and available white man in Peking or its vicinity who could get away for such a trip. Their ages varied from twenty-two to fifty, and they were all as hard as nails. Every one of them knew how to handle a gun and was not afraid to do so. Better, they knew when not to do so. McNeill stood apart in talk with a bearded man who had built many miles of railroad in interior China only to see his _ work undone by fanatic hordes, urged on by the priests. Neill’s field-glasses were slung at his sides, and he unbuckled the case and took them out. “The moon’ll be up in a few minutes, Wilson,” he said. ‘‘It’s lightening over the eastern ridge now. Canfield and I are going in alone on foot as soon as it rises. After we've fixed things at the first arch we'll camp in one of the caves. I'll go in soon after dawn—alone.”’ “Tt seems foolhardy to do that, Neill,” said Wilson. ‘‘Wouldn’t at least a display of force help out? Of course you’re run- ning this show.” “T’ve gone over it very carefully,” said McNeill. ‘I’ve got to make the play single- handed. At eight o’clock, if they are not coming through, you know what to expect. If I don’t show up here by nine, or you don’t see me coming, then you take command and do whatever you think best, not forgetting that it is more than probable that Miss , Remsden and myself will be past doing for. ‘Here comes the moon. Now then, take the glasses and look about sou’-west-by- sou’. There are parallel ridges leading in that general direction and Canfield and I will keep the valleys, though I don’t think there is much fear of a lookout. They are expecting us, no doubt, but it is our move and they are not likely to be worrying about it. We are three days tio the good. You can use the ridges for cover tomorrow if things go wrong with me.” Wilson, the glasses to. his eyes, only grunted. ‘The arches, particularly the first one, were plain to see, their stones silvered by the moon, now clear of the ridge. ‘“°S up to you,” said Wilson at last, “till eight o’clock tomorrow. Then it’s up tome. Goin’ to take horses?” “No. Less noise, less risk. We can pack all we need easily enough. A good deal depends on getting our work done abso- lutely unobserved.” “Tf you don’t come back,” said Wilson Adventure gruffly, “or if they’ve done anything to that girl, I’m telling you one thing, McNeill, before noon tomorrow the inhabitants of Hoang Lung are going to think hell, or whatever their heathen equivalent for Gehenna is, has opened under their feet. We’ve got the stuff to do it with and we’ve got the boys who know how to use it.” They walked back to the rest of the expe- dition in silence. McNeill had deliber- ately shut off from his mental vision all thoughts of what might have happened to Helen Remsden. Suggestions of bronze tubes filled with boiling water and twisted around her dainty limbs, thoughts of all the fantastic refinements of devilish torture that might be practised upon her, he deliberately dismissed as unnerving and destructive to the job in hand. He did not trust the priests. Once they had obtained the claw, they would be likely to endeavor to get revenge on those who had had any hand in the defilement of the sacred relic. He had laid plans accordingly. Canfield came forward to meet them, the youngest of the troop, a man absolutely reckless, once given his head, but possessing the rare quality of being able to take orders from a man he acknowledged capable of giving them. “Ready to go, McNeill?”’ he asked. “Tf you are.” “Righto,” returned Canfield, Britisher and younger son. “Got all my little duds packed for the picnic.” “Then we’re off,’ announced McNeill. The talk stopped, pipes and cigarets were taken briefly from mouths that quietly wished ‘“‘good night” and “good luck,” and the two started on their hike. Oe figures glided away from the dark shadow of the first arch and, blend- ing in the inequalities of the cliff face, after they had passed the length of the stone wall in a low crouch, carefully paying out a thin thread as they went, disappeared in a niche where the face of the precipice had warped apart. There they compared watches carefully. “We'll check again in the morning, Can- field,” said McNeill. “I want to pull this thing off to the second, if possible. It’s three o’clock now. ‘These priests are a lazy crowd. I won’t start until seven and even then they won’t be stirring. That gives AN HOUR and a half later two Eomicbooks.co