Adventure Magazine Cover — page 182: what you’re looking at

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

| ~ stitution. 168 “T have come here to tell you a straight tale,” he commenced and recited, omitting no detail, the history of the claw from the time he had first met Remsden and, at- tracted by Helen, agreed to act as guide and interpreter. Through it all the two princes sat like statues, immutable, their eyes only shown by narrow bars of glitter- ing jet between their narrowed lids. So did the imperial mandarins sit in justice. At the close Ten Shin started to exchange a few words with his cousin, but McNeill interrupted: “T understand the Mandarin dialect,” he said. Ten Shin and Liu Chi gravely nodded an acknowledgment. “That is very honorable of you,” said the latter. ‘And honor does not dwell in unclean places.” But, for all their politeness, McNeill believed the thing had beena test. Anyway he had scored. “Your tale is well told,” said Liu Chi. “Yet we can not think why you should think us especially interested. The mu- seums of England, of France, of all coun- tries hold relics of past races. Our own country has long been overrun by con- querors; it is the most polyglot of nations, of mixed blood, mixed faiths. ‘The old order changeth, yielding place to new,’ as Tennyson writes. And we, my cousin and myself, are of the new order. “We can not hold any responsibility for Mr. Remsden’s emotions. The Hoang Lung is a far-reaching organization, linked by mysticism as it is. It is possible that some of their members may have attempted to threaten Mr. Remsden and play upon his fears, but, of a surety, we do not wish the claw. We were curious to see it, yes, but there our interest ceases. We came here for things concerning this generation and those to come, Mr. McNeill, long before Mr. Remsden visited the temple of Hoang Lung. You must be aware of that. “You seem to make it very plain that neither Miss Remsden nor yourself were implicated in this matter or in the sub- I sincerely trust that, if any members of the Hoang Lung are in doubt as to this, they may be convinced before they carry out any threats, if they so intend.” McNeill, listening to the smooth syllables, with all the difficult r’s sounded perfectly, Adventure knew that Liu Chi was lying, but he could do nothing. They also thought that he had lied concerning the innocence of Helen and himself in the affair, or they did not care. Ten Shin took up the talk. “We can not pretend to influence such of our countrymen who may still cling to superstition,’ he said. ‘‘We have de- liberately severed ourselves from such. We shall hope, of course, to teach them better in time. We are sorry we can do nothing for you, glad to have listened to you. We would suggest that, for Mr. Remsden’s peace of mind, he might open up negotiations for the return or exchange of the claw, speaking merely as those having knowledge of the workings of the Chinese trend of thought. One unfortunate national characteristic of ours is revenge, particu- larly when allied to faiths, however loosely founded. “You evidently, from the style of the communication conveyed to Mr. Remsden, have to do with a clever mentality. I would suggest that any reprisal that might be intended would be divided into two parts—punishment and insistence upon the return of the true relic. As long as Mr. Remsden seems the key, the only key to that return, so long will he be safe from punishment. As to the reference to Miss Remsden, speaking again from the general understanding of my more bigoted and ignorant countrymen, I fear, I greatly fear that, even if we could interfere, it would be too late.”’ ‘‘Just exactly what do you mean?” asked McNeill. The absolutely unemotional, even pro- nunciation, like drops of water falling on the bar of a xylophone, the mask-like faces, the atmosphere of the room with its dim lights, masked windows, a hint of incense, had gradually chilled him. These men were pitiless. “Mr. Remsden was warned yesterday.” Then Helen had been already struck in some mysterious way. McNeill’s fingers gripped his automatic. His muscles tensed. A telephone sounded. “Your call, I think, Mr. McNeill.” He had asked Helen to call him, partly to assure her that he was working in her interests, partly as a bluff to the princes. His spirit lightened as he heard her voice. ‘“‘And I suppose I have you to thank for Gomichboo CS (E@) mn