Adventure Magazine Cover — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

Om earth. The melody was possible, but it took imagination to discover it. Elec- tricity was possible a thousand years ago; but until imagination hinted at the possi- bility, who had the use of it?” Ommony returned the stone to his pocket. He was interested, and he liked Chutter Chand, but it occurred to him that he was wasting time. “You're right, of course,” he said, ‘“‘that we have to imagine a thing before we can begin to understand it or produce or make it.” ‘Surely. You imagined your forest, Ommonee, before you planted it. But be- tween imagination and production there is labor. I think you will labor dreadfully! “You see, what the West can’t under- stand it scoffs at; whereas, what the East can’t understand it calls sacred and guards against all comers! I think you will have to penetrate a secret that has been guarded for thousands of years. “They say, you know, that there are ‘Masters’ who guard these secrets and let them out a little at a time! May the gods wiom you happen to vote for be grateful for your loyalty and help you! I would like to go on the adventure with you—but ITamafamily man. Iamafraid. Iam not strong. That stone has thrilled me, Om- monee!”’ . “If you like, Vl leave it with you for some more experiments,” said Ommony. ‘““Sahib—my friend—I wouldn’t keep it for a raja’s ransom! It was traced to this place—how, I don’t know. You noticed the policeman at the door? He is put there to keep out murderers! “There has been a rufhan here—a, Hill- man—a cutthroat who said he came from Spiti—a great savage with a saw-edge tulwar! Ugh! He demanded the stone. He demanded to know where it was. If it had not been that I had a shop full of cus- tomers, and that I promised to try to get the stone back from the man who now had it, he would have cut me in halves! I am afraid all the time that he will return, or that some of his friends will come. “Oh, I wish I had your lack of an imagina- tion, Ommonee! I could feel his saw-edged tulwar plunging into me! Listen!’ Chut- ter Chand began to tremble visibly. ‘Who is that?” Ommony glanced into the shop. There were two men, evidently unarmed or the 69 “‘constabeel’’ would never have admitted them, standing talking to the clerk across the showcase-counter. One was appar- ently a very old man and the other very young. Both were dressed in the Tibetan cos- tume; but the older man was speaking English, which was of itself sufficiently remarkable, and he appeared to be slightly amused because the clerk insisted that Chutter Chand was “‘absent on a journey..” Neither man paid the slightest attention to the jewelry in the showcase; they were evi- dently bent on seeing Chutter Chand, and nothing else. “Admit ’em!”? whispered Ommony. “T’ll hide. No, never mind the dog; she'll fol- low them in and sniff them over. If they ask about the dog, say she belongs to one of your customers who left her in your charge for an hour or two. What’s behind that brass Buddha?” “Nothing, sahzb. no back.” “That'll do then. Help me pull it out from the wall—quick!—quiet!”’ They made rather a lot of noise, and Diana came in to investigate. Ommony gave her orders sotto voce, and she returned into the shop to watch the ‘two curious visitors. | ‘“‘Now don’t let yourself get frightened out of your wits, Chutter Chand. En- courage ’em to talk. Ask any idiotic ques- tion that occurs to you. When they’se ready to go, let ’em. And then what- ever you do, don’t say a word to the policeman.”’ Ommony stepped behind the image of the Buddha. Chutter Chand, leaning all his weight against it, shoved it back nearly into place, but left sufficient space between It is hollow. There is - it and the wall for Ommony to see into an - old, cracked mirror that reflected almost everything in the room. Then, taking a visible hold on his emo- tions, Chutter Chand strode to the door and stood there for a moment looking— listening—trying to breathe normally. He forced a smile at last. “Oh, let them in—I will talk to them,” he said to the clerk in English with an air of almost perfect, patronizing nonchalance. Only a very close observer might have known he was afraid—that fear perhaps in him was more than “recognition of some- thing that the senses do not understand.” MICLOOOK C@© inn