All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

846 its feet and made slow progress out of the interior gloom into the shimmer of morning sunlight on the green fields. Tomasz plucked at Vera’s arm half timidly; half with a sense of the new proprietorship that was his. They, too, passed out of the church and _ stood blinking in the light with their friends. “ My wife!” said Tomasz choking- ly, and drew her to him with strong arms that quivered. Vera gave herself submissively to his will—felt how his lips strained to suffocation upon hers. A cry suddenly burst from her and she tore herself loose from his hold. One hand she pressed instinctively to her heaving bosom, and the other went THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. to her throat, bare above the open collar of her blouse. Something felt cold and hard against her warm flesh beneath the pressure of her fingers—something, the chill of which sent a tremor through her, Her fingers closed round the object and she pulled it forth covertly as far as the gold chain attaching it to her neck would allow. Her hands held an old-fashioned locket in which reposed a_ painted miniature. Dully, as if far away, but still echo- ing through the caverns of memory, she seemed to hear said: “Keep it! It is the most precious thing I possess.” Edg, ar go Burroughs : b J @ Ease to CHAPTER I. ON THE RIVER ISS. N the shadows of the forest that flanks the crimson plain by the side of the Lost Sea of Korus in the Valley Dor, beneath the hurtling moons of Mars, speeding their meteoric way close above the bosom of the dying planet, I crept stealthily along the trail of a shadowy form that hugged the darker places with a consistency that proclaimed the sinister nature of its errand. “Under “fe Moons of Mars and * CAe.Gods of Mars” For six long Martian months I had haunted the vicinity of the hateful Temple of the Sun, within whose slow- revolving shaft, far beneath the sur- face of Mars, my princess lay en- tombed—but whether alive or dead I knew not. Had Phaidor’s slim blade found that beloved heart? ‘Time only would reveal the truth. Six hundred and eighty-seven Mar- tian days must come and go before the cell’s door would again come opposite the tunnel’s end where last I had seen my ever-beautiful Dejah ‘Thoris. comicloooks.com