All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

868 might not be delayed too long in this chamber while Matai Shang and Thu- rid made way with Dejah Thoris and Thuvia of Ptarth. The fellow was a clever swordsman —resourceful and extremely tricky. In fact, he seemed never to have heard that there existed such a thing as a code of honor, for he repeatedly out- raged a dozen Barsoomian fighting customs that an honorable man would rather die than ignore. He even went so far as to snatch his holy wig from his head and throw it in my face, so as to blind me for a moment while he thrust at my unpro- tected breast. When he thrust, however, I was not there. for I had fought with therns before; and while none had ever re- sorted to precisely that same expedient, I knew them to be the least honorable and most treacherous fighters upon Mars, and so was ever on the alert for some new and devilish subterfuge when I was engaged with one of their race. But at length he overdid the thing; for, drawing his short sword, he hurled it, javelinwise, at my body, at the same instant rushing upon ine with his long sword. A single sweeping circle of my own blade caught the flying weapon and hurled it clattering against the far wall, and then, as I side-stepped my antagonist’s impetuous rush, [ let him have my point full in the stomach as he hurtled by. Clear to the hilt my weapon passed through his body, and with a fright ful shriek he sank to the floor, dead. Halting only for the brief instant that was required to wrench ny sword from the carcass of my late antagonist, I sprang across the chamber to the blank wall beyond, through which the thern had attempted to pass. Here I sought for the secret of its lock, but all to no avail, In despair I tried to force the thing, but the cold, unyielding stone might well have laughed at my futile, puny endeavors. In iact, I conld have sworn that I caught the faint sugges- THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. tion of taunting laughter from beyond the baffling panel. In disgust I desisted from my use- less efforts and stepped to the cham- ber’s single window. The slopes of Otz and the distant Valley of Lost Souls held nothing to compel my interest then; but, tower- ing far above me, the tower’s carved wall riveted my keenest attention. Somewhere within that massive pile was Dejah Thoris. .\bove me I could see windows. There, possibly, lay the only way by which I could reach her. The risk was great, but not too great when the fate of a world’s most won- drous woman was at stake. [ glanced below. A hundred feet beneath lay jagged granite boulders at the brink of a frightful chasm upon which the tower abutted; and if not upon the boulders, then at the chasm’s bottom, lay death, should a foot slip but once, or clutching fingers lose their hold for the fraction of an instant. But there was no other way and with a shrug, which I must admit was half shudder, I stepped to the window’s outer sill and began my perilous ascent aloft. To my dismay I found that, unlike the ornamentation upon most Helium- atic structures, the edges of the carv- ings were quite generally rounded, so that at best my every hold was most precarious. Fifty feet above me commenced a series of projecting cylindrical stones some six inches in diameter. These apparently circled the tower at six-foot intervals, in bands six feet apart; and as each stone cylinder protruded some four or five inches beyond the surface of the other ornamentation, they pre- sented a comparatively easy mode of ascent could I but reach them. Laboriously I climbed toward them by way of some windows which lay below them, for I hoped that I might find ingress to the tower through one of these, and thence an easier avenue along which to prosecute my search. At times so slight was my hold upon comicloooks.com