Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 3 — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

THE TORCH. “ This afternoon while we were all busy on that new wall near Frederick’s tower,” Murph went on eagerly, “ about midway to evening, our guard got drowsy with the warm air and stretched himself behind a stone pile, well out of sight of his captain, you may be sure! ‘“ None of the rest of the lads noticed it; but I did, and don’t you forget! Poor fools, they’re stronger than I, and they slaved away. like ants in that blazing sun; but wise old Murph, who’s got misery in his bones, but a sharp eye in -his head, keeps his eye on the guard. “So I slowed down and slowed down, and got a couple minutes to sniff the air and stretch my old back. Then, to get a rest 1 made up an errand for more mortar —you lads know how it is! So I climbed down from my wall and scuffed along toward the mixers, keeping an eye on my guard all the time. And in a deep corner I met a man. ‘Oh-o!’ says I. ‘ You're a stranger, eh?’ He was dressed like us boys, but he wasn’t any fellow I ever saw. “He beckoned me closer. ‘ Here,’ he says, ‘see this? You know what it is?’ ““Do I know it!’ says I. ‘So does every kid in the Under City know it so well he’d recognize it anywhere. But you’d better look sharp, friend, and put it away. You know what the Tower People will do if they find it on you!’ “© Take it,’ says he, ‘ keep it, and show it to your comrades in the cantonment. Tell them from me it is a sign they will some day rise and seize their freedom.’ ‘““* And who are you?’ says I. ‘A Com- rade of the Torch,’ he answered me; ‘ you will hear more of us later. In a few days I will see you here again and bring you news of the great meeting the Folk are plan- ning, the meeting to arrange their arming” against the Tower People. Meantime tell your fellows what I say to you. Don't despair, for I promise you the day is coming. And, above all things,’ says he, very par- ticular, ‘make no attempt at revolt until you get the word. If you betray our secret you betray yourself as well.- Be careful!’ “He motioned me to go on about my business. I looked back in a moment and he was gone.” 409 That same night the mason told his story, while the whispering ran through all the city and penetrated even to the dismal pris- ons in the Drains, where men shivered and scratched at the vermin and hoped dully for death to end their suffering—that same night in which the Tower People went about their affairs, happy in their stolen ease— Kinst, the little goldsmith, and his woman, Anna, entertained guests in the secret ar- senal of the Comrades. This arsenal was hidden in one of the blind and shut-off tunnels. Its entrance was a secret guarded religiously by those few of the Folk who knew. Those who came followed a dark and dangerous path, that climbed sometimes roof-high over fal- len débris; that led them through deep and slimy pools and among black pockets where the squealing rats became an actual menace to any man that dared linger. | But finally this path opened on a wider hole, a part of the ancient subways in fair preservation. Here, in the past, two tun- nels had branched and in the crotch of their branching there stood a curious, three-cor- nered house of masonry. In its day it must have served in the complicated operation of the old system of trains; now it was the home of Kinst, and the office of the arsenal, A bright, red glow shone from its under- ground windows and within the place was warm, for Kinst’s furnace was burning red at the urging of his bellows. Close by a dim lamp crouched the woman Anna, stitching with untiring fingers, as women of all ages have sat and stitched, turning her eyes frequently to her man, sweating and red-faced as he watched his coals and the molten metals in his little crucible. And before the furnace, where it could bask in the glow, stretched a cat. It was a curious, half-wild animal that had come to live with Kinst and his woman, such a cat as one still sees rarely in forlorn places, a pariah of a once proud strain. It was a.dirty yellow in color. Its head was small and flat, with a wicked, crafty mask of face. Its body was powerful, and it was savage in disposition. There had just joined this domestic group two visitors, one the giant Shard, who stood Eonnichooks (C@