Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 146 No. 4 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

“The cruel woman recks empire less than the little finger aman! Truly says Clemens Alexan- _ drinus that—” _ Hiis voice ended, however, in a choked silence and a gulp. Here, perhaps, Mistress Betty perceived that in him was a greater _ tenderness than appeared, and guessed that his desertion of Spence might have other reason than cowardice or logic, for after this she rode on in silen They rode into Udjge in the morning with a great and haughty shouting on the part of the Spahis, and demands to see the amel immediately. Udjde, amid its wide orchards and olive groves, the most fertile oasis in all the Nagad steppe, opened itself to them by way of the Bab el Khemis. Amid a continually growing concourse of horsemen, curious townfolk, and men of the famed Barbary tribes, they rode to the kas- in the south quarter of the town. minutes later a hundred men of the _ ancient Lamta tribe were spurring madly eastward along the caravan road to the Cisterns. Dr. Shaw found himself and Mistress Betty given commodious quarters in the citadel and hospitably entertained by the amel, or governor—an old, hoary Moor who had managed to live long by dint of guile and not too high ambitions. | During most of the day the worthy doc- a Toward evening he was sum- moned to dine with the governor, with word ne een expected at any ss Betty, bemg a woman, was jain in her own apartment with into he country hs sar mould iy Hae above that of his cousin Abdallah. ‘“ All men turn to the new mesicat ia said sagely, stroking his white beard with his left hand, while his right plunged into the food. ‘‘ E] Magrib is ripe for revolt— but Abdallah is strong, and stronger yet is Ripperda, in whose hands is the power.” “Tf Mulai Ali comes will you declare for him?” asked Shaw. ‘“‘-VYes, and my warriors will ride to Fez with him. Know you who that renegade was—him with the red beard, whom you called Barbarroja?” Shaw shook his head. The old governor chuckled as at a good jest. “He serves the Sherif Abdallah and car- ries with him the royal signet. And the other of whom you told me this morning, the man in the black burnoose, Gholam Mahmoud, is the agent of Pasha Ripperda. He, he! No wonder those twain laid in ambush for Mulai Ali!” Before Shaw could reply to this disclosure —indeed, for 2 moment he sat agape at - hearing the truth about Barbarroja—a slave hurriedly entered and knelt. In his hands was a pigeon, which he presented to his master. Knowing that the force sent to the Cisterns had taken carrier pigeons, the quicker to inform the governor of what took place there, Shaw leaned forward anxiously as a tiny roll was taken from beneath the bird’s wing. The old Moor opened it, read a scrawl of Arabic, and turned pale. “ God, God, and God the Compassionate, the Merciful!” he ejaculated. “This is from a friend in Adjerud. It warns me that Pasha Ripperda is on his way here with his bodyguard of renegades. He should arrive to-morrow.” Shaw gave a start. “ Ripperda—with his bodyguard! ” age The old Moor shook his head. He was, extremely agitated; the very fact of Rip- comicbooks.c: No