Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

THE MAN WHO MASTERED TIME. Ever since she had been trying to swim through the air, with arms and legs kicking, she had fought to sustain herself. She was almost at the surface when Georgie saw her struggling ineffectually like a swimmer exhausted. He darted to her and gathered her into his arms. His cylinder drew them both upward. “Dee,” he whispered. You're safe!” “ My little Dee! Loto had dropped close to the surface. The magnet was pulling him; but with his cylinder held against it, he could make headway. The magnet now had done most of its work; those in the air had either suc- cumbed, or escaped beyond range. To one side, Loto could see the attack on the other two barges. Fahn’s voice in his ear told him of the landing at Orleen;: The Scientist ordered them ali back. They were needed at Orleen; they must return. But the magnet barge was heading down the channel. It would be used at Orleen. It must be’ stopped—destroyed now. Loto disobeyed Fahn. He headed for the little barge. It was a plunge of no more than a few minutes. Soon Loto was well within the magnetism; he could not withdraw now. He tried to think clearly. Those others of the Anglese who had met this death, had lost control of themselves in the air. They had plunged forward, struggling, whirling so that they had not been able to use their weapons. Loto had no thunderbolts remaining. His only weapon was the flaming liquid gas which he could project some fifty feet. Just above the surface, head first, like an arrow he slid forward through the air. He did not fight against the magnet; he used his cylinder only to keep himself from turning sidewise. He was conscious of the dark outlines of the barge rushing at him. He fired his jet of flame; but though he did not know it then, he had fired too soon. The flames fell short. A downward thrust of his cylin- der power forced him upward. He barely missed the wire caging as his body shot over it—past it. The magnet’s scream was deafening. The 295 Noths on the barge had fired a small thun- derbolt between the wires, but had missed the swiftly passing mark. Loto’s momentum carried him a hundred feet or more beyond the barge. The mag, net stopped him, drew him swiftly back. He was turning over now. He had lost control of himself. The sea, the sky, the approach- ing barge—were mingled in whirling con- fusion. He knew he could never escape; he must strike the magnet with his flame, this time or never. A moment more and his body would be electrocuted against the cage. A tiny bolt cracked past him. He turned over again, righted himself momentarily, and fired. The electrical scream died into abrupt silence; the flames had caught the magnet, burned out its coils. Released suddenly, Loto’s body shot up- ward with the pull of his cylinder. The cage, with flames spreading under it, dropped away beneath him. He righted himself, and at a distance of about three hundred feet, hung poised. The flames spread over the barge; its few Noth figures plunged frantically into the water. Loto mounted upward to join his com- rades. Barely seventy-five of the original three hundred and twenty-eight, were left. Ten of them were girls. Loto found Azeela safe. Georgie still carried Dee in his arms. The flames from the burning barges died out; the silent moonlit channel was strewn with floating bodies. It seemed almost futile to search for their wounded; but they descended, and for a time moved about near the surface. Two, they found still alive— one burned, the other, a girl, mangled by a flying knife. Silently, with their burdens, they took their way back through the air to the cavern. It was a night of confusion. The Noths were clustered around Orleen, waiting for the dawn before they entered the city. They were still coming across the channel—swim- ming dogs, mounted by men. All night they came. The puny garrison of the Or- leen Cavern was powerless to stop them. It exhausted its bolts; it began sending out calls for help. Conn (”) DOOLK CO