The Argosy, March 1907 — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

Ms Ae a ew «4 — a | gested Mr. Gault. heaving ice. « Lets walle ahedd SF them,” ‘You won’t care to trudge a whole mile in Mr. Fitch’s com- pany. Shall we start on?” The others were but a few yards be- hind them as they turned—turned to confront some fifteen mounted men who had, unheard, ranged themselves across the ancient highway, between the six wanderers and the road that led to the rest of their party. The equestrians made no hostile sign. They simply sat their horses in stolid silence and gazed without expression on the five Americans and the dragoman. Wild-looking fellows they were, in their flaring red burnooses, sheepskin under- vests, and close turbans. From the belt of each peeped knife and horse-pistol. Long flint-lock guns with queer curved and inlaid stocks rest- ed across their saddle-bows. They rode hairy, lean ponies whose rough coats were strangers to the currycomb. The travelets turned involuntarily to Halil for an explanation of this sudden FOS BO een eee ee == — ees eae pee ats —, wane Pan ~—s Se te me oe “a ots ws — Sax hr 2 ta Nee 2 * BS sug- “ould not at once grasp some Eastern - situation. | ae There was no fear in the Americans’ gaze; only curiosity as to the nature of = this picturesque cavalcade. But one glance at the dragoman’s face set their nerves to thrilling ‘with vague uneasiness. Halil Sadik Ali was the picture of dumb horror. His brown face was ash- — color. The whites of his’ rolling eyes shone yellow. He shook from head to foot as with an ague. . “Well?” asked Fitch, breaking the — momentary silence. ‘“ You're a pretty picture, ain’t you, you pusillanimous nig- ger! Can’t you speak? What are these folks on horseback? ”’ feo Mr. Jonas Fitch’s hardly acquired ed- ucation had an unfortunate way of de-. serting him in moments of stress. But now even the fastidious Barry Clive did | not notice his breaks in English. ae For both Clive and Madge had seen, == over the trembling dragoman’s shoulder, cae a second line of dusky horsemen emerge into the farther end of the high- =a advent. It was their wont to look to way. The little party were’ completely - Be him in all cases where the Western mind hemmed in. % re “= (To be continued.) : ee. FLIMSY BY GARRET SMITH. A terrifying winter adventure with a rise in the thermometer as a starter. NE trip teo many on the rotten ice,” said Gibson. “I’m afraid He broke off with a sharp exclamation — and again threw the ice-boat into the wind and slowed down on the ragged edge of a strip of water that seemed to burst in front of them out of the thick fog. 3 The heart of the younger of the two men stopped beating as the craft came about, the windward runner poising for an instant over the very edge of the fissure. To keep moving meant sooner or later to plunge into open water. To. stop meant to break through the inch-thick In either case was death. The weather-beaten Gibson sat at the _off the Freepoint Light for twenty-five ISLAND. tiller with the main-sheet bound about — his right wrist, peering into the blank fog. <A dozen times quick connection ee > between the trained eyes and the ee plunge. = He had faced death in the Atlan —— as years. To toy once more with the — scythe-bearer was a part of the day’s — work. ‘To feel that this time the scythe any would conquer was a mere detail. It was Barrett’s first year at the life- — saving station. He had never met death face to face before. It unnerved him. He sat clutching the edge of the cock- = pit, and stared ahead with straining eyes. At each dash toward open water he had difficulty in keeping himself from Pa —Gcom G 200 s.com