Avon Murder Mystery Monthly No. 41 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

A. MERRITT 31 raised and patterned circle in the dust-covered floor. Not more than a foot in width, it shone wanly with a pale, metallic bluish luster, ‘as though, I thought, it had been recently polished. Compared with the wall’s tremendous winged figures this floor design was trivial, ludi- crously insignificant. What could there be about, it to stamp that dread upon Ruth’s face? | | I leaped the crevice; Dick joined me. Now I could see that the ring was not continuous. Its broken circle was miade of sharply edged cubes about an inch in height, separated from each other with mathematical exactness by another inch of space. I counted them—there were nineteen. Almost touching them with their bases were an equal number of pyramids, of tetrahedrons, as sharply angled and of similar length. They lay on their sides with tips pointing starlike to six spheres clustered like a conventiqnalized five petaled primrose in the exact center. Five of these spheres—the petals—were, I roughly calculated, about an inch and a half in diameter, the ball they enclosed larger by almost an inch. So orderly was their arrangement, so much like a geometrical design nicely done by some clever child that I hesitated to disturb it. I bent, and stiffened, the first touch of dread upon me. For within the ring, close to the clustering globes, was a miniature replica of the giant track in the poppied valley! . | It stood out from the dust with the same hint of crushing force, the same die cut sharpness, the same metallic suggestion—and pointing to- ward the globes were the’ claw marks of the four spreading star points. I reached down and picked up one of the pyramids. It seemed to cling to the rock; it was with effort that I wrenched it away. It gave to the touch a slight sensation of warmth—how can I describe it?—a warmth that was living. | | I weighed it in my hand. It was oddly heavy, twice the weight, I should say, of platinum. I drew out a glass and examined it. Decidedly the pyramid was metallic, but of finest, almost silken texture—and I could not place it among any of the known metals. It certainly was none I have ever seen; yet it was as certainly metal. It was striated— slender filaments radiating from tiny, dully lustrous points within the polished surface. And suddenly I had the weird feeling that each of these points was an eye, peering up at me, scrutinizing me. There came a startled cry from Dick. “Look at the ring!” The ring was in motion! Faster the cubes moved; faster the circle revolved; the pyramids raised themselves, stood bolt upright on their square bases; the six rolling spheres touched them, joined the spinning, and with sleight-of- ECOMC OOO (GO)