Avon Murder Mystery Monthly No. 41 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

A. MERRITT 55 Yes, that was it—plated. Plated with some metallic substance that was itself a reservoir of luminosity and from which, it came to me, pulsed the force that lighted the winking ions. But who could have done such a thing? For what purpose? How? And the meticulousness, the perfection of these smoothed cliffs struck _ over my nerves as no rasp could, stirring a vague resentment, an ir- ritated desire for human inharmonies, human disorder. Absorbed im my examination I had forgotten those who must: share _ with me my doubts and dangers. I felt'a grip on my arm. _ “If we get close enough and I can get my feet loose from this damned thing [’ll jump,” Drake said. | “What?” I gasped, blankly, startled out of my preoccupation. “Jump where?” | | I followed his pointing finger. We were rapidly closing upon the other cube; it was now a scant twenty paces ahead; it seemed to be stopping. Ventnor was leaning forward, quivering with eagerness. “Ruth!” he called. “Ruth—are you all right?” | Slowly she turned to us—my heart gave a great leap, then seemed to stop. For her sweet face was touched with that same unearthly tran- quillity which was Norhala’s; in her brown eyes was a shadow of that passionless spirit brooding in Norhala’s own; her voice as she answered held within it more than echo of Norhala’s faint, far-off golden chim- “Yes,” she sighed; “yes, Martin—have no fear for me—” And turned from us, gazing forward once more with the woman and as silent as she. I glanced covertly at Ventnor, at Drake—had I imagined, or had they ‘too seen? Then I knew they had seen, for Ventnor’s face was white to the lips, and Drake’s jaw was set, his teeth clenched, his eyes blazing with anger. | a | “What’s she doing to Ruth—you saw her, face,” he gritted, half in- articulately. “Ruth!” There was anguish in Ventnor’s cry. _ She did not turn again. It was as though she had not heard him, The cubes were now not five yards apart. Drake gathered himself; strained to loosen his feet from the shining surface, making ready. to leap when they should draw close enough. His great chest swelled — with his effort, the muscles of his neck knotted, sweat streamed down his face. | | ; “No use,” he gasped, “no use, Goodwin. It’s like trying to lift your- self by your boot-straps—like a fly stuck in molasses.” “Ruth,” cried Ventnor once more. | As though it had been a signal the block darted forward, resuming ECOMC OOO (GO)