The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1911-09-21

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| with meanar houses Of sun-dried brick
and rubbls, roofess all and disinte-
grating In the slow. terrible process
Of the years.
As Amber moved forward small.
alert ghosts rose from the under
growth and scurried silently thence:
circumstance which made him very
unhappy.
The way was dinicult and Amber
tired, After q while, having seen
nothing but the jackAls, an owl or
two, several thousand bats and q
crawling thing which had lurched
along in the shadow Of q wall some
distance away, giving an admirable
imitation of a badly wounded man
pulling himself over the ground. and
making strange cultural noises--Am-
Der concluded to wait for the guide
Naraini had promised him. He turned
aside and seated himself upon the
edge OF broken sandstone tomb. The
silence was appalling and for relief
he took refuge In cheap irreverence.
Home" he observed, aloud, never
was like this"
A heart.rending sigh from the tomb
behind him was followed by a rattle
of dislodged rubbish. Amber found
himself Unexpectedly in the middle Of
the street, and. without stopping to de-
bate the method of his getting there
with such unprecedented rapidity.
looked back hopefully to the tomb. At
the same moment a black-shrouded
figure swept out Of 1t and moved few
PAGES down the street, then paused
and beckoned him with a gaunt arm.
IT WISH said Amber, earnestly, n
had that gun"
The figure was apparently that OF
native swathed in black from his head
to his heels and seemed the more
strikingly peculiar In view OF the fact
| that, as far as Amber could deter
mine, he had neither eyes nor features
although his head was without any
sort of covering. He gulped over the
proposition for an instant, then
stepped forward.
Evidently my appointed cicerone,"
he considered. "Unquestionably this
ghost dance is excellently stage-man-
aged Though, of course. had
to pick out that particular tomb"
He followed in the wake Of the fig-
ure, which sped on with singular
motion. something between walk
and a glide, conscious that his equar
ninlty had been restored rather than
shaken by the incident.
He held on in pursuit Of the black
shadow, passing forraken temples and
lordly pleasure houses, all marble
tracery and fretwork. standing apart
in what had once been noble gardens,
sunken tanks all weed-grown and
| rank with slime, humber dooryards
and cots on whose hearthstones the
fires for centuries had been cold-his
destination evidently the temple Of
the unspeakable Eye.
AS they drew nearer the leading
shadow forsook the shade Of the walls
which he seemed to favor, sweeping
hastily across plaza white with
moonglare and without pause on into
the black, gaping hole beyond the
marble arch.
Here for the first thee Amber hung
back, stopping score Of feet from
the door, his nerves a-jangle. He did
not falter In his purpose he was go
ing to enter the inky portal, but
|. would he ever leave It? And
the world was sweet to him.
He took Arm hold OF his reason and
went on across the dark threshold,
took three uncertain strides into the
| limitless unknown, and pulled up
short, hearing nothing. unable to see
a yard before him. Then with ter
rifle crash like a thunder-clap the
great doors swung to behind him. He
whirled about with stifled cry, con-
scious OF mad desire to find the
doors again, took a step or two to-
ward them, paused to wonder II he
were moving in the right direction,
moved little to the left, half turned
and was lost. Reverberating, the
echoes of the crash rolled far away
| until they were no more than as a
whisper adrift in the silence, until
Digging his nails into his palms, he
waited; and In the suspense Of dread
began to count the seconds.
| One minute two .
three /. four :.
He shifted his weight from one foot
| TO the other. :.
He passed a hand across his face
and brought It away, wet with per-
spiration.
In some remote spot bell began to
toll; at first slowly-clang! .
clang. clarg!-then more
quickly, until the roar Of its sonorous,
gong-like tones seemed to NIL all the
world and to set 1t a-tremble. Then,
insensibly. the tempo became more Sc
dste, the first clamor Of 1t moderated,
and Amber abruptly was alive to the
fact that the bell was speaking-that
its voice, deep, clear, sound, metallic,
was rolling forth again and again q
question couched in the purest Sans
krit:
who is there? -. Who Is
there? Who Is there7 !"
The hair lifted on his scalp and he
swallowed hard in the effort TO an
swer; but the lie stuck in his throat:
he was not Rutton and and
it is very hard to lie effectively when
you stand in stark darkness with a
mouth dry as dust and your hair stir
ring at the roots because Of the In