The Washington times., 1911-11-04
THEsTIMES DAILY SERIAL STORY
The Scarlet Scarab
BY Albert Pon Tun % .s:, % IA n: ssss ''i s q: s
copyright III. Frank A. Munssy c.,

colored pillar that blazed and glittered
like vast inferno.
the road Beyond broke ths tenss enssanis Silence
with wild clamor Of shrieks and pray
ers. the light from the craters lip went
OUT, slowly, gradually. As though shut
from IRON our view by fiimy, ever-thick-
And, indeed. such q curtain actually
did fall between the crater and our
selves-a curtain Of ashes descending in
monstrosity. Compared to the sitting
ash shower of the earlier morning II
was as q cloudburst to a. London drizzle.
raSe tSan a
was upon us. pressing in and about us
with an almost tangible substance. And
| through II all that hot, stifiing torrent
ana ns GTr syes nc, ouths tes spn m
gruesome coating Of soft. clinging
/ fought for breath and shouted to
above the scr screaming f ismentstions Of
, the roadway fugutives. A hand caught
my arm in the darkness In . clasp
trembling. appealing. chiidiike, ana at
,s sna .ss.di:s TEE :sem'S y. wo sr1s
hideously thrust asunder in the real
world. seemed to stand together ~ ono
In this universe Of choking biackness
And Tor the second time that day it
was Billy GreEg who broke in on our
silent communion.
"Peter' ne yelled from somewhere in
1 answered and he stumbled against
me, catching my free arm in an ecstasy
| "Ain't it greatv he shouted. Jimmy!
| That fellow Matteucci's bird! He sure
gets on Il the job This has got coney
beat a city block"
get out OF this! I've read something Of
volcanoes, and II that vapor cloud
above us settles we're goners. It'n BE-
as It was at st. Pierre, In Martinique"
I had forgotten that Doris. deli
cate, high-strung girl. could hear me.
and that II was brutal to add to the
| terror OF the darkness by announcing
our danger. But her grasp on my arm
was as steady. as fearless as I knew
her eyes must at that moment be.
1t was no time for conventions.
| slipped my arm about her waist. grip
ping. Billy's shoulder With my other
hand.
Gomez" called again. I'VE mustn't
| geS separated. and we must find our
way to some place OF safety"
We staggered onward blindlly through
! the gloom, choking. strangling, gasping
| I'm the hurricane Of ashes.
The tumult of the peasants laments
ceased for a moment. and out OF the
| ensuing interval OF StlllHeSS rose a deep
| voice--evidently village priest's-in-
| toning a Latin prayer. Voice after voice
| took up the responses. sobbing. entreat-
ingly. ..
| I wonder IL ever before In the annals
OF tragedy a more heartfelt. wildly ap-
1 pealing petition clamored up for re-
| sponse to the throne of the Most High
| On we groped our way, seeking the
nearby road, guided by the prayers and
wailings of the refugees. But the sound
seemed. In that deceptive blackness. to
| come from all around us; from above.
from below, from every side; confusing,
| baffling. rywhere-nowhere!
We seemed to be in the very midst at
| one moment, to be miles away the next.
At last, as we continued our aimlees
progress. battling against the ash tenn.
pest. stumbling over Inequalities of
ground, Doris halted.
They have stopped praying" she
"Or else I finished. I've have passed
beyond earshot OF them"
''You mean" she asked, and there was
no terror in the calm. silvsry voice.
I"you mean we are lost?"
| ] could not answer. There was no
| need. for the fact was all too evident.
We had blundered blindly on until we
had lost all idea Of locality.
A Continuation of This Story VIII
BE Found In TOmOrrOw's
| Issue of The Tfmea.