Montpelier examiner. [volume] (Montpelier, Idaho) 1895-1937, 1920-06-11

softly. Even the proximity Of death
had NOS changed him Ia the slightest.
As Williams pondered and listened to
the regular tramp Of the Mexican on
guard I'm the corridor. something OF
the utter fatallsm Of life-or death
came over him.
Why cry out or struggle against the
inevitahle2 Sooner or later he must
certainly pass from out the ferment OF
humanity, to lie forgotten in some
quiet corner. II might as wen he now
as any other time, except for one thing
III Tigre.
For an instant q flame OF bitter
hatred blaxed up as he thought Of the
crafty Hardinge. Had II not been for
that subtle. human scorpion he would
not be lying In this horrld hole. walt
ing the summons which would termi-
nate his ambitious life.
But the bitterness died away.
Hardinge was only another puppet
Of fate--a stuffed doll--like himself,
a mere marionette In the drama OF ex-
istence, for fate bears rule over all.
Presently he. too. would be thrust back
into the cosmic trunk by the Great
Property Man Of the whole fantastic
show. and death. the wardrobe mis-
tress, would receive the battered au-
tomaton. the same as she would claim
him at sunrise.
The voice OF the chanting Hindu
grew fainter.
The drowsy American felt that he
was falling into the abyss OF all things
the place from which he had sprung.
Around him mysterious creatures.
with calm. untRoubled countenanees,
like Jitendra's face. Ewirled on sound
less wings.
The world OF strife and struggle. OF
bitter hate and burning discord, Of
which he had been part was blotted
out and. instead, there was only a
superlatIve sense OF contentment. .
divine peace. sweet oblivion.
"SahIb Buck SahIb Buckr'
Williams struggled In dazed fashion
to his knees.
Between his dream and the dark.
ness he was so confused that he did
not realize where he was--or why.
Something cold, metallic, slender, was
forcing itself into his hands
There is little time. sahlb," Kissed
the voice. "See--the door Is open and
the gods granted thy request. Make
haste, / pray thee. and depart. Be
ware Of the other who sits asleep Just
wIthsp the gate Of this place"
"W-w-who-what the devil are you
talking abOut2 On. remember now
it's you, JItendra. isn't itf'
Eyes. sahib. but delay not The
night il yet young-by dawn thou must
be far from here"
UnbelIevingly the mine owner stag
gered to his feet. He tried to looh
around the obscure interior Of the cell
Then he saw that the Iron-bound oakeE
door leading Into the corridor wal
open, as q draft OF air came through.
Near 1t two flaming points Of light
swaying rhythmically In the corner
blazed back at him. Buck stumbled to
1
ward them. CROPPING bilndly.
Jitendra's hand was on his arm
the Hindn's slender fingers bit dow
on his biceps like steel tonga.
sSahIb, beware the vengeance o
Vishnul Not that wayr
He felt himself drawn forclbly aGid
and thrust into the corridor, II
turned to glance At his friend. Tw
other crimson. CARING points of ligh
biazed back into his startled eyes. bu
these seemed suspended Just above tn
white turban which the Oriental wore
Like those the mine owner had seen 1
: the cell corner, they might have bee
the angry orbs OF the gods ut whol
he had scofTed.
: Buck trembled.
= A cold sweat streamed out On hi
forehead. He at last realized that h
was In the passage leading 10 the gai
Of the carcel, and In his hands was
= rifIe-the thing he had jestingly con
manded the patie1t, little brown ma
10 secure for him through the exercli
of his occult powers.
Hurry. SahIb Buck whispers
u Jitendra; ''tarry not for me, for Yishn
and silva have me in their holy kee
Ing. Go thou-and quicklyi"
The cool. satiny rifle barrel sent
thrill OF madly intoxicating ecHtai
rIOting through the Americans bral
y Like the tiger, from whom he had be-
named. ne padded steaifhily along 4
short passage leading 70 the gate
the prison, filed with an angry We
!; geance.
= The sleeping sentinel was l0llIng
7 his chair. His weapon thudded dov