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Richmond planet. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1883-1938, December 20, 1930, ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION, Image 10

Image and text provided by Library of Virginia; Richmond, VA

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84025841/1930-12-20/ed-1/seq-10/

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(Continued from page 3)
a heap of battered material whichi
must have once been part of a door,
and he knew instinctively, rather
than remembered, that beyond lry
a long, musty hall. On, on. As his
feet left the last sign of the wreck
ed door a gust of cold air poured
into his face and he felt suddenly
strengthened. Soon, quite soon. Cap
tain Sto was up and leaning against
the wall
And then to darkness and silence
was added something that made him
reooil in his tracks. From some
where nearby came a thick voice. |
His face hardened. He knew that'
voice, yet it counded somehow dif-'
ferent — soft, passionate, so sooth
ing. It said: “Ioane.”
“Ioane,” it burnt out again sud
denly, “you do be open the beautiful
eyes! Ya! You do! Say to Cap
tain Pignoff, yes.”
From out of the darkness came a
woman’s scream. Captain Sto crouch
ed a moment against the wall and
then threw himself against the in
visible door with the ruthlessness of
a demon. His body crashed again
into something that gave way im
mediately and the nex. instant he
went staggering into another tiny
room, a helium torch flickering
against its wall, the green-clad,
pouchy little figure of the Elsian
kneeling over the beautiful Ioane, as
if he had just pressed his lips to
Sto rushed lum instantly, ine wo
man went back to the floor and the
Elsian went grunting backwards
aci-jss the room. The wall stopped
him. The Elsian war cry suddenly
burst from his lips. Sto had reach
ed suddenly down and grasped Ioane
up in his arms.
“She does go out of here now!” he
spat, and started for the door, but
the now enraged Elsian flung him
self across the room and dealt out
a terrific blow on his rival’s face,
stunning him.
“Na! She do stay!” The Martian
in green sprang to the door, whirling
his fists, while Sto staggered out
there ift the middle of the floor. “She
do stay! Ya! Go you — or me —
we do see! Captain Pignoff be rath
er die! He be love her!”
What happened then must have
gone down in Martian romantic his
tory! The great Spite War between
the Elsian and Pragian kingdoms was
literally fought all over again.
Ioane, trapped in a cornel*, watch
ed them. Her reaction bore out the
reason for the nicknames she had
earned as food girl in the fine feast
►ing places of Kobo, in tne western
part of the recently conquered Elsian
Kingdom, where Captain Pignoff had
many a time ordered “veak" and
“fingo" when he neither thirsted nor
hungered, where Captain fcto’s ro
mantic advances had been smother
ed with a cutting, almost scornful
laugh. Neither soften nor crease the
disdaining curl from her lips, did
she now, which wasn’t strange, for
all her life the girl had lived in fear
of men.
“Be fools!" she suddenly cried, as
the two black Martian officers whip
ped into each other again and again;
‘Be focls! What be it you battle
The battle went on. No answer
came from them. Anyway, Ioane
knew the answer, and so she answer
ed her woman’s soul, “You be love
Ioane! Na! All men do say it!
Men say it to my mother — and
where be she now? Deserted! You
be fools! Ioane love . . . love no
And yet, if you had been there you
would have seen the beautiful dark
woman’s lips tremble, seen the scorn
gradually vanish from her eyps, seen
the great change which came over
her when the two compact bundles
of Martian flesh and bones collided
again now with an impact which
gave off a dull thud.
It had been a battle of brains and
brawn. Even now they were battling
as if they were two of those deadly
little monsters that are said to dwell
in that vast snow-bound area be
tween the two great black Martian
kingdoms! — gothas. They charged
and countercharged. They ripped
and sputtered. They smashed and
thev shattered
Their faces and fists smeared wun
blood, their uniforms ripped to
shreds, the men, both reeling with
exhaustion, made their last stand.
Both shrieked the war cry of their
kind. Both charged. Two pairs of
black fists smashed into black flesh.
Two fierce grunts were born; two
Martian curses filled the room and
two tattered bodies went crumbling
down to the stone floor.
The battle was over — the battle
in which neither brain nor brawn
had triumphed!
Ioane saw them go down. She
saw them go down. She saw the one
in green, quiver and grow suddenly
very still. She saw the one in red,
writhe and writhe. Why be he not
die? Wild-eyed, Ioane scrambled
weakly up against the wall. What
to do, what to do? What be it Ioane
the Man-hater should do?
"Ioane!’* j
Charming Chorine
I vmw.:aw.w. »■*■<■:**•■ •*-■■- «
DOROTHY KENNEDY, one or the main attractions in Lew Leslie’s “Black
birds," now running on Broadway.
Continued from page 3
now half sitting up in tense listen-1*
ing attitudes, turned bloodless faces
to the exhausted man above them.
“There is no hope, Jack?” Ramon
Montez, his fine dark eyes glazed with
terror, his tortured body still quiv
ering with the pain of the horrible
searing irons of the torture rite of
his savage subjects, and exhausted
by the superhuman efforts that had
carried him thus far toward escape,
dropped hopelessly back on the rugs,
as he uttered the words.
“What is it? What do those
sounds mean?” John Northington’s
face grew grim with purpose and de
termination. He waiterl for the
“They have found our trail. A
Already she had flown to the door.
She stood there with the fingers of
her right hand spread fan-like upon
her breast; gasping.
Now, like an earthly bird which
hesitates to accept freedom she drew
further back into the room, her lips
trembling. Something penetrated
into her woman's heart, something
new, something compelling, some
thing sweet, exhilarating, soothing
“It be I, Captain Sto.”
“I be love you, Ioane!”
Silence, a long, sweet silence, and
then, “And . . . And I. . .be love
you, Captain Sto. I say you be fool.
But . . . but it Co be Ioane who
be fool -”
As Captain Sto ended the story of
Ioane, I was suddenly presented with
an example of Martian enthusiasm.
He jumped up to his feet and, with
a single stroke of his hand, the row
of little stone images, each repre
senting a woman in his life, went
crashing to the floor!
“Ioane!” he cried. “Ioane do bless
this house soon!”
If you are always seeking unusual
dishes that will both surprise and de
light your guests, the two recipes be
low should prove valuable additions
to your file.
4 tablespoons quick-cooking tapioca
*4 teaspoon salt
1-3 cup seedless raisins
2 cups decaffeinated coffee infusion
% cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup cream, whipped
Add tapioca, salt, and raisins to
coffee, and cook in double boiler 15
minutes, or until tapioca is clear,
stirring frequently. Add sugar. Chill.
Add vanilla; fold in cream. Serve in
sherbet glasses. Serves 6.
1 cup milk
1 tablespoon ground decaffeinated
4VZ tablespoons quick-cooking tapioca
Dash of salt
1-3 cup sugar
3 egg whites, stiffly beaten
3 egg yolks, beaten until thick and
Scald milk w’ith coffee and strain
immediately. Add tapioca and salt,
and cook 15 minutes, or until tapioca
is clear, stirring frequently. Add
sugar. Cool. Add egg yolks and fold
in egg whites. Bake in greased bak
ing dish, placed in pan of hot water,
in moderate oven (325 d. F.) CO min
utes. Serve with custard sauce.
Custard Sauce for Coffee Souffle
1-3 cup sugar
1 Ys cups milk
3 egg yolks, slightly beaten
% teaspoon salt
Y\ teaspoon vanilla
Y. cup cream, whipped (if desired)
Combine milk, egg yolks, sugar,
and salt, and cook in double boiler
until mixture coats spoon, stirring
constantly. Cool. Add vanilla. Chill.
Fold in cream just before serving.
Serves 6.
A recent report states that a
wealthy Scotchman brought suit
against one of the national ball clubs
because he broke an arm w’hile w'atch
ing a double header. He fell from
a tree.
►single searcher is watching us. The
call was his tribal ‘view halloo.’
The answer will bring a bunching
of the hunt that all may be in ‘at
the death.’ ” He shuddered and the
girl shuddered with him.
She drew closer to her lover and
with a despairing gesture threw her
arms around him where he lay. He
placed his good arm across hers in
mute tenderness.
“Iff ze death could come soon,
my Ramon,” she whispered, “it
would be bettaire.” She looked be
seechingly into the face of John
Northington as she uttered the
words. “You haf the death—ze so
kind death in ze gon, Senor. Eet iss
bettaire for all. Ze othaire—” She
hesitated and a violent trembling
swept over her.
Ramon turned his gaze up to his
friend’s face. There was a dumb
acquiescence in his looks and the
words that followed were hollow
with despair.
“She is right, Jack. There is
nothing that can surpass the hellish
torture to which they will put us,
and you will share it with us. I am
a priest of that Flower of Hell that
they have made of the Black Lily
of our forests, because of its queer
phenomenon at blooming. Think of;
it!” he laughed bitterly.
Because a nower uuui> tuiuitu
and at its blooming explodes its
seed in a fine mist of spraying
moisture, a nation of people worship
it and prostitute it to nameless ter
rible orgies and rites. And even the
knowledge of its ruler and high |
priest cannot convince them of the i
ignorant superstition that makes of
innocent people ravening fiends. My
“But,” the girl had placed one
hand over the man’s mouth, “my
Ramon forget ze evil power. Zere
iss a Spirit.” There was abject fear
and belief in her trembling, awed
tones, “Ze Flower He iss bring Ze
Death Spray to unbelievers an’ in
marriaee He take ze Bride by Ze
Breath off Hiss Lof, to Himself.”
She shuddered.
“Eet iss so, Senor.” She looked at
John Northington. There was no
doubt of her utter faith in the
things she uttered.
“Well, maybe all you both are say
ing is so, and maybe not. But I m
not dead till I’m killed and I am
going to get out of this or die try
ing, and I am going to take you both
with me.” The big bronze man
gripped the paddle more firmly be
tween his hands and sent the
pirogue shooting ahead.
Along the left bank there was a
steady rustling that ran along
paralleling the course of the travel
ing boat. Northington, with his
hearing prelernaturally sharpened
by anxiety, heard it. Already at the
limit of Ills strength, his face paled
as he realized his inability to cope
with superior strength just now.
Just beyond lay a bend in the.
stream. A somewhat more thinly j
wooded cape projected into the j
stream almost directly in the
straight course of the pirogue. Asj
he neared the point the rustling
sound advanced and seemed to bear
outward towards the point of land..
John Northington slowed the ]
stroke of his paddle as he drew near
and peered cautiously into the deep
shadows of the green bordered point
of land. His gaze was rewarded. He
caught the flickering irregular move
ment of a bit of grey-green cloth
that under less careful scrutiny
might have passed for a waving
bough or fluttering leaf.
Boldly he turned his boat in-shore
and ran it against the projecting
The bit of grey green instantly
paused in the shadows. John North
ington gathering his little remaining
strength together climbed out of
the long craft. He stepped onto the
“There’s no good in trying to get
away,” Ramon’s voice followed him.
“The scout trailer is watching us
from somewhere even now. Of
course he could pick us all off with
a poisoned arrow. But that is not
my people’s way when a Chosen
Bride of the Sacred Flower and its
High Priest have recanted their
faith and broken the Oath. DEATH
in its most horrible form alone can
>atone for that crime.” He laughed
bitterly and fatalistically.
But Northington did not answer.
He turned as if to rest a minute
from the labor of pulling the pirogue
up onto the sloping bank. As he
leant forward he fumbled for a
minute in the bottom of the boat.
When he straightened he held the
strung bow that he had taken from
the dead guard in his hand.
Before a man could run two steps
he had raised the bow and a small
red winged shaft sped through the
air into the shadows. It struck
with a dull muffled thud at the same
instant that Northington leaped for
ward to the place where the snjpll
square of grey-green cloth began a
violent fluttering.
Before he cleared the space, a long
ululating cry split the air and went
echoing and re-echoing out into the
Ramon and Dolores, overcoming
wounds and exhaustion, sprang up
and joined in the struggle of John
Northington as he dragged the
struggling, fighting, grey robed form
of a panting man toward the boat.
Before the cry could ring out
again, Ramon’s right hand gripped
the man by the throat, and Daiores
lent her aid in dragging him into,
the boat. As he was pulled in, hijd
struggles suddenly ceased. He stijfl
fened and grew rigid, then wi^B
two or three convulsive tremors^
lay quite still.
Northington leaped into the boat
and hastily pushed it again into ?he
stream. The thud-thum-thum of
far drums was sounding from all
around them through the trees as
he gripped the paddle and with des
perate strength sent the laden craft
down again to the center of the
river. The current, a little swifter
here, caught it and helped it for
“If we can only make the rapids.1*
It was Ramon who spoke.
As he finished, John Northington,
weak from loss of sleep, and food,
and hunger, suddenly slumped for
ward and slid into the bottom of the
boat. The paddle slipped from his
hand and hit smartly against the
side as it splashed into the water.
--o — —
Its leading citizen. He leads every
thing from the Sunday School picnic
to the annual banquet of the Eastern
Its honest man. His wore, is as
good as his bond. Two generations
of little boys have had him pointed
out as a model for their future years.
Its public scold. There is more bite
to her tongue than there was to th<*
dog that went mad on Main Street
several years ago. Arouse her ire and
you may as well go on your vaca
tion. ^
Its man or woman who can prove
positively that no other town in the
state is as bad morally.
Its bad boy and its wicked girl;
its horrible ex.mple; its tightwad;
its know-it-all; its atheist, and its
town arguer.
Probably we need these men and
women to make our town a natural
The kind little wife had just In
formed her husband that she had
mended a new hole in his trousers’
"Am I not thoughtful, dear?” she
“You are, darling,” he replied.
All the way down town he won
dered how she had discovered the
It’s dangerous to let the simpl
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together with effective laxative^
which bring overnight relief ir6m
head colds, and colds of a more
serious nature that make you feel
dizzy, weak and “achy.” Take
Lax-ana before you go to bed and
wake up feeling fine. Costs less
?er dose; does more per dose.
our money back if it doesn’t help
you. Now sold at all drug stores.

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