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Richmond planet. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1883-1938, December 20, 1930, ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION, Image 9

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j-AMAZING STORIES—.
The Author has below started a series of extraordinary hypothetical
stories which draw heavily upon the imagination but which pique the
curiosity of the thinking reader, by projecting the reader several years
into the future, when doubtless air travel will have practically supplanted
land travel, when science will have achieved the “impossible in effecting
frequent and comparatively easy communication with the planet Mars,
ind when life will have become completely controlled by the limitless
possibilities of scientific invention. . ..
Not only are these stories ingenious but stimulate breath-taking
thrills, bv depicting the possibilities of life on the earth many years after
the present generation has become extinct. The author has indeed a vivid
*and picturesque Imagination and you must agree that he writes with
astonishing reality.
LOVE ON MARS
By JOHN P. MOORE
PART TWO
BEGIN READING HERE: *
3. Q. BRENT, well-known 21st cen
tury writer, is giving you a series of
his impresions of the two vast black
kingdoms which people the planet of
Mars, which were discovered by H. S.
Turner's epoch-making expedition, of
which Brent was a member, and which
left the earth aboard the eminent scien
tist's amazing “rocket ship" on the eve
ning of September 8, A. D. 2030.
Upon completing the hazardous trip
through vast ethereal spaces, a series of
interesting Incidents transpire. First,
the expedition falls Into the hands of
a band of hostile little black, man-like
creatures and they are taken forcibly
to the Kingdom of Els, which they find
built five hundred feet below the frigid
surface of the strange planet, the nar
row, crowded thoroughfares being roofed
over with a glass-like material to seal
out the cold.
It is Anally decided to take these
"four Pragian spys,” as the expedition
wastMaken for, to the palace of the
Great One. presumably the king, and
L Messrs Brent, Turner, Brown, and Hca
^ton are dragged out of their dark dun
^kcon only to find themselves surround
Wcd bv a great milling mob of enraged
L Elsians, who yell lustily for their blood.
This spirit grows, with the result that
the members of the expedition are final
ly taken from their protesting guards
b/ about thirty of the mob and cast up
and out of the kingdom, there to freeze
to death on the planet's barren surface.
However, this particular portion of the
mob turns out to be in reality, a squad
of Pragian spys, and the next thing they
know a great fish-shaped Pragian air
ship swoops down over the snow and
they are carried off to the Kingdom of
Pragus, where they are most enthus
iastically received, and where, among
other things, they learn why Martians
speak the language of earthly man.
A thousand years before, the black
scientists of Mars had invented a sort
of receiving station—a monstrous thing,
a thousand foot tower—which they had
gradually perfected until now, with the
aid of a sort of ear-phone, one could
Kear faint whisperings—words—whls
jSered words from earth!
y Leaving the more scientific revelations
to his scientific companions, Mr. Brent
here goes on to tell us about Captain
Pasog Igan Sto, wealthy young Pragian
bachelor, with whom he became quite
friendly, and who. on the occasion of
one of' Brent’s visits to his apartment,
told him the story of Ioane—beautifully
dark Ioane, Ioane the Illusive, Ioane
the Man-hater, the "infant” of an
Elsian mother and Pragian father.
Some years before, at the end of the
great Spite War between the two vast
kingdoms, Captain Sto is walking along
a dark thoroughfare In a deserted part
of the Elsian kingdom, when from above
a knife falls at his feet. Upon closer
inspection, it brings out the fact thut
it is of Elsian manufacture. But the
thing tied to Its carved handle—ah!—
it Is, unmistakably, a Pragian ring of
gold, the band of a weaker one, a wom
an.
Sto Jumps to the conclusion that this
Is a sign of distress, that a woman
of his beloved kingdom is in danger,
and hurries inside and up the spiral
steps of the dark structure, dart gun
drawn.
High above the thoroughfare level
the steps end in darknes and Sto hears
the passionate voice of a man threat
ening a woman with death if she does
not give in to his advances. He hears
the name of "Ioane” called and this
stirs bis memory, for he, too. has fal
len in love with the beautiful half
breed woman of the eating places.
At a crucial moment Sto batters his
wav into the room and finds the wom
an'of his heart confronted by an El
sian captain. There follows a series
of dramatic clashes. Finally, however,
when Ioane screams and rushes for the
door, the enraged Elsian reaches into
his pocket and then hurls something
to the floor. Immediately the room fills
with a sort of gas, and, quite soon, the
three of them are stretched out prone
on the stone floor—an Elsian captain,
a Pragian captain, and a beautiful cre
ation in untamed Martian womanhood,
with the hot blood of two great king
doms coursing through her veins!
NOW FINISH THE STORY.
She stood there with the fingers of her right hand spread
fan-like upon her breast, gasping.i j < _
THE CHAMBLR WAS in pitch
darkness. The helium torch that had
hung against the stone wall wasn’t
there. Nothing was there. No
erreen-clad figure of an Elsian cap
tain met Sto’s roving, aching eyes
as he gradually regained conscious
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ness; no prostrate form of the beau
tifully dark Ioane. Captain Sto
groaned.
He attempted to raise himself from
his sprawling position on the floor,
but; j Jils arms weakened and he
slumped back with a gasp; and for
a irjipute he lay there, a ghastly
feeling at the pit of his stomach, the
stagnant odors of foul chemicals
clinging to his nostrils. Ya! It was
as if it all had been a devilish dream!
Then, suddenly driven by a thirst
for action, Sto began to crawl. As
his body moved spasmodically
through the vast blackness it was
all coming back Ko him — about
Ioane; about the fiendish-looking
Elsian captain.
A great anger possessed him. He
didn’t feel the biting cold * the
stone floor on his hands, or on his
bruised knees. Instead, with a sud
den start, he became aware that he
was crawling along flush against a
stone wall, and he continued pain
fully onward, like a Pragian air
ship nosing its way through a black
cloud.
One, tv/o, three minutes passed.
His hands came into contact with
Continued on page 4
The BLACK LILYcora ball moten
, t • j Nationally Known
A Story of Romance and Daring, Laid Serial Writer
in the Intrigue of a Strange South American Cult
The “Inner Circle” Sentry Gives An Ominous Signal
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE ♦
John Northington, young adventurer and graduate from Howard Uni
versity, is wounded by a poison arrow while trying to help his friend and
college mate, Ramon Monte*, millionaire Indian of South America, save
his fiancee from the hands of his fanatical subjects and countrymen, the
PRIESTS OF THE BLACK LILY.
Dolores Ramirez, the fiancee, having been warned by the message of the
drums that she is to be the object of the attempt, and knowing that the
Guards of the LILY also know, attempts to reach and warn Ramon. She is
in time to suck the poison from Northington's wound. He kills the guards
and they make their way to the opposite side of the river where Ramons
camp is located.
Here thev hear the sounds of the torture dance and know Ramon is
being nut to the torture. They decide to make their escape after the sounds ■
toU Dolores that all is over with Ramon and that the ferocious tribesmen I
arc chasing the “evil one from the village.”
Thev find a nirocuc and after killing the sentinel and stripning him
they embark AtTnoodcd point, Northtlrton at the paddle, is started to j
a guttural cry and secs a pair of eyes peering from the underbrush into his |
own.
SECOND ' NSTALLMENT 4
John Northington’s hand
was stricken into frozen im
mobility for a single tense
minute. The next, a wild
eyed, half - naked figure
plunged out of the under
growth and dashed, stumb
ling and moaning inarticulate
cries, directly toward the
watercraft.
The last stumbling leap carried
him into the shallow water separat
ing the pirogue from the shore.
A great, ugly black head reared
out of the oozing mud as he passed.
Sharp saber teeth clicked, ominous
ly. A shred of flying grey-green
cloth was left waying like some sor
did flag of victory between the mon
strous jaws, as the head sprawled
again into the slime.
The stumbling, plunging figure
reached the edge of the water, flung
itself in and floundered, panting and
sobbing to the side of the pirogue.
With torn and bloodstained hands it
gripped the side of the sturdy boat.
The paddle in Northington’s hands
descended with vicious force. A
sudden lurch spoiled the aim. What
might have beer, a death blow struck
the half submerged man a smacking
lick that half turned his head back
and up. The lifted paddle paused
with a jerk in its descent for the
second blow.
The man who held it uttered an
inarticulate cry and dropped his
weapon onto the bottom of the boat.
With the same movement he stoop
ed and seized the slipping hands in
a firm hold.
A low moan tremDiea across me
man’s lips. He sagged into uncon
sciousness. With a mighty strain
ing heave John Northington drew
him into the boat. The water closed
with a sinister splash over the spot
where the big black corrugations of
a predatory crocodile’s body disap
peared under the sluggish surface.
The girl’s eyes fluttered open when
a dripping form was dropped be
side her own. She turned her head
with the quick jerk of reflex fear.
Her eyes blinked and dilated queer
ly, as she gazed on the still face.
Blood was oozing slowly from a cut
high up under the hair line. One
arm lay awkwardly limp and twisted
half across the chest.
The girl raised herself limply onto
her elbow and ,.ith a ragged corner
of her robe attempted to staunch the
oozing blood. Her Ups whisperingly
caressed a name. “Ramon,” she
said, and in the word was all the
garnered sweetness of the world of
human love.
Northington still panting from the
exertion of a moment before re
trieved the paddle. “Do what you
can for him, senorita,” he admonish
ed anxiously. “We’d better get
away from here. It's a safe bet
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• that tnose aevns are on ms trail anu i
he must be pretty easy to track in i
his condition.” He set his lips grim
ly and sunk the paddle into the dark
water. The movement sent the craft
out into the middle of the stream.
Overhead the sun beat down with
merciless white heat. The raucous,
unmusical cries of brilliantly tinted
tropical birds, the chatter of mon
keys and the dip-dip of the paddle
were the only noises that broke the
silence as the pirogue shot along
the bosom of the sluggishly flowing
river.
Once Northington had stopped
and filled a big calabash that was
rolling about in the bottom of the
craft, with water from the stream.
With this the girl bathed her own
and Ramon’s wounds with much la
bor and many pauses for strength.
Now they both lay in a half stupor
of pain and exhaustion on the bot
tom of the boat inadequately shel
tered by the crude awning that
Northington had erected.
Ever ana anon tne man at me ;
paddle would stoop and dash hand- |
fuls of sunwarmed water over his!
own face and arms. But this i
treatment only seemed to accentuate
the heat. His breath was coming in
panting gasps. Perspiration stream
ed into his eyes and half blinded him.
The rough cloth of the priest’s hood
clung in damp folds against his
cheeks and rubbed his dripping neck '
uncomfortably. His muscles ached
until it seemed that he could not
lift the heavy paddle for another
stroke. His eyes burned with the
terrible heat and from sleeplessness,
but he knew he must keep on.
In the thick tangle of forest and
impassable bush on either side of
his river path there lurked unknown
dangers from man and beast and
reptile- The wounded man and girl
in the pirogue were worse than use
less for help in case of emergency.
Suddenly a faint, long-drawn
ululating call seemed to spring from
nowhere and everywhere at once.
It swelled and died and swelled
again ever nearer and nearer until
the very tree-tops seemed to quiver
and respond to it. Then—it ceased
as suddely as it began.
Like an answering cry a strange
throbbing sound began. It beat
through the abrupt stillness like the
smothered thump-thump of a giant
heart irregularly spaced and
strangely agitated.
At the first sound the man and
girl froze into a tensely compelled
attention. When the irregular beat
ing permeated the atmosphere and
seemed to spread and throb from
every point of the compass that at
tention stiffened and appeared to
draw itself together like the concen
tration of a pointing dog. It was
as if the sounds carried some mes
sage of life or death to the listen?rs.
John Northington, looking down at
them, ceased for k moment from his
arduous task and leaned heavily on
the thick handle of the paddle in
questioning attention.
As the last sinister throb died
away in a long muffled roll, the two,
Continued on page 4
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