was shortly to be enacted. He took her hand and
raised it to his cracked and swollen lips. For a long time he lay
caressing the emaciated, clawlike thing that had once been the
beautiful, shapely white hand of the young Baltimore belle.
It was quite dark before he knew it, but he was recalled to himself by
a voice out of the night. It was the Russian calling him to his doom.
"I am coming, Monsieur Thuran," he hastened to reply.
Thrice he attempted to turn himself upon his hands and knees, that he
might crawl back to his death, but in the few hours that he had lain
there he had become too weak to return to Thuran's side.
"You will have to come to me, monsieur," he called weakly. "I have not
sufficient strength to gain my hands and knees."
"SAPRISTI!" muttered Monsieur Thuran. "You are attempting to cheat me
out of my winnings."
Clayton heard the man shuffling about in the bottom of the boat.
Finally there was a despairing groan. "I cannot crawl," he heard the
Russian wail. "It is too late. You have tricked me, you dirty English
"I have not tricked you, monsieur," replied Clayton. "I have done my
best to rise, but I shall try again, and if you will try possibly each
of us can crawl halfway, and then you shall have your 'winnings.'"
Again Clayton exerted his remaining strength to the utmost, and he
heard Thuran apparently doing the same. Nearly an hour later the
Englishman succeeded in raising himself to his hands and knees, but at
the first forward movement he pitched upon his face.
A moment later he heard an exclamation of relief from Monsieur Thuran.
"I am coming," whispered the Russian.
Again Clayton essayed to stagger on to meet his fate, but once more he
pitched headlong to the boat's bottom, nor, try as he would, could he
again rise. His last effort caused him to roll over on his back, and
there he lay looking up at the stars, while behind him, coming ever
nearer and nearer, he could hear the laborious shuffling, and the
stertorous breathing of the Russian.
It seemed that he must have lain thus an hour waiting for the thing to
crawl out of the dark and end his misery. It was quite close now, but
there were longer and longer pauses between its efforts to advance, and
each forward movement seemed to the waiting Englishman to be almost
Finally he knew that Thuran was quite
Upon their heads grows an enormous shock of bristly hair.Page 30
The fellow was a marvellous swordsman and evidently in practice, while I had not.Page 33
His body, borne by the impetus of his headlong rush, plunged upon me.Page 39
The former it was who eventually broke the silence.Page 41
"Now don his harness, Prince," she said, "and you may pass where you will in the realms of the therns, for Sator Throg was a Holy Thern of the Tenth Cycle, and mighty among his kind.Page 58
Who are you?" "I am John Carter, Prince of the House of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium," I replied.Page 60
" I caught a fleeting grin passing across the features.Page 64
The girl's beauty elicited many brutal comments and vulgar jests.Page 76
The combined languages of Earth men hold no words to convey to the mind the gorgeous beauties of the scene.Page 79
For several minutes all was silent as the tomb.Page 85
It is sacrilege even to dream of breaking her commands.Page 86
"Kaor," I cried, after the red Martian manner of greeting.Page 105
in not having sunk the submarine to make good the lie that I must tell.Page 126
On and on I went, but I could not escape my sinister pursuer.Page 127
And again I charged, only to see the eyes retreat before me and hear the muffled rush of the three at my back.Page 146
Zat Arrras and his officers were furious, but they were.Page 158
To them chains were fastened, and at the ends of many of the chains were human skeletons.Page 183
I was saved.Page 193
I have never asked, nor has any other who was there that day intruded on my sorrow or recalled to my mind the occurrences which they know could but at best reopen the terrible wound within my heart.