In Your Wildest Imaginings You Will
Not Guess What Killed These Men
Until the Author Reveals It To You
The Purple Death
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NANAH, Payne's Indian servant, came racing across the ground, his eyes rolling, his dusky face a distorted mask of hideous fear. As he reached his master his limbs seemed to buckle and bend beneath him. Sprawling at Payne's feet he threw his arms about the white mana legs, and sobbed out a disjointed tale of horror.
"Again, Sahib," he wailed, "again has the fearsome Thing come in the night, and this sunrise, after Nanah had been to the stream to fetch water, Nanah found where it had entered the tent of the Sahib, and—oh, merciful Allah, the Thing has struck again!"
The Indian, growing incoherent, began rolling about on the ground, sobbing, not loudly, as one would imagine, but in heart-broken whimpers.
Payne's set, mask-like face became a shade grayer, the deep-set blue eyes a bit sterner, the inflexible mouth harder.
"So," he said, "another of us has an-
