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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"


Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw that the small group of
Incas was no longer small. Away to the rear the corridor was
filled with rushing black forms. But I saw plainly that we were
gaining on them; the distance that separated us was twice as
great as when we had first started to run.
"How about it?" I panted. "Can you hold out?"
"If it weren't for this knee," Harry returned between breaths and
through clenched teeth. "But--I'm with you." He was limping
painfully, and I slackened my pace a little, but he urged me
forward with an oath, and himself sprang to the front. His knee
must have been causing him the keenest agony; his face was white
as death.
Then I uttered a cry of joy as I saw a bend in the passage ahead.
We reached it, and wheeled to the right. There was solid wall on
either side; the series of doors was ended.
"We'll shake 'em off now," I panted.
Harry nodded.
A short distance ahead we came to another cross-passage, and
turned to the left. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that our
pursuers had not yet reached the first turn. Harry kept in the
lead, and was giving me all I could do to keep up with him.


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