NEXT MONTH The Biack Gargoyle By HUGH B. CAVE A tale of goose-flesh horror in the jungles of Borneo—a story of stark terror and the strange doom that overtook an evil white man. This is a story to make your blood run cold and send ripples of horripilation up and down your spine. Here you have the author of "The Brotherhood of Blood” and "Dead Man’s Belt” at his superb best. The tale is redolent of the weird mys¬ tery of the Malay jungles, and the ter¬ ror that strikes in the blackness of night. Mr. Cave has written a tale that you will not soon forget—a tale that grows in horror and fascination to the last word. It will be printed complete in the March issue of WEIRD TALES On sale March 1st To avoid missing your copy, clip and mail this coupon today for SPECIAL SUBSCRIPTION OFFER. WEIRD TALUS «40 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. Enclosed find $1.00 for which Bend me the next five issues of WEIRD TALES to begin with the March issue ($1.75 in Canada). Special offer void unless remittance is accompanied by coupon. Name —. — Address - - — - City State think, or appreciate their surrounding.” King started to pace up and down the little hut.
"I can not stand it any longer, Prince. I am no coward, but I am not going to wait here and starve to death or .die the way you say. An idea came to me a few days ago and here is where I make use of it. Did you notice those galvanized iron cans on the food platform? They come up full, and, if the boys get a chance, they go down empty. They are big things and have a tight cover. I am going down in one.”
"Yes?”
"And down there, in some way, I am going to get into the big house.”
Thrills and sensations a-plenty await you in the concluding chapters of this story in next month’s Weird Tales.
The Lantern
By Hung Long Tom
Before me
Lies a silk
And paper lantern.
The table is teakwood
With pearl inlaid,
The lantern shaped
Like a pagoda.
And as I gaze thereon
A little lady
Walks slowly
Down the steps
And bows before me.
There is no light
Within the lantern burning.
The light is from the eyes
Of my Pagoda Girl.
W.T.—8