Weird Tales/Volume 24/Issue 3
A MAGAZINE OF THE BIZARRE AND UNUSUAL
REGISTERED IN U.S. PATENT OFFICE
|Volume 24||CONTENTS FOR SEPTEMBER, 1934||Number 3|
|Cover Design||M. Brundage|
|Illustrating a scene in "The People of the Black Circle"|
|The People of the Black Circle||Robert E. Howard||274|
|A weird novel featuring Conan the Barbarian|
|The Jest of Warburg Tantavul||Seabury Quinn||296|
|A ghost story of vivid power and gripping human appeal—a story of Jules de Grandin|
|Naked Lady||Mindret Lord||317|
|A tale of voodoo and a millionaire's strange scheme for vengeance on his wife|
|The Sinister Painting||Greye La Spina||325|
|An eery story of a fiendish murder and a midget psychic investigator|
|The Return||Julia Boynton Green||334|
|Vine Terror||Howard Wandrei||335|
|A weird-scientific tale, about vegetable vampires that lusted for animal and human food|
|Sable Revery||Robert Nelson||351|
|The Trail of the Cloven Hoof (part 3)||Arlton Eadie||352|
|An astounding weird mystery novel by a British master of eery fiction|
|The Pale Man||Julius Long||373|
|A queer little tale, about the eccentric behavior of a strange guest in a country hotel|
|Weird Story Reprint:
The Coming of Abel Behenna
|A weird tale of the sea|
|A Cloak from Messer Lando||August Derleth||389|
|A short story about Cesare Borgia and the magic of a mediaeval sorcerer|
|An informal chat with the readers|
Published monthly by the Popular Fiction Publishing Company, 2457 E. Washington Street, Indianapolis, Ind. Entered as second-class matter March 20, 1923, at the post office at Indianapolis, Ind,, under the act of March 3, 1879. Single copies, 25 cents. Subscription, $3.00 a year in the United States, $4.00 a year in Canada. English office: Charles Lavell, 13, Serjeants' Inn. Fleet Street, E. C. 4, London. The publishers are not responsible for the loss of unsolicited manuscripts, although every care will be taken of such material while in their possession. The contents of this magazine are fully protected by copyright and must not be reproduced either wholly or in part Without permission from the publishers.
NOTE—All manuscripts and communications should be addressed to the publishers' Chicago office at 840 North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Ill.
FARNSWORTH WRIGHT, Editor.
Copyright, 1934, by the Popular Fiction Publishing Company,
COPYRIGHTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
WEIRD TALES ISSUED 1st OF EACH MONTH
Coming Next Month
AN OLD man, withered and disreputable-looking, in a robe that appeared no less antique and unsavory than himself, was standing near to the fire. He was not engaged in any visible culinary operations; and, in view of the torrid sun, it hardly seemed that he required the warmth given by the queer-colored blaze. Aside from this individual, Ralibar Vooz looked in vain for the participants of the muttered conversation he had just overheard. He thought there was an evanescent fluttering of dim, grotesque shadows around the obsidian block; but the shadows faded and vanished in an instant; and, since there were no objects or beings that could have cast them, Ralibar Vooz deemed that he had been victimized by another of those highly disagreeable optic illusions in which that part of the mountain seemed to abound.
The old man eyed the hunter with a fiery gaze and began to curse him in fluent but somewhat archaic diction as he descended into the hollow. At the same time, a lizard-tailed and sooty-feathered bird, which seemed to belong to some night-flying species of archaeopteryx, began to snap its toothed beak and flap its digited wings on the objectionably shapen stela that served it for a perch. This stela, standing on the lee side of the fire and very close to it, had not been perceived by Ralibar Vooz at first glance.
"May the ordure of demons bemire you from heel to crown!" cried the venomous ancient. "O lumbering, bawling idiot! you have ruined a most promising and important evocation. How you came here I can not imagine. I have surrounded this place with twelve circles of illusion, whose effect is multiplied by their myriad intersections; and the chance that any intruder would ever find his way to my abode was mathematically small and insignificant. Ill was that chance which brought you here: for They that you have frightened away will not return until the high stars repeat a certain rare and quickly passing conjunction; and much wisdom is lost to me in the interim." . . .
The astounding adventures of Ralibar Vooz, which followed his affront to the old man, make a saga as unusual as it is interest-gripping. You can not afford to miss this strange tale, which will be published complete in Weird Tales for October:
THE SEVEN GEASES
THE BLACK GOD'S KISS
A gripping story of a warrior maid who went down into a land of unthinkable evil in search of a strange weapon.
A strange piece of science-fiction—the story of an eccentric inventor who foretold the future by means of a weird machine.
By H. Bedford-Jones
Ranjit Singh, the East Indian necromancer and stage magician, was dead and buried, so they said—but what was that thing in the mummy-case?
An appealing story of a love so strong that it broke through the barriers of Death.
Oct. WEIRD TALES Out Oct. 1