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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 3, August 1941
Page 29
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The Munsey Panorama SOUTHERN STAR Page 29 called Drogio. The men he sent back told tales of a mountain of gold, from the top of which Aymas ruled a powerful empire; and they said that the holy man could fly at will from the top of the mountain to the valley below. They mentioned a fountain that flowed pure gold, and acres of gold at the bottoms of the lakes. Explorer McPherson found that the legend was true. In the South American jungle McPherson met a young man (the Singing Devil) who was trying to rescue two girls from the hands of a band of ruffians. McPherson joined him, and in the conflict that followed they were besieged on the top of the ancient mountain. The remnant of the once-great race of sun-worshippers still lived there, and McPherson saw with his own eyes the lakes, the fountain, the altars, and the sacrifice. The villain, O'Reilly, defeated in the battle, flew away on the wings of Aymas, but was shot down. First half of the story is slow and awkwardly done, but the second half is rip-snorting action, both weird and fantastic. THE FEAST OF ABOU BEN RODE, by Henry Christopher Christie. 5pp, September, 1911. Not weird, not fantasy, not science fiction -- but remarkably off-the-trail. How Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany dined with a poverty-stricken Arab chieftain -- and why. THE WHITE MAN'S HOPE, by F. Julian Carroll. 8pp, September, 1911. The world's heavyweight champion was a negro. When it seemed that no white man could beat him, along came Dr. Cantley and knocked out the champ in one round. It was accomplished by means of an injection that increased tenfold the doctor's nerve responses, making his movements so fast that the movie camera failed to record them. THE PERSON FROM THE PYRAMIDS, by Edgar Franklin. Serial, 4 parts, November, 1911. Dr. Schlumpf, having isolated that elusive link between aliveness and deadness, and having gotten it into a bottle, needed a dead body to restore to life. William Haskins, freight agent, had an Egyptian mummy, the owner of which he was unable to locate. With pardonable scientific frenzy, Dr. Schlumpf swiped the mummy, thus providing himself with virtually the ne plus ultra in dead bodies. The first shot out of the bottle brought the mummy to life, revealed him to be an ancient kind whose title, unofficially, had been "The Son of Disaster"; and within a very short time everybody was unhappy. The king suffered because he couldn't get it through his head that he wasn't in old Egypt. His subjects were disobedient, his army didn't appear when he summoned it, and, not having dined for four or five thousand years, he couldn't begin to get enough to eat. Haskins, overly conscientious, was determined to get the mummy back into the box in the freight depot. Dr. Schlumpf, having created a white elephant, didn't know what the devil to do with it. And to add to the general embarrassment, the Son of Disaster was annoyed at being alive, as he had committed suicide in the first place. Stepping off from that situation, humorist Edgar Franklin goes ahead with explosive adventures, great dialogue and good characterization; but he confines himself to two or three changes of scene, so that the last three parts of the serial are about the last thing you would expect. Indeed, it's a good bet that you'll find this something dif-
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The Munsey Panorama SOUTHERN STAR Page 29 called Drogio. The men he sent back told tales of a mountain of gold, from the top of which Aymas ruled a powerful empire; and they said that the holy man could fly at will from the top of the mountain to the valley below. They mentioned a fountain that flowed pure gold, and acres of gold at the bottoms of the lakes. Explorer McPherson found that the legend was true. In the South American jungle McPherson met a young man (the Singing Devil) who was trying to rescue two girls from the hands of a band of ruffians. McPherson joined him, and in the conflict that followed they were besieged on the top of the ancient mountain. The remnant of the once-great race of sun-worshippers still lived there, and McPherson saw with his own eyes the lakes, the fountain, the altars, and the sacrifice. The villain, O'Reilly, defeated in the battle, flew away on the wings of Aymas, but was shot down. First half of the story is slow and awkwardly done, but the second half is rip-snorting action, both weird and fantastic. THE FEAST OF ABOU BEN RODE, by Henry Christopher Christie. 5pp, September, 1911. Not weird, not fantasy, not science fiction -- but remarkably off-the-trail. How Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany dined with a poverty-stricken Arab chieftain -- and why. THE WHITE MAN'S HOPE, by F. Julian Carroll. 8pp, September, 1911. The world's heavyweight champion was a negro. When it seemed that no white man could beat him, along came Dr. Cantley and knocked out the champ in one round. It was accomplished by means of an injection that increased tenfold the doctor's nerve responses, making his movements so fast that the movie camera failed to record them. THE PERSON FROM THE PYRAMIDS, by Edgar Franklin. Serial, 4 parts, November, 1911. Dr. Schlumpf, having isolated that elusive link between aliveness and deadness, and having gotten it into a bottle, needed a dead body to restore to life. William Haskins, freight agent, had an Egyptian mummy, the owner of which he was unable to locate. With pardonable scientific frenzy, Dr. Schlumpf swiped the mummy, thus providing himself with virtually the ne plus ultra in dead bodies. The first shot out of the bottle brought the mummy to life, revealed him to be an ancient kind whose title, unofficially, had been "The Son of Disaster"; and within a very short time everybody was unhappy. The king suffered because he couldn't get it through his head that he wasn't in old Egypt. His subjects were disobedient, his army didn't appear when he summoned it, and, not having dined for four or five thousand years, he couldn't begin to get enough to eat. Haskins, overly conscientious, was determined to get the mummy back into the box in the freight depot. Dr. Schlumpf, having created a white elephant, didn't know what the devil to do with it. And to add to the general embarrassment, the Son of Disaster was annoyed at being alive, as he had committed suicide in the first place. Stepping off from that situation, humorist Edgar Franklin goes ahead with explosive adventures, great dialogue and good characterization; but he confines himself to two or three changes of scene, so that the last three parts of the serial are about the last thing you would expect. Indeed, it's a good bet that you'll find this something dif-
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