The vanguard of Venus

by LANDELL BARTLETT
Presented With the Compliments of
Copyrighted 1928
EXPERIMENTER PUBLISHING CO., 230 Fifth Avenue, New York
The lights had now reached their maximum, giving the huge room the effect of being flooded by intensely bright moonlight. Behind me, and on all sides, stood scores of these creatures, similar in appearance to the Field General on the throne. They stood motionless, regarding me stolidly with their smoldering, beady eyes. . . . Finally Oomlag turned to me: “The Field General wants to ask you a few questions,” he said, stepping to one side.
The VANGUARD of VENUS
By LANDELL BARTLETT
(Extract from letter dated February 16, 1927, from Oliver Robertson, banker of Calcutta, India, to J. B. Cardigan, President of Cardigan Press Service, Inc.)
. . . . . we got into a pretty hot argument over it, too. Of course, I thought Morrison was kidding me at first; but he kept insisting that Murdock wouldn’t have done such a thing if he really hadn’t meant it for the truth.
I told him that Murdock had probably had his little secret hobby of fiction-writing unknown to any of his friends, that he had thought up this story for his own entertainment, and had taken this means of making it “plausible.” I admit I don’t understand why he should want to do such a thing, but I think you will agree with me that at least it is very clever. You can never tell what these serious-minded, middle-aged bachelors are going to do next. I was really quite exasperated at Morrison for believing this story. He knew poor Stanley better than I, it is true; but as joint executor of the estate, I insisted that if it were to be published at all, it should be as fiction, pure and simple. Then, if anyone wants to believe it, let him go to it.
Morrison argued that the notarial seal and the definite instructions on the envelope showed Murdock meant business—that he wasn’t the kind to clutter up a strong box with junk. He reminded me that Murdock had chucked a fine position in the United States to come to India on a smaller salary and in a technically inferior rating, which was a fair indication of the truth of his story. Murdock was unimaginative as far as I know, but this story seems to indicate otherwise. He was a splendid chap, sober and industrious. He was the only one killed in that wreck of the Central of India at Coomptah ten days ago . . .