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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 4, December 1941

Page 26

The Munsey Panorama     SOUTHERN STAR     Page 26

Herein, without leaving his apartment atop a skyscraper, he solves the murder of a lovely lady.
Gordon Glace, reporter, gathers the facts and runs the errands.
[[underline]]THE DEVIL SHIP[[end underline]], by H. D. Couzens, 9 pp, Feb. 17, 1912.
The horror type, and all the strength and the saltiness of the sea is in it.
Skipper Billy Englehart and mate Jim Carncross boarded the derelict from a lifeboat. There they found a gibbering idiot who shrieked: "Hogan! Hogan! They're coming; Hogan and Scales! Scales, he heats 'em -- all over the ship he heats 'em!"
By all the hells, it was a devil-ship in truth! Hogan was a giant ape, and Scales --? Can't you guess?
Recommended.
[[underline]]ACROSS THE CENTURIES[[end underline]], by Edward S. Faust. 5pp. Feb. 24, 1912.
Since he was a boy, Cecil Hamilton had had a recurrent dream, and always it had begun with the same strange perfume of attar and roses and myrrh. Now, as he stood before the temple of Hathor, in Egypt, that perfume was in the air.
A piece of granite, senselessly falling, struck him down, and when he recovered, an enchanting priestess ministered to him.
He recognized her at once as his love of a previous incantation, and he knew that at last his life had achieved its perfect symphony. 
Then he[[?]] heard the spirit music, and it gradually dawned upon him that he had been killed when the piece of granite fell.
[[underline]]RED O'ROURKE'S RICHES[[end underline]], by Katherine Eggleston and Frank H. Richardson. Serial, 8 parts, March 2, 1912.
Say, what about those mysterious prehistoric Americans, the cliff-dwellers? Whence came they, how did they live, what were they like; and above all, how did they manage to vanish and leave so few traces behind?
I dunno.
But their story is the principal thread of this narrative, and so far as pure story goes, it is an intriguing thing.
Nearly two thousand years B. C. a banished Egyptian prince, along with his followers, settled the desert mountains of Arizona and founded a great and cultured race. The fertile acres atop the sawtooth mountains were the home of the priesthood, where daily sacrifice was made to the water god. The mountain itself was honeycombed with beautiful caverns and sacred chambers, and gold was everywhere, bubbling in the fountains, and cresting in the subterranean rivers.
In 1911, long years after the last of the cliff-dwellers were supposed to be dead, Red O'Rourke and his friends, prospecting for old, came upon the sawtooth mountain. They saw the pyramid of bones. They knew that a girl had gone ahead of them. They knew that gold was on the mountain. When they had struggled to the peak, they found twelve survivors of the ancient race.
In the underground hall of records they saw the history of the tribe, written in Egyptian, and also a prophecy of the coming of Red O'Rourke. . . .
The palace of the water god, the beach of gold, the blinding rites, the grotto of the crabs, and the death of Tonje[[?]] the high priest are things to be remembered.
There's a swell story here, but to the best of my knowledge, no one has as yet written it. The effort of these collaborators is entirely too spotty for my taste. In their bungling, dime novel way, they make the first two parts simply a hunk of very bad Western hokum; they let the main characters get clean away from them; and their shov-

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The Munsey Panorama SOUTHERN STAR Page 26 Herein, without leaving his apartment atop a skyscraper, he solves the murder of a lovely lady. Gordon Glace, reporter, gathers the facts and runs the errands. [[underline]]THE DEVIL SHIP[[end underline]], by H. D. Couzens, 9 pp, Feb. 17, 1912. The horror type, and all the strength and the saltiness of the sea is in it. Skipper Billy Englehart and mate Jim Carncross boarded the derelict from a lifeboat. There they found a gibbering idiot who shrieked: "Hogan! Hogan! They're coming; Hogan and Scales! Scales, he heats 'em -- all over the ship he heats 'em!" By all the hells, it was a devil-ship in truth! Hogan was a giant ape, and Scales --? Can't you guess? Recommended. [[underline]]ACROSS THE CENTURIES[[end underline]], by Edward S. Faust. 5pp. Feb. 24, 1912. Since he was a boy, Cecil Hamilton had had a recurrent dream, and always it had begun with the same strange perfume of attar and roses and myrrh. Now, as he stood before the temple of Hathor, in Egypt, that perfume was in the air. A piece of granite, senselessly falling, struck him down, and when he recovered, an enchanting priestess ministered to him. He recognized her at once as his love of a previous incantation, and he knew that at last his life had achieved its perfect symphony. Then he[[?]] heard the spirit music, and it gradually dawned upon him that he had been killed when the piece of granite fell. [[underline]]RED O'ROURKE'S RICHES[[end underline]], by Katherine Eggleston and Frank H. Richardson. Serial, 8 parts, March 2, 1912. Say, what about those mysterious prehistoric Americans, the cliff-dwellers? Whence came they, how did they live, what were they like; and above all, how did they manage to vanish and leave so few traces behind? I dunno. But their story is the principal thread of this narrative, and so far as pure story goes, it is an intriguing thing. Nearly two thousand years B. C. a banished Egyptian prince, along with his followers, settled the desert mountains of Arizona and founded a great and cultured race. The fertile acres atop the sawtooth mountains were the home of the priesthood, where daily sacrifice was made to the water god. The mountain itself was honeycombed with beautiful caverns and sacred chambers, and gold was everywhere, bubbling in the fountains, and cresting in the subterranean rivers. In 1911, long years after the last of the cliff-dwellers were supposed to be dead, Red O'Rourke and his friends, prospecting for old, came upon the sawtooth mountain. They saw the pyramid of bones. They knew that a girl had gone ahead of them. They knew that gold was on the mountain. When they had struggled to the peak, they found twelve survivors of the ancient race. In the underground hall of records they saw the history of the tribe, written in Egyptian, and also a prophecy of the coming of Red O'Rourke. . . . The palace of the water god, the beach of gold, the blinding rites, the grotto of the crabs, and the death of Tonje[[?]] the high priest are things to be remembered. There's a swell story here, but to the best of my knowledge, no one has as yet written it. The effort of these collaborators is entirely too spotty for my taste. In their bungling, dime novel way, they make the first two parts simply a hunk of very bad Western hokum; they let the main characters get clean away from them; and their shov-