This rousing story, originally published in 1909, is the further adventures of Terence O'Rourke, adventurer and soldier of fortune. In this early thriller we are taken on a tour from Monte Carlo to Egypt, then on to Bombay and across India to finally... Read more

This rousing story, originally published in 1909, is the further adventures of Terence O'Rourke, adventurer and soldier of fortune. In this early thriller we are taken on a tour from Monte Carlo to Egypt, then on to Bombay and across India to finally end in Rangoon, Burma. This well written story, full of wonderful descriptions of the sights and sounds of the areas traversed, takes O'Rourke through many trials and tribulations as he tries to fulfill his quest. All in all a great read.Author Louis Joseph Vance (1879–1933) was a prolific American adventure/thriller novelist. Illustrator John Rae (1882-1963) was a prolific writer and illustrator of children's books as well as an illustrator of adult books.This eBook edition was carefully prepared by referring to an original text to correct scanning errors that are common in other versions. Old spellings and word usages have been preserved, but obvious spelling and other typesetting mistakes in the original have been corrected.This edition was prepared and edited by Snazz eBooks™.Original cover design and other original content of this edition are Copyright © 2015 by Snazz eBooks™. All rights reserved. No reproduction by any means is allowed without permission.Here are two excerpts:To a man whose trade was fighting, the world just then was a most distressful place, too peaceful entirely. In no quarter of it to which his mind turned in longing and hopeful inquiry, in no land however remote or the contrary, savage or tame, could he detect symptoms of anything resembling a rumpus worthy his attention, his ambition, or his recognised abilities. South America he pondered only briefly, dismissing it with a contemptuous shake of the head. While as for the Balkans--pouf!--the Balkans never burgeoned with the black flower of their grim promise; a man who waited for the Balkans to get down to business would grow as rusty and stiff as a condemned magazine-gun. Africa? It was true, according to rumour at least, that the French were enjoying their annual difference of opinion with the Touaregg, somewhere south of Biskra; but that could be nothing more than an insignificant border war, in which an honest mercenary would profit scantily if at all. Indeed, it was the opinion of the O'Rourke, who knew the Touaregg of old, that the French got small change from them; though the converse was likewise true; the desert people were chiefly useful in that they provided excellent training for the conscripts of France. In Asia only India rumbled; and O'Rourke--perhaps fatuously--held with the English that the foreboded eruption, however inevitable, would be long in coming.... Alack! where might a man turn to find honourable fighting, honest loot?An hour passed, and the chill in the air became more intense; dawn was at hand. A sense of security, of dangers left behind, came to the Irishman; he began to breathe more freely, though still the polished butt of a repeating rifle swinging from the saddle remained a comfort to his palm. He grew more confident, mentally at ease, seeing the desert take shape in the moonlight and show itself desolate on every hand.Even as he gained assurance from this thought, the guide turned in his saddle and cried a warning: The Touaregg! From that moment on both wielded merciless whips; the mehara sagged lower to the earth, racked over it more swiftly than ever, long necks stretched at length. The pack camel dropped to the rear, unheeded. For out of the moonlit wastes behind them had shrilled a voice, cruel and wild, announcing discovery and the inception of the chase. The fugitives had need of no sharper spur.A rifle shot rang sharp on the echoes of that cry, but the bullet must have fallen far short. And when O'Rourke found occasion to glance over his shoulder, it seemed to him that the desert teemed with pursuing, phantom Touaregg, unreal and unsubstantial-seeming in the illusion of the light. Less