Page:Weird Tales Volume 7 Number 3 (1926-03).djvu/145

to where the box lay full length on the floor.

He reached it and sank down upon it. The box had been fastened with straps. He undid them one by one. He pushed the lid half off. Fumes from some powerful drug welled up from the interior of that box. A smile began to play around the corners of Tog Blaata's mouth as his eyes made out what lay there inside.

So those who still remained loyal to the Chosen Prince, those to whom he had outlined his plan when he realized what was in store for him, had carried out his last desperate plan. They had not failed him.

The smile that played around Tog Blaata's lips widened, it spread over his whole face. He could stand it no longer. Ho threw back his head and laughed. He roared. But no sign of a smile touched the unconscious face of Prince Zeneth, who lay in the box that had been the last to be brought aboard.

The last picture that I saw on my television set just as the pictures faded altogether was that of a sour-looking individual who stuck his head into the room just as Tog Blaata finished his last picture.

A VERITABLE thrill-story—a strange tale of tremendous adventures that will send eery shivers up the readers' spines—a tale of startling and unexpected happenings, from a viewpoint never before used in literature. Agony, violence and sudden death—indomitable heroism—weird happenings, gruesome atrocities, and tremendous fortitude in the grip of a terrific evil power. Truly never before was a werewolf story comparable to this one.

THIS remarkable thrill-tale will be printed complete in the

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