Free Moon of Skulls by Robert E. Howard

some such thing — when he was fairly swathed in rags. Still, I too have been impressed with a strange difference about him — something that is not present in other men.”
    Gordon tapped his knee with his fingers — a habit of his when deeply engrossed by a problem of some sort.
    “You have asked as to the mission of this man,” he began slowly. “I will tell you all I know.”
    “My position with the British government is a unique and peculiar one. I hold what might be called a roving commission — an office created solely for the purpose of suiting my special needs. As a secret service official during the war, I convinced the powers of a need of such office and of my ability to fill it.
    “Somewhat over seventeen months ago I was sent to South Africa to investigate the unrest which has been growing among the natives of the interior ever since the World War and which has of late assumed alarming proportions. There I first got on the track of this man Kathulos. I found, in roundabout ways, that Africa was a seething cauldron of rebellion from Morocco to Cape Town. The old, old vow had been made again — the Negroes and the Mohammedans, banded together, should drive the white men into the sea.
    “This pact has been made before but always, hitherto, broken. Now, however, I sensed a giant intellect and a monstrous genius behind the veil, a genius powerful enough to accomplish this union and hold it together. Working entirely on hints and vague whispered clues, I followed the trail up through Central Africa and into Egypt. There, at last, I came upon definite evidence that such a man existed. The whispers hinted of a living dead man — a skull-faced man. I learned that this man was the high priest of the mysterious Scorpion society of northern Africa. He was spoken of variously as Skull-face, the Master, and the Scorpion.
    “Following a trail of bribed officials and filched state secrets, I at last trailed him to Alexandria, where I had my first sight of him in a dive in the native quarter — disguised as a leper. I heard him distinctly addressed as ‘Mighty Scorpion’ by the natives, but he escaped me.
    “All trace vanished then; the trail ran out entirely until rumors of strange happenings in London reached me and I came back to England to investigate an apparent leak in the war office.
    “As I thought, the Scorpion had preceded me. This man, whose education and craft transcend anything I ever met with, is simply the leader and instigator of a world-wide movement such as the world has never seen before. He plots, in a word, the overthrow of the white races!
    “His ultimate aim is a black empire, with himself as emperor of the world! And to that end he has banded together in one monstrous conspiracy the black, the brown and the yellow.”
    “I understand now what Yussef Ali meant when he said ‘the days of the empire,’” I muttered.
    “Exactly,” Gordon rapped with suppressed excitement. “Kathulos’ power is unlimited and unguessed. Like an octopus his tentacles stretch to the high places of civilization and the far corners of the world. And his main weapon is — dope! He has flooded Europe and no doubt America with opium and hashish, and in spite of all effort it has been impossible to discover the break in the barriers through which the hellish stuff is coming. With this he ensnares and enslaves men and women.
    “You have told me of the aristocratic men and women you saw coming to Yun Shatu’s dive. Without doubt they were dope addicts — for, as I said, the habit lurks in high places — holders of governmental positions, no doubt, coming to trade for the stuff they craved and giving in return state secrets, inside information and promise of protection for the Master’s crimes.
    “Oh, he does not work haphazardly! Before ever the black flood breaks, he will be prepared; if he has his way, the governments of the white races will be honeycombs of corruption — the strongest men of the white