THE WOMAN OF ADVENTURE A moment's utter silence followed.

The woman, with another gesture, drew off the aviator's cap she had worn; she pulled away the tight-fitting toupee that had been drawn over her head and that had masked her hair under its masculine disguise.

With deft fingers she shook out the masses of that hair--fine, dark masses that flowed down over her shoulders in streams of silken glory.
"Now you see me as I am!" said she, her voice low and just a little trembling, but wholly brave.

"Now, perhaps, you understand!" "I--but you--" stammered the Master, for the first time in all his life completely at a loss, dazed, staggered.
"Now you understand why I couldn't--wouldn't--let Dr.Lombardo dress my wound." "By the power of Allah! What does all this mean ?" The Master's voice had grown hoarse, unsteady.

"A woman--_here_--!" "Yes, a woman! The woman your expedition needs and must have, if death and sickness happen, as happen they will The woman you would never have allowed to come--the woman who determined to come at all hazards, even death itself.