Edgar Rice Burroughs

Beads of perspiration followed the seams of his high, wrinkled forehead, replacing the tears which might have lessened the pressure upon his overwrought nerves. His slender frame shook, as with ague, and at times was racked by a convulsive shudder. A sudden step upon the stairway leading to his workshop brought him trembling and wide eyed to his feet, staring fearfully at the locked and bolted door. Although he knew perfectly well whose the advancing footfalls were, he was all but overcome by the madness of apprehension as they came softly nearer and nearer to the barred door. At last they halted before it, to be followed by a gentle knock. "Daddy " came the sweet tones of a girl's voice. The man made an effort to take a firm grasp upon himself that no tell-tale evidence of his emotion might be betrayed in his speech. "Daddy " called the girl again, a trace of anxiety in her voice this time. "What IS the matter with you, and what ARE you doing? You've been shut up in that hateful old room for three days now without a morsel to eat, and in all likelihood without a wink of sleep. You'll kill yourself with your stuffy old experiments." The man's face softened. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart," he replied in a well controlled voice.

The legendary Tarzan work of artist Jesse Marsh remains an enduring, singular vision, captivating generations of comics readers and earning the acclaim of artists from Russ Manning to Alex Toth to Los Bros Hernandez. Marsh's nineteen-year collaboration with writer Gaylord DuBois defined Edgar Rice Burroughs' jungle lord, and these iconic adventures live again in the pages of Tarzan: The Jesse Marsh Years Omnibus, meticulously restored and value priced. "(Marsh) is in that group of the finest storytellers comics has ever produced." -Gilbert Hernandez (Love & Rockets)

The lieutenant, who was also gazing through his own glasses, finally brought them to rest upon the same spot that had held the attention of his superior. "Yes," he said, "an English farm. It must be Greystoke's, for there is none other in this part of British East Africa. God is with us, Herr Captain." "We have come upon the English schweinhund long before he can have learned that his country is at war with ours," replied Schneider. "Let him be the first to feel the iron hand of Germany." "Let us hope that he is at home," said the lieutenant, "that we may take him with us when we report to Kraut at Nairobi.

It-well, read it yourself, and see if you, too, do not find food for frantic conjecture, for tantalizing doubts, and for a great hope. Here it is: DEAR SIR: I think that I have run across one of the most remarkable coincidences in modern literature. But let me start at the beginning: I am, by profession, a wanderer upon the face of the earth. I have no trade-nor any other occupation. My father bequeathed me a competency; some remoter ancestors lust to roam. I have combined the two and invested them carefully and without extravagance.

"I don't like 'em," said the assistant secretary; "but sometimes you got to hand it to 'em." "Yes," I growled, "and there's nothing I'd enjoy more than handing it to them " And then the telephone-bell rang. The assistant secretary answered, and as I watched him, I saw his jaw drop and his face go white. "My God " he exclaimed as he hung up the receiver as one in a trance. "It can't be " "What?" I asked. "Mr. Tyler is dead," he answered in a dull voice. "He died at sea, suddenly, yesterday." The next ten days were occupied in burying Mr. Bowen J. Tyler, Sr., and arranging plans for the succor of his son. Mr. Tom Billings, the late Mr. Tyler's secretary, did it all. He is force, energy, initiative and good judgment combined and personified. I never have beheld a more dynamic young man.

It was in the Fall of nineteen seventeen at an officers' training camp that I first became acquainted with John Carter, War Lord of Barsoom, through the pages of your novel "A Princess of Mars." The story made a profound impression upon me and while my better judgment assured me that it was but a highly imaginative piece of fiction, a suggestion of the verity of it pervaded my inner consciousness to such an extent that I found myself dreaming of Mars and John Carter, of Dejah Thoris, of Tars Tarkas and of Woola as if they had been entities of my own experience rather than the figments of your imagination.

The Warlord of Mars is a science fantasy novel by American writer Edgar Rice Burroughs, the third of his Barsoom series. This novel continues where the previous one in the series, The Gods of Mars abruptly ended. At the end of the previous book, John Carter's wife, the princess Dejah Thoris, is imprisoned in the Temple of the Sun by the vile pretender goddess Issus. It is said one has to wait an entire Barsoomian year before the room the prisoner is in revolves back to the entrance. Edgar Rice Burroughs (September 1, 1875 - March 19, 1950) was an American writer best known for his creations of the jungle hero Tarzan and the heroic Mars adventurer John Carter, although he produced works in many genres. Aiming his work at the pulps, Burroughs had his rst story, Under the Moons of Mars, serialized by Frank Munsey in the February to July 1912 issues of The All-Story - under the name "Norman Bean" to protect his reputation. Under the Moons of Mars inaugurated the Barsoom series and earned Burroughs US$400 ($9,927 today). It was rst published as a book by A. C. McClurg of Chicago in 1917, entitled A Princess of Mars. In a Paris Review interview, Ray Bradbury said of Burroughs that "Edgar Rice Burroughs never would have looked upon himself as a social mover and shaker with social obligations. But as it turns out - and I love to say it because it upsets everyone terribly - Burroughs is probably the most influential writer in the entire history of the world." Bradbury continued that "By giving romance and adventure to a whole generation of boys, Burroughs caused them to go out and decide to become special." In Something of Myself (published posthumously in 1937) Rudyard Kipling wrote: "My Jungle Books begat Zoos of them. But the genius of all the genii was one who wrote a series called Tarzan of the Apes." This classic title has been published by RADLEY BOOKS. Each RADLEY CLASSIC is a meticulously restored, luxurious and faithful reproduction of a classic book; produced with elegant text layout, clarity of presentation, and stylistic features that make reading a true pleasure. Special attention is given to legible fonts and adequate letter sizing, correct line length for readability, generous margins and triple lead (lavish line separation); plus we do not allow any mistakes/changes/additions to creep into the author's words. Visit RADLEY BOOKS at www.radleybooks.com (or search RADLEY CLASSIC on Amazon) to see more classic book titles in this series.