The Flying Legion

· 1936

The room was strange as the man, himself, who dwelt there. It seemed, in a way, the outward expression of his inner personality. He had ordered it built from his own plans, to please a whim of his restless mind, on top of the gigantic skyscraper that formed part of his properties. Windows boldly fronted all four cardinal compass-points--huge, plate-glass windows that gave a view unequaled in its sweep and power. The room seemed an eagle's nest perched on the summit of a man-made crag. The Arabic name that he had given it--_Niss'rosh_--meant just that. Singular place indeed, well-harmonized with its master.…

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