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Galaxy, issue 5, December 1938
Page 12
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closed on the butt he too had joined his friend in dreamless slumber. Mists of purple and black swirled and were sucked into a a bottomless and infinite void. Streaks of brilliant red and yellow combined with a sickly green darted at him and seemed to pierce his brain with tiny needles. Sanders tried to put his hand to his head but couldn't do this. Wonderingly his brain pondered the fact for a minute or two. Then he remembered. A fight, or rather what would have been a fight had he been permitted to get started. He painfully turned his head and looked arounf the room in which he found himself. It was evidently aboard a space ship and the startling thing about it was that it was not a Patrol ship but a private vessel. Of course! It must be the pirate ship. But why did they attack the Patrolmen when they had been calling for aid. It must be a trick. They hoped that the Patrol would send only one ship and then they had planned to do as they had done. Shoot the Patrolmen...And then what? The room looked like a jail. It was bare of luxuries, possessing only two small built in bunks, a small cabinet and a couch. Sanders glanced longingly at the bunk, he was lying on the couch, and there to his surprise he saw a movement. Jack, of course! He now found time for a tardy wish for Jack's wellbeing. He wiggled, trying to loosen his bonds. The door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered man strutted in. His chin was blue from the dark whiskers which he was forced to shave every day. He looked haughtingly down his nose around the compartment, then he marched over to the couch. He frowned down at Sanders, biting his lip comtemplatively, turned and went to the door where he called someone. The other men entered the room. They strode over to the couch and the foremost spoke harshly. "Remove his bonds and bring him to the engine room." The second man, dull-faced, with huge brawny shoulders, proceeded to carry out his instructions. Sanders first thought to resist but found
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closed on the butt he too had joined his friend in dreamless slumber. Mists of purple and black swirled and were sucked into a a bottomless and infinite void. Streaks of brilliant red and yellow combined with a sickly green darted at him and seemed to pierce his brain with tiny needles. Sanders tried to put his hand to his head but couldn't do this. Wonderingly his brain pondered the fact for a minute or two. Then he remembered. A fight, or rather what would have been a fight had he been permitted to get started. He painfully turned his head and looked arounf the room in which he found himself. It was evidently aboard a space ship and the startling thing about it was that it was not a Patrol ship but a private vessel. Of course! It must be the pirate ship. But why did they attack the Patrolmen when they had been calling for aid. It must be a trick. They hoped that the Patrol would send only one ship and then they had planned to do as they had done. Shoot the Patrolmen...And then what? The room looked like a jail. It was bare of luxuries, possessing only two small built in bunks, a small cabinet and a couch. Sanders glanced longingly at the bunk, he was lying on the couch, and there to his surprise he saw a movement. Jack, of course! He now found time for a tardy wish for Jack's wellbeing. He wiggled, trying to loosen his bonds. The door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered man strutted in. His chin was blue from the dark whiskers which he was forced to shave every day. He looked haughtingly down his nose around the compartment, then he marched over to the couch. He frowned down at Sanders, biting his lip comtemplatively, turned and went to the door where he called someone. The other men entered the room. They strode over to the couch and the foremost spoke harshly. "Remove his bonds and bring him to the engine room." The second man, dull-faced, with huge brawny shoulders, proceeded to carry out his instructions. Sanders first thought to resist but found
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