Adventures in the Far Future & Tales of Outer Space — page 249: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Knut, for instance. There wasn’t anything wrong with Knut, of course, but while he had talked to him he had sensed something. An uneasy feeling that lifted the hair on the nape of his neck, made the skin prickle along his spine. Yet nothing one could lay one’s hands on. Page, too. The damn fool probably would try to sneak out and capture some Candles and then there'd be all hell to Day. Funny, too, how Knut’s radios, both in his suit and in the jumper, had gone dead. Blasted out, as if they had been raked by a surge of energy. Knut couldn’t explain it, wouldn’t try. He just shrugged his shoulders. Funny things always were happening on Mercury. Craig gave up trying to sleep, slid his feet into slippers and walked across the room to the port. With a flip of his hand he raised the shutter and stared out Candles were rolling around. Suddenly one of them materialized into a monstrous whiskey bottle, lifted in the air, tilted, liquid pouring to the ground. Craig chuckled. That would be Old Creepy day dreaming ina dry moment. A furtive tap came on the door, and Craig wheeled. Fora tense moment he crouched, listening as if expecting an attack. Then he laughed softly to himself. He was jumpy, and no fooling. Maybe what he needed was a drink. Again the tap, more insistent, but still furtive. “Come in,” Craig called. Old Creepy sidled into the room. “I hoped you wasn’t asleep,” he said. “What is it, Creepy?” And even as he spoke, Craig felt himself going tense again. His nerves were all shot to hell. Creepy hitched forward. “Knut,” he whispered. “Knut beat me at checkers. Six times hand-running! | didn’t have a chance!” CORniclooo SS CO