Argosy, September 1955 — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

II2 JOHN WYNDHAM of defence to delay them. They simply pushed forward on a broad front, looting and stealing as they came, and meeting nothing to hold them up until they were over twenty miles into civilized parts. By that time we had the beginnings of a militia to harry them and head them off. Our men—dquite a lot of them, at any rate—had guns; the Fringes people for the most part were armed only with bows and arrows, and knives, and spears. Nevertheless, their path of advance was so wide that they were difficult to deal with. They were better woodsmen and cleverer in concealment than real humans, so that they were able to come on another twenty miles before we could contain them and bring them to battle. It was exciting for a boy. The Fringes people were within ten miles of our house at Waknuk, and our yard was one of the rallying points for the militia. My father who had had an arrow through his arm a week before was helping to organize the newcomers into squads. For several days there was a great bustling and coming and going as they were registered and sorted, and eventually they rode out with a fine air of determination, and all the women of the household waving them off with handkerchiefs. Finally, when they had all gone, the place seemed strangely quiet for a day. ‘Then there came a rider, dashing back. He paused long enough to tell us that there had been a big battle and. the Fringes people were running away as fast as they could and some of their leaders had been taken prisoner, before he galloped on with his news. That same afternoon a troop of ten horsemen came riding into the yard, with two of the captured Fringes leaders in their midst. I dropped what I was doing, and ran up to see. For a moment it was disappointing. ‘There were such tales about the Fringes that I fully expected to see creatures with two heads, or hairy all over, or with half a dozen arms and legs. Instead, at first glance they seemed to be just ordinary bearded men, though rather dirty and in very ragged clothes. One of them was a short man with long fair hair which looked as though it had been trimmed with a knife. But when I looked at the other, I had a shock and stood dumbfounded, staring at him. His face was so familiar that I felt physically jolted. I went on staring, with my mouth open. Except for the ragged clothes and the unkemptness of his beard, he was the image of my father. He might have been my father... He looked down and noticed me, casually at first; then he stared harder, and a strange look that I didn’t understand came into his eyes ... I don’t know whether he would have spoken then or not, for at that moment people came out of the house to see what was happen- ing—my father, with his arm still in a sling, among them. I saw my father pause on the step and survey the group of horse- men; then he, too, caught sight of the man in the middle of them. For a moment he stared, just as I had done—then al] his colour comicbooks.conn ~