Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

“...AND A STAR TO STEER HER BY” “Why? You’ve still got a ship.” “I’m older than you are, Garv. The doc told me yesterday I’d better quit thinking about it. No good for acceleration any more.” He settled back in the comfortable chair and then put his feet up on the table. Garver didn’t seem to mind. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I had something to do like you. It’s just hard to retire to nothing.” “Well, now, why don’t we—” Garver began. There was a sudden interruption at the bar. A small, dark-haired lad began mixing it up with a tall, big-boned Swede. Customers cleared the area in a hurry. The little man went down amid a clatter of barstools, but was immediately on his feet again and wading in with ferocious intensity. Garver came to his feet instantly. The bartender vaulted the bar and started to break it up, taking on the Swede, who was more his size. Garver waded in with the idea of breaking the small man away. Vandethoff was right on his heels, a match box clasped in one fist. Grabbing the youngster, Garver was surprised momentarily when the scrapper turned on him. He felt the other’s foot scrape down his shin and land painfully on the small bones of his foot. That made him mad. He got in close and held the youngster in a front bear hug. In one quick, smooth motion, he brought his metal hand around front in close to the young- ster’s chest, then let him have it with a short, easy, upward chin jab. He felt the crunch of: teeth as his metal palm made contact. He let him fall and turned to find the Swede pinned by the weight of the bartender and three others. Van- derhoff was standing against the bar with ‘a bottle in one hand, ready to let the Swede have it if he didn’t calm down. 25 “O.K., what goes on here?” Garver snapped, rubbing his bruised shin. The Swede struggled briefly. “Let me at that smart young punk! Pll—” “Shut up!’ Garver roared his roughest first-mate voice. He turned to the three men who had been sitting next to them at the bar. ‘““Who started it?” “Well,” one started to explain, “Swede here was kidding Shorty about his southern accent. The kid told him to shut up, and Swede don’t take that kind of stuff off kids.” | “Let him up,” said Garver. Swede got to his feet, looking big and brawny. ‘Pay your bill and get out!” “Look here, you little—” Garver stepped up to him and clenched his metal hand. He stood a good five inches shorter. “I said pay your bill and get out! You’d look funny picking up your teeth with a broken arm!” The Swede hesitated a moment, took a long look at the hand, then flipped a ten solar note on the bar and stalked out. ..“This happen often, Garv?” Van- derhoff wondered. “You ought to know spacemen,” replied Garver. Looking down at the still form of the youngster, he told the bartender, “‘Joe, take him down to my office and heave him on the couch.” “‘What’s your name, son?’’ Garver asked as the youngster came to and sat up. Three of his lower teeth were gone, but there was still fire in his eyes. He spat blood and answered, “Bernotte, suh. Harvey Bernotte.” “‘What’s your ship?” ‘Ah ain’t go none no more, suh.” Garver walked to a wall locker and Sao a brandy. ““How come? What appened?” Bernotte swung his legs to the CoOnniclooolkks com