Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 41 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

FLY BY NIGHT Because he couldn’t know whether or not he was being followed or watched, he took no chances, and walked. How slow and tiring itis, he thought, when he could so easily cover this distance in seconds. For one of the things he’d found was that his speed was limited only by the air resist- ance. He’d covered the ten miles home the night before in about two minutes, including time for zooming a couple of thousand feet at starting, and doing the same in free fall when he got home. William Newton was still some distance from the high- - way when he saw an oncom- ing car suddenly swerve and roll over into the ditch. He flashed forward, and found the occupant, a badly injured young woman. There was a growing pool of blood beneath her head. She seemed un- conscious... or dead. Swiftly he felt for the pulse in her throat and found it beating, but slowly. Carefully he dragged her body from the wrecked car, and roughly bandaged her head with his handkerchief. “Golly, she’s got to get to 59 hospital right away,” he thought, his eyes misty at her plight. He looked both ways up and down the broad, straight highway, but no car lights were visible. He was standing there in indecision when she moaned softly. Instantly he was on his knees beside her. Her face was contorted, but her eyes still closed. Evidently she was only conscious enough to feel pain. For long, agonising seconds Newton fought with himself. He wanted to help her. Oh, so much he wanted to. Every fibre in him cried out that he could—and should! That he was the only person who could get her to the hospital in time to save her life. Yet he shrank back from the possibility of his peculiar gift being discovered, and him- self pushed into the limelight of hounding publicity. **Yet this is undoubtedly the reason I was given this ability,” the startling thought came to him. “There must have been some real reason. I’ve been chosen for something ... by something . . . or someone!” Indecision gone, he stooped conmmclooks.conn