Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

TO-MORROW IS ANOTHER DAY “Hardly anything. My parents were killed in a flying accident when I was about six, and I was brought up by a cousin of my mother, who disapproved of her marriage to my father and made my life quite insufferable, with her incessant. references to how much I owed her. I know almost nothing of my father’s family.” “T expected as much,” nodded Harrop. “Id better go into detail and give you the full story.”’ He settled back in his chair and opened the file he had been reading when Michel came in. “As far as we’ve been able to trace, the family first left a mark on history at the begin- ning of the seventeenth cen- tury, with the advent of Pierre Michel. He was in some ways more remarkable than any of his descendants, in that he lived to be ninety-eight and was reputed to look half his age when he died, and being a very clever financier, left a fortune which would come to 15 about five million pounds at today’s values. “Well, his grandson, Aug- uste-Luc Michel, took over, and in accordance with Pierre’s will, used all but one per cent. of that inheritance to found a banking and trading business which he moved to Paris, and eventually ran up to international fame.” “Why ‘all but one per cent’ ?’? demanded Michel. ‘“‘That,”’ said Harrop, deli- berately, “is the really strange thing. Pierre Michel left speci- fic instructions that it was not to be touched by anyone except the nearest descendant of his to be alive in the year 1954.” Michel raised astonished eyebrows. “He was looking pretty far ahead, wasn’t he?” Harrop shrugged. ‘“‘None- theless, here it is.” He passed two sheets of typed paper across the desk. “The first of these is a copy of the actual will—I have the original in a safe deposit, because it’s in rather bad condition—and the other is a translation.” conmicloooks.comn