Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

TO-MORROW 1S voice was poorly controlled, and he was expressing himself badly. “But can you prove to us that you can tell what some- one is thinking—I mean, with- out the intervention of your assistant——?” For the first time a flicker of interest appeared on the face of the magician. He motioned to the girl, who came slowly back from the auditorium towards him, and said in deceptively gentle tones: “Yes, Mr. Michel.” “Guiscard! him!” “Lost him? In God’s name, how? No, never mind ex- planations. Find him!’ Michel started. He said, incredulously: ““How do you know what my name is?”’ The audience chuckled. “J read your mind, of course. To prove that my assistant didn’t take it from the lining of your hat, I will tell you some other things you already know.” A slight smile was visible on his face now. We've lost ANOTHER DAY 27 “Your full name is August Michel. This morning you inherited a hundred and seventy thousand pounds, but you are extremely miserable in spite of this, owing to a series of nightmares you’ve been having. This afternoon you saw a psychiatrist named Vernon Quonsett at five o’clock. And if you come round to my dressing-room after the show——”’ here he looked steadily at Méichel, who noticed for the first time that his eyes were dark and tired—‘‘I think I can help you a little. Now, ladies and gentlemen, that is the end of my show.” Amid applause, Michel sat down numbly. A man in front of him turned around and said: “Was that right what ’e said, chum ?”’ Michel nodded. “Exactly right.” **“Aw, come off it, Bill,” said a friend of the man who had turned around, “it was all fixed. This bloke got planted ter do that. Night- mares cock and——” conmicloooks.comn