Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION Richard Montague.” She stumbled a little over the name. “All right. I suppose you’d better send h'm up.” She vanished, leaving the door slightly ajar. Michel stood with one hand on the open book before him, won- dering with a slight frown what this unknown visitor could want. The swing group on the continental programme expired in a discordant noise that was mostly atmospherics, and he put out a hand mechanically to turn it off. A friend of Montague——? ““Not a friend of Montague. Sorry.” Roger Prentiss pushed the door shut behind him. He was tallish and dark, rather sallow. His hands, Michel noticed at once, were like a * e e < musician’s. He said: ““You’re the bank clerk who——’”’. Prentiss nodded. He said: ““Maybe you recognise my voice too.” Curiously, Michel nodded. He said: “Of course. I heard you speak——” And stopped, his mouth 38 half open in astonishment. This voice—— “You spoke to me—at Dr. Quonsett’s ?” Prentiss nodded. “It was a clumsy and risky expedient, I admit now. Still, it’s gone undetected so far—I hope. I also suggested, as you might say, that you make out a cheque for two hundred pounds instead of twenty, because it may come in handy for immediate ex- penses when we get you away from here—if we can get you away from here, which I am beginning to doubt.” Michel was frankly staring. Prentiss noticed his astonish- ment, and half chuckled. He said: “I’m sorry. I forgot, you’re even more in the dark than I was at three o’clock this afternoon, and I had then no faintest idea either whom I was fighting or even that I was fighting at all. I'll explain. D’you mind if I sit down? No, I won't deprive you of the armchair.” He came around the table to the straight-backed chair conniclooolkksscomn