Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 46 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

SAVIOUR Harry’s mother or anyone about the very strange way in which he’d come to know of the cave-in and of Harry’s being trapped. Some oddly warning sense had prompted him to say as little about it as possible. And his mother had never mentioned the matter afterwards, either, which had been just as weil for him. Probably she’d been afraid to tell anyone about it for fear of being laughed at—or for fear that people might believe her and start to spread the tale that Patrick Vane was different from normal children—from which idea another, far more unpleasant, might spring so very easily: that Patrick Vane was different from human children. He’d told Harry about it when the boy had come out of hospital, months afterwards, with his broken leg and his other injuries all mended. They'd tried to repeat the “‘feeling-sending” again, too, but they’d never been very successful with it when they’d really been consciously trying to do it. And there hadn’t been much time, either, for such things, because soon after Harry came out of hospital his father had had his job changed and the Lakes were forced to moveto another level. 2/ And now Harry Lake was dead. Dead because he was— different. Am I as “different” as _ Harry was? Patrick wondered, under the watchful eyes of the three black-garbed men. Perhaps he was. Perhaps he was even more ‘“‘different.” After all, it wasn’t as if the tunnel affair had been the only incident pointing to his pecu- liar abilities. It had simply been one of many such oc- currences that, strangely enough, had never seemed ail that important at the time. He’d grown accustomed to thinking himself odd and a bit apart from most of his school- friends and, whenever some- thing funny had happened to him, he’d just accepted it as yet another indication that he was—well, that he was different. And always, whenever any- thing happened, there had been that warning voice inside his head that had told him, whisperingly, that it would not be good to tell people, that it would be better by far to keep silent and let them think him just a normal person with nothing strange, nothing strange at all, to his character. It hadn’t been the fear of having them disbelieve him and laugh at him, either, that comiclooks.corn