Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 53 — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

Only very smart thinking could save him from a treacherous CONSPIRACY ost of the time she did the washing up in the kitchen; it was only at the busy times that she helped wait on tables. And sometimes in the evenings when there was not much doing. Larry, the manager, would take Hilda out for a beer, and Gladys, the other waitress, would get her to serve any odd customer who came in. It was a pleasant enough change after the stifling steamy kitchen. She met John that way. Gladys was sitting at a table at the back and she called out to her: “Jenny!’’ She came through, wiping her hands. “See to that one, will you, honey? My feet.”’ He was a hamburger and Frenoh fried. She brought him 43 by JOHN CHRISTOPHER the food and stood waiting. He looked at her, in question. “Seventy-five cents,’ she said. ““With the coffee.” “You mean, I should pay now?” “Rule of the house. I’m sorry.” “That’s O.K. I just didn’t know.” He brought a handful of coins out of his pocket and she watched him fumble among them. He got it right, but he was slow about it. She took the three quarters from him. “You don’t talk like a foreigner,’ she observed. “A foreigner?’? He looked at her casually but quickly. *“Why should 1?” conmcloooks.conm