Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 65 — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

THE ROOM fed up, lashed out with his fists at this monstrosity who dared to touch the Princess. This brought quick reprisals. He was kicked, scratched, bitten and otherwise mauled until he ached all over. Soon he had no strength left for fighting. He was slung like a sack of rubbish onto the floor and there he lay gasping. Duvane was allowed to reach his side. “How are we going to escape ?”’ Bill whispered. “I don’t know,”’ sighed the Princess. “‘One would have to be a good magician to break out of here.”’ “We should have brought ~ one,” commented Bill drily. He _ racked his brains, thinking of one scheme after another. Then he had an idea—it seemed real good to him. “Listen, Duvane,” he said, eagerly. “You must cling tightly to me and ask no questions. Don’t let go of me whatever happens. Un- derstand ?” “Yes, all right, I’li do that,”’ she said. They held each other tightly as Bill concentrated as hard as he knew how on a mental SOS to Phillman. Sweat began to pour down his face. It wasn’t going to work, but it had to, it must work! The lines stood out on his fore- head, his temples throbbed... Suddenly, he felt a jerk, a swirling through a grey mist and a bump as he reached the safety of the doctor’s couch. He had succeeded— and he felt Duvane’s body clinging to his. “What have we here?” asked Philiman. “‘A gift for the doctor?” He chuckled. Despite his anguish of mind, Bill laughed. *‘Meet the Prin- cess Duvane of Marnia,”’ he announced. The doctor’s head bobbed. He held out his hands. “I’m very happy to meet you, Princess.” She smiled wearily and grasped his hands. “I have heard about your work, Doc- tor Phillman,”’ she said. “I do hope that something can be done which will allow it to continue. And now may we rest?” “But, of course,” cried Phillman. ““You must both be 113 comiclbooks.corn