Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

It’s important to make a good _ First Impression by FRANK WINNARD T RESTED IN A TINY VALLEY, | smooth, rounded, sleek and glinting a little in the light of the afternoon sun. It looked a little like a soup tureen, an inverted pie dish, a flattened hemisphere of greyish metal. It looked like a flying saucer. George made a sound be- tween a grunt and a whinny, stepped back hard on Fred’s instep, and began to run back down the narrow path they had been following. Fred, despite the pain in his foot, managed to catch him before he had gone a hundred yards. ‘“‘What’s the matter?’ he snapped. ““Why are you run- ning Y a ‘That thing.’’ George jerked his thumb back towards the valley. “It wasn’t there yesterday.” ‘That proves it.” **Proves what ?” “That it’s a flying saucer.” “*That,”’ said George grimly, “is what I already figured.” He made as if to run down the 99 path again, then halted as Fred grabbed hisarm. _ *‘Wait a minute!” Fred, his unshaven face intent beneath his three-day stubble, dug his fingers into his companion’s arm. ““Take it easy. Can’t you see what a chance this is?” George jerked at his arm. He was about twice as big as Fred, so for him it was easy. Aside from his extra size, he and the smaller man looked exactly alike in their tattered clothing and stubbled chins. Hobos, or Gentlemen of the Road, as Fred insisted they call themselves, had much in common. “Hold it,’ pleaded Fred, as George headed down the path. “‘This thing could make us both rich.” “‘Rich!”’ George came back. *“How T “Simple.” Fred frowned as he tried to remember what he had read on the subject. As his reading was confined solely to the luridly illustrated Sunday Supplements of the conmmicloooks.conn