Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

THE CREEP trying desperately to enlarge the opening he had made. Lena took Sam’s arm.“*Who is it?’ she asked. “It’s not Santa Claus.” “Is it—them? Harry’s crowd?” ““‘Who else? Let’s get across to the door. We can surprise them there.” ““No, Sam. That’s asking for trouble. If we stay put and don’t resist, maybe they won’t do anything to us.” The sunlight was making its reappearance. It came and went, came and went. Each time it splashed into the bar, the hole at the door was bigger and the shaft of light was wider. ““We’re dead ducks any- how,” gritted Sam. “The Creep must be pouring into this place. They’re not going to watch me die slowly.”’ He snuffed the candle and pulled Lena with him towards the doorway. They stopped within six feet of it when they saw a hand curl into the hole and grasp a zigzag block of 123 bricks. With its protective gauntlet the hand was big as a boxing glove. As silently as possible they crept into the corner of the bar, between the end of the counter and the doorway. There was a loud grating noise and the block of mor- tared bricks swivelled out of the sandwich of wood and cement. As if a keystone had been removed, the complete doorway collapsed in a grind- ing, thundering rumble and the bar was bright with day- light. Unable to see outside from their position, Sam and Lena looked at the shadows on the floor. One edge of the pool of sunlight was jagged with the intrusion of the side of the broken wall. The other edge was clean, a straight line at first sight, but the arc of a great circle on longer examina- tion. In the centre of the pool was the shadow of a big, mis-shapen figure. The shadow was motionless for a moment, legs wide apart in imitation of the figure in the comicloooks.com