Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

SLEEVE OF CARE like that. Without rhyme or reason. Hundreds of them every year.” ; “But their papers, their employment cards?” Madge showed her bewilderment. “They just can’t disappear!” ‘They do.” “But why?” “Why?” Sam shrugged. “You're using the wrong word, honey. What’s troubling me, is how?” Silently he led the way up to bed. - The next morning he rose early, and before Tony could come down, had inspected the aquarium and decided to eliminate the sluggish fish. He did it with cold mercy, knowing that it would upset the boy to see it lying dead, and knowing, too, that it was more merciful to kill it than to leave it to suffer. He was wiping his hands when Madge announced that breakfast was ready. He ate quickly, his mind still tearing at the problem of the missing husband, and 59 left the house before Tony had left for school. The day was bright, warm with summer and redolent with the scent of growing things. A good day. The Salvation Army officer was kind, interested, but un- able to tell him more than he knew. Sam leaned back in a chair as he gave the basic data. “As far as I can gather, the missing man is fond of savouries, prefers coffee to tea, likes conservative things, whist, the classics and imaginative literature. The rest you know.” He stared at the elderly man. “How long?” “Before we find him?’ The officer shrugged. ““How can I tell? We may find him in one of our hostels; such things have often happened. Or he may come to us for guidance. In any case I shall notify our people, but frankly, I can offer little immediate hope. Sometimes it takes years to find a missing person.” “‘And sometimes you never find them?” comiclooks.corn