Avon Fantasy Reader No. 12 — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

dren. There were thousands of them. Like automatons each leaned forward at his task. Dynamos and power engines, placed in floors beneath the level, pulsed into life and the conveyor belts moved on, The place was a roaring factory in full blast. Giant cranes screeched along, carrying in their tron hands heavy machines which were placed in pemnas by the waiting workmen. Long lines of coarsely clad men and women stood by the conveyors, each with his or her task. Some of the men handled the delicate tools. Others, the women and the children, did nothing but watch and sometimes help when a moving mass of machines on the belt rumbled and shook as it rolled on a bumpy part of the conveyor. Immediately they would run to it, push it back upon the belt and then go back to their position, their eyes intent again upon the older men and the older women who handled the drills and who placed the parts in position. The three walked along the conveyor ‘belts, surprised that no one stopped them to ask who they were and what they were doing here. They ignored the monotonous y droning voice that roared above them, seeming to come from microphones hidden in the roof. Slowly Millet, Weaver and ohnson began to get the complete pic- ture of the strange factory. Huge boxes were brought in from the out- side, obviously from the second factory, and were unpacked. The machinery antl parts were assorted and distributed. Motors were sent to one place, girders, wires, steel plates and glass to other places. The trio followed the distribution from one eud to another. By the time they reached the center of the plant they realized what was being made. At the end of the factory, ready to be rolled out, they saw it. In the center of the huge, open, unrolled door, final finishing touches being placed upon its wings, stood a giant bomber. “Warplanes!” Millet shouted to Weaver, trying to make himself heard aos the din of the factory, “Giant warplanes!” “Why hasn’t anyone stopped us?” Weaver asked as they strolled under the wings of the bomber and out into the open air, “Nobody even looked at us while we walked through the whole plant!” “Suppose they're too busy,” Johnson grunted. “Did you see the children?” Weaver asked again. “Even children! What a factory! It’s like a tomb!” “Efficient though, isn’t it?” Millet smiled, “They’re getting the bomb- ers out fast enough. Let's see where they take them.” They watched a crew of men roll the bomber out of the hangar-like opening. They pushed it half-way to the open field and then left it there. Another crew, coming from the second factory, marched to it - and theu rolled it on—to the second plant. The three men followed. Once they were inside the second plant with the bomber they saw a strange sight. The finished bomber was rolled on to the center of a scaffold-like structure and the careful work of disassembling and tak- 120 comicbooks.com