Avon Fantasy Reader No. 13 — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

Cit, ts, 9° = Julius Long, who is a lawyer by profession, is better known as a detective writer than as a fantasy author. (His terrifically exciting thriller, “Murder in Her Big Blue Eyes” was recently published by Avon.) About a dozen or so good weird stories were written and sold by Mr. Long quite early in his avocational writing career —for like so many, fantasy is a labor of love, other writing, a labor . for profit. “He Walked By Day” is an unusual sort of ghost story— the story of one of the most constructive ghosts ever—a story that is somewhat reminiscent of the style of Ray Bradbury. ems” RIEDENBURG, OHIO, sleeps between the muddy waters of the Miami River and the rusty track ofa little-used spur of the Big Four. It sud- denly became important to us because of its strategic position. It bisected a road which we were to surface with tar. The materials were to come by way of the spur and to be unloaded at the tiny yard. | _ We began work on a Monday morning. I was watching the tar dis- tributer while it pumped tar from the car, when I felt a tap upon my back. I turned about, and when I beheld the individual who had tapped me, I ac- tually jumped. I have never, before or since, encountered such a singular figure. He was at least seven feet tall, and he seemed even taller than that because of the uncommon slenderness of his frame. He looked as if he had never been warnied by the rays of the sun, but confined all his life in a dank and dismal cellar. 1 concluded that he had been the prey of some insidious, etiolating disease. Certainly, I thought, nothing else could account for his ashen com- plexion. It seemed that not blood, but shadows passed through his veins. “Do you want to see me?” I asked, “Are you the road feller?” eyes.” | “I want a job. My mother’s sick. I have her to keep. Won't you please give me a job?” | We really didn’t need another man, but I was interested in this pallid giant with his staring, gray eyes. I called to Juggy, my foreman. “Do you think we can find a place for this fellow?” I asked. Juggy stared incredulously. “He looks like he’d break in two.” “Tm stronger’n anyone,” said the youth. . He looked about, and his eyes fell on the Mack, which had just been loaded | 63 | Oo 4 -comicboo ks! 8 FUttsp ec orRnr Tw - + www Changes Everything New San Antonio Rose. Gene Autry: a * j Pie Sate er B-2805 Mexicali Roce © Tumbling Timbiawence -«¢ B-2520 (e(o) poogie pives = Let Me Off Uptown * Opus No. 1 ° That's What You Think