[Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from Astonishing Stories, June 1942. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Anyone but Webb Fallon would have been worried sick. He was down to his last five dollars and quart of Scotch. His girl Madge had sketched him categorically in vitriol, and married somebody else. His job on the Los Angeles _Observer_ was, like all the jobs he’d ever had, finally, definitely, and for all time, cancelled.…
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