The Terror Out of Space

by Dwight V. Swain

"Damn him—!" This in tight fury from Krobis. "He can't cheat me this way! I won't let him!" Shoes slithered on the flooring. "Quick! Help me!"

Hands lifted Boone. A knife hacked at the cloth noose.

The fabric ripped through at last. Still limp of limb, head lolling, Boone let himself be lowered to the bunk.

Then Krobis' voice rang close beside him: "This noose—! There's something funny—"

Stubby fingers tugged apart the double loops.

Boone slumped sidewise, away from Krobis, so that the other was strained far forward and off balance.

Then, in one swift, convulsive movement, he drove his elbow deep into his enemy's unprotected midriff.

The wind went out of the base director's lungs in a gust. He bent double ... hung tottering, face shock-contorted.

Twisting, Boone whipped his hand up ... chopped down with all his might on the back of Krobis' neck.

Krobis slammed forward on his face on the floor.