Beyond The Yellow Fog
By EMMETT McDOWELL
"It is the little death," they whispered. "When that
yellow mist starts creeping, you'll wish you were
dead, sir." Gavin Murdock, hardened manhunter, coldly
eyed the evil miasma rising through the mystery
spaceship and braced himself for unguessable horror....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Spring 1947.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The Martian sniffed. "Frankly, Mr. Murdock, your account of yourself is laconic to say the least."
Gavin Murdock grunted, his eyes wary and unblinking. He didn't reply.
The Martian raised his eyes from the documents spread on his glassite desk. He gave the sandy-haired Murdock a shrewd penetrating glance and smiled dryly.
"Of course, we get very few men in the slave trade who care to talk about themselves. We take that into consideration, Mr. Murdock. But an astro-engineer of your talents...." He glanced again at the papers on his desk.
Murdock's pulse hammered suddenly in his throat. He swallowed dryly, but he still didn't interrupt.