Page:Amazing Stories Volume 16 Number 06.djvu/153



T WAS during the stopover of the F.S.S. Western Hemisphere, our space battlewagon and pride of the Federation Fleet, in the big space harbor base on Saturn, that my ape-like companion and hare brained associate, Sergeant Shane, weathered one of the wildest and wooliest escapades in his long and lucky career—and when I say lucky, I mean very fortunate!

And it was on a bright and shining morning of that stopover, that Shane found me trying to catch a little sleep on the third atomic gun deck and promptly put an end to all such hopes.

"Corporal Cork," Shane declared in that saw-tooth voice of his, "this is a positively disgraceful posture I find you in."

I had been stretched out flat on my