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office to inquire when a story might appear, or when a check might, but 1 don't recall ever
having found him in. In fact, to this day I have never, to my knowledge, met him.
Ring Around the Sun
Jimmy Turner was humming merrily, if a bit raucously, when he entered the reception room.
"Is Old Sourpuss in?" he asked, accompanying the question with a wink at which the pretty
secretary blushed gratefully.
"He is; and waiting for you." She motioned him towards the door on which was written in fat,
black letters, "Frank McCutcheon, General Manager, United Space Mail."
Jim entered. "Hello, Skipper, what now?"
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"Oh, it's you, is it?" McCutcheon looked up from his desk, champing a foul-smelling stogie.
"Sit down."
McCutcheon stared at him from under bushy gray eyebrows. "Old Sourpuss," as he was
euphoniously known to all mem- bers of United Space Mail, had never been known to laugh
within the memory of the oldest inmate, though rumor did have it that when a child he had
smiled at the sight of his father falling out of an apple-tree. Right now his expression made
the rumor appear exaggerated.
"Now, listen. Turner," he barked, "United Space Mail is inaugurating a new service and
you're elected to blaze the trail." Disregarding Jimmy's grimace, he continued, "From now
on the Venerian mail is on an all-year-round basis."
"What! I've always thought that it was ruinous from a fi- nancial standpoint to deliver the
Venerian. mail except when it was this side of the Sun."
"Sure," admitted McCuteheon, "if we follow the ordinary routes. But we might cut straight
across the system if we could only get near enough to the sun. That's where you come in!
They've put out a new ship equipped to approach within twenty million miles of the sun and
which will be able to remain at that distance indefinitely."
Jimmy interrupted nervously, "Wait a while, S Mr. Mc- Cutcheon, I don't quite follow. What
kind of a ship is this?"
"How do you expect me to know? I'm no fugitive from a laboratory. From what they tell me, it
emits some kind of a field that bends the radiations of the sun around the ship. Get it? It's all
deflected. No heat reaches you. You can stay there forever and be cooler than in New York."
"Oh, is that so?" Jimmy was skeptical. "Has it been tested, or is that a little detail that has
been left for me?"
"It's been tested, of course, but not under actual solar con- ditions."
'Then it's out. I've done plenty for United, but this is the limit. I'm not crazy, yet."
McCutcheon stiffened. "Must I recall the oath you took upon entering the service. Turner?
'Our flight through space ' "
"' must ne'er be stopped by anything save death,'" fin- ished Jimmy. "I know that as well as
you do and I also notice that it's very easy to quote that from a comfortable armchair. If you're
that idealistic, you can do it yourself. It's still out, as far as I'm concerned. And if you want,
you can kick me out. I can get other jobs just like that," he snapped his fingers airily.
McCutcheon's voice dropped to a silky whisper. "Now, now. Turner, don't be hasty. You
haven't heard all I have to say yet. Roy Snead is to be your mate."
"Huh! Snead! Why, that four-flusher wouldn't have the guts to take a job like this in a million
years. Tell me some other fairy tale."
"Well, as a matter of fact, he has already accepted. I thought you might accompany him, but
I guess he was right. He insisted you'd back down. I thought at first you wouldn't."
McCutcheon waved him away and bent his eyes uncon- cernedly on the report he had been
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scrutinizing at the time of Jimmy's entrance. Jimmy wheeled, hesitated, then returned.
"Wait a while, Mr. McCutcheon; do you mean to say that Roy is actually going?"
McCutcheon nodded, still apparently absorbed in other matters, and Jimmy exploded, "Why,
that low-down, spindle-shanked, dish-faced mug! So he thinks I'm too yellow to go! Well, I'll
show him. I'll take the job and I'll put up ten dollars to a Venerian nickel that he gets sick at
the last minute."
"Good!" McCutcheon rose and shook hands, "I thought you'd see reason. Major Wade has
all the details. I think you leave in about six weeks and as I'm leaving for Venus tomor- row,
you'll probably meet me there."
Jimmy left, still boiling, and McCutcheon buzzed for the secretary. "Oh, Miss Wilson, get
Roy Snead on the 'visor."
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