The Haunted Corpse

Countdown for blast off. X-5, 4, 3, 2, X-1, Fire. Far Horizons of the unknown comtales of new dimensions in time and space. These are stories of the future.

Adventures in which you'll live in a million could be years on a thousand maybe worlds. The National Broadcasting Company presents One Want W The Haunted Corpse by Frederick Paul It was 22 hundred hours when my task force of 135 picked men and a waxed anographer all fully equipped for any emergency surrounded the Big House

just as I stepped out of my Jeep the old boy himself came storming out of the house with fire in his eye While he was still ranting and raving, I gave him a soft salute and waited for him to fill in.

Oh, I'm gat, the whole bunch of you. This is private property and you're trespassing. I won't have it, you're here. Now go on. Get out. I'm Colonel Windamier, sir. My orders are to establish a security court and around your laboratories.

Here you are, Dr. Horns. Your copy of the orders. You can take those orders. Say, say, who put you up to this? I know, Ben Pelt. Why, that rotten, overstuffed, backstabbing monster of the city.

Dr. Horn. Oh, I know, unpelled. I ought to. He worked as my associate for years. But that doesn't give him the right to turn traitor and go running off to the Pentagon with a story about the Horn effect.

Excuse me, Dr. Horn. The general asked me to give you his personal assurance that my men will not in any way interfere with your work here. It's just a matter of security. Security. Now, listen to your lieutenant.