Spaceship 13 by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb [Tubb, E. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Venture Press
Published: 2016-08-11T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

It was upsetting, shocking in its very unexpectedness and in a vague kind of fashion it was slightly indecent. Men didn’t act like that. Men—real men that is—just didn’t burst into hysterical sobbing for no apparent reason. The Factor swallowed, his big face red with embarrassment and looked helplessly at Jim.

“Got a drink, Max?” Jim didn’t trouble to hide his contempt. He shook the young man by the shoulder. “Snap out of it! What are you, a man or a pansy?”

He waited for an answer his pallid features hardening with disgust. Deliberately he swung his open hand, slapping savagely at the other’s convulsed features. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoed above the sobbing, and slowly the hysteria died away.

Max grunted and lifted an earthenware jug from beneath the counter.

“Have a drink, lad,” he invited kindly. “You’ll feel better soon.”

“Thanks.” Unsteadily Sam lifted the jug and gulped at the contents. He coughed, retched a little, and set the jug down his mouth twisted as from some horrible taste. Jim grinned and reached for the container.

“You make vile liquor, Max. Wait till I get my worm and I’ll show you how to make a real drink.” He tilted the jug and sighed contentedly as he wiped his lips and chin. “How much longer must I wait for it?”

“I don’t know,” snapped the fat man irritably. “These things take time, and don’t call me Max, that isn’t my name.”

“You’re a Factor aren’t you,” Jim said cheerfully, “how else do you expect to be called?” He nodded towards the pile of gleaming buttons. “As our young friend here doesn’t seem to want what you offer, credit them to me. I may want to buy a tablet of soap one day.”

“No!” Sam leaned protectively across the little heap. “They’re mine!”

“Then trade them in,” snapped Jim. “We can’t hang about here all day!”

“Why not?” The fat man pursed thick lips as he opened his book “What else have you got to do, and I can use the company.” He poised a stub of pencil. “What name shall I credit them to?”

“You’re not having them!” The young man seemed on the verge of hysteria again as he glared at the Factor. “I won’t be robbed! I won’t!”

“What the devil?” Angrily the fat man snapped shut his book and thrust at the pile of buttons. They rolled from the counter, bouncing a little as they struck the dirt floor. “I don’t like the way you talk, I’m no thief. Now get out of here, and take them with you.”

“Not until you give me what they’re worth.”

“That’s exactly nothing. Now get out!” He stared at the young man, then stepped back one hand dropping towards his pistol. “Don’t try it,” he warned. “Jim! Tell him to drop his knife.”

“Drop it!” Jim moved with a gleam of white skin as he caught the young man’s arm. He twisted, and Sam cried out in sudden pain the knife falling from his numb fingers. Jim stooped and picked up the gleaming weapon.

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