_Painted in Water-Colors from a Scene in "The Tentacles from Below."_
WEREWOLVES OF WAR D. W. HALL 153
_The Story of the "Torpedo Plan" and of Capt. Lance's Heroic Part in
America's Last Mighty Battle with the United Slavs._
THE TENTACLES FROM BELOW ANTHONY GILMORE 172
_Down to Tremendous Ocean Depths Goes Commander Keith Wells in His
Blind Duel with the Marauding "Machine-Fish."_
(A Complete Novelette.)
THE BLACK LAMP CAPTAIN S. P. MEEK 212
_Dr. Bird and His Friend Carnes Unravel Another Criminal Web of
PHALANXES OF ATLANS F. V. W. MASON 228
_Only in Dim Legends Did Mankind Remember Atlantis and the
Lost Tribes--Until Victor Nelson's Extraordinary Adventure
in the Unknown Arctic._ (Beginning a Two-Part Novel.)
THE PIRATE PLANET CHARLES W. DIFFIN 261
_From Earth and Sub-Venus Converge a Titanic Offensive of Justice
on the Unspeakable Man-Things of Torg._ (Conclusion.)
THE READERS' CORNER ALL OF US 277
_A Meeting Place for Readers of_ ASTOUNDING STORIES.
Single Copies, 20 Cents (In Canada, 25 Cents) Yearly Subscription,
Issued monthly by Readers' Guild, Inc., 80 Lafayette Street, New York,
N. Y. W. M. Clayton, President; Francis P. Pace, Secretary. Entered as
second-class matter December 7, 1929, at the Post Office at New York,
N. Y., under Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered as a Trade Mark in
the U. S. Patent Office. Member Newsstand Group--Men's List. For
advertising rates address E. R. Crowe & Co., Inc., 25 Vanderbilt Ave.,
New York; or 225 North Michigan Ave., Chicago.
* * * * *
Werewolves of War
_By D. W. Hall_
[Illustration: _"Hay crosses the gulf, taking with him the cord which
controls the electro-magnet."_ ]
[Sidenote: The story of the "Torpedo Plan" and of Capt. Lance's heroic
part in America's last mighty battle with the United Slavs.]
But this time, Lance swore, they'd not get away without paying dearly
Under the mesh of his gas-mask the lean lines of his jaw went taut.
Tense, steely fingers flipped to the knobbed control instruments; the
gleaming single-seater scout plane catapulted in a screaming
somersault. Lance's ever-wary sixth sense told him the tongues of
disintegrating flame had licked the plane's protected belly, and for
the fact that it was protected he thanked again his stupendous luck.
He pulled savagely at the squat control stick; the four Rahl-Diesels
unleashed a torrent of power; and the slim scout rose like a comet,
and hurtled, the altitude dial's nervous finger proclaimed, to ten
thousand feet. Lance eased off the power, relaxed slightly, and
They'd started off a squadron of fifteen planes. Thirteen had crumpled
beneath that treacherous, stabbing curtain of disintegrating flame.
Only two of them were left--he and Praed.
Praed, of course!
The fellow's plane was pirouetting nearby. Lance was the squadron
leader. He jammed his thin-lipped mouth close to the "mike" and
"They trapped us again! There's some damn spy at our base. Stand by,
Praed! They'll send up a few men to wipe us out, too ... and we're
goin' to square the account!"
He listened for Praed's answer. Presently it came.
"I can't! They got two of my motors. I'm limping badly. We'd better
beat it while we can."
Lance's mouth curled. He roared:
"Go on, then, beat it! But I'm goin' to take a couple of 'em, anyway."
Disgusted, filled with red anger, he flung the phones from his head,
watched Praed's plane whirl its stubby nose for home, settled himself
alertly in the low, padded seat and concentrated his attention on the
He'd been right. Tiny, gray-clad figures were pouring from their
barracks, rushing madly towards the dozen or so planes neatly drawn up
on the field. Lance's mouth twitched. They probably wondered, down
there, why the devil he didn't beat it--like Praed! He stroked the
lever which controlled his five gas bombs, centered his battery of
incendiary-bullet machine-guns and ruthlessly shoved the control stick