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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Larson's Luck, by Gerald Vance This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Larson's Luck Author: Gerald Vance Illustrator: Robert Fuqua Release Date: November 9, 2009 [EBook #30437] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LARSON'S LUCK *** Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net LARSON'S LUCK by GERALD VANCE Larson couldn't possibly have known what was going on in the engine room, yet he acted.... [Illustration: There would be hell to pay; Larson was stunting again.] "We moor in ten minutes," I said. We were flying at reduced speed because of the heavy fog we had run into at the outer fringe of Earth's atmosphere. But I knew we were within forty or fifty miles of the Trans-Space base. I had counted the miles on this particular trip because of the load of radium we were carrying from the Venusian mines. I wouldn't draw a completely relieved breath until we were down and the stuff was in the hands of the commerce agents. I eased my position slightly to relieve the pressure on my broken flipper and grinned at the pilot, Lucky Larson, the screwiest, most unpredictable void trotter who had ever flown for dear old Trans-Space. "You've been too good to be true this trip," I said, "and it's a good thing. The chief told me that if you so much as _thought_ about clowning around or stunting he was going to clip your wings for good." Lucky grinned, an impish, devil-may-care grin that lightened up his freckled face and bunched the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Then with characteristic abruptness he scowled. "That grandmother," he said disgustedly. "Who does he think I am, anyway? Some crazy irresponsible madman who hasn't got enough brains to stay on a space beam?" "That's just what he does think," I grinned, "and you've given him plenty of reason to think it. You can't bring your crate in to the base without stunting around and showing off and risking your damn neck. That's why he sent me along with you this trip. Just to see that you act like a pilot--instead of circus acrobat." "A lot o
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