Written by Frank M. Robinson
Beyond the Ultra-Violet
by Frank M. RobinsonYou better take your money back, mister. Thanks a lot but—no thanks. I wasn't panhandling, my hat fell off and I was trying to find it on the sidewalk. Thanks again for finding it for me but I think I could have managed. And, no offense, but I can find my way all right without being led.You're surprised that I'm rather young, huh? Well, youth isn't..
Guaranteed—Forever!
by Frank M. RobinsonClark Street, just north of Chicago's Loop, was the symbol of a million things, all of them bad, Manning thought. Bumpy paving bricks rutted with street car tracks and bordered on both sides by cheap saloons and quarter-a-night flop houses. Hot summer nights when the drunks clustered like flies on the sidewalks and Newberry Park was crowded with cr..
You Don't Walk Alone
by Frank M. RobinsonWhich was a laugh, in a way, because while he wouldn't know what I had been doing, I couldn't help but know what he had been doing. And so would you if I told you his right name. You wouldn't have recognized him, of course. He was the inconspicuous type, the sort of man who blended in so well with his background you would have had to hunt to find h..
Cosmic Saboteur
by Frank M. RobinsonThey jumped him when he was walking past an alley, a couple of blocks from the stockyards on Chicago's brawling South Side. He had gotten off the "El" two stops down because it was a damn fine Spring morning and he liked to walk through the Polish section and watch the city wake up. He was 17 years old and he hadn't grown cynical with the world yet..
Wanted - One Sane Man
by Frank M. RobinsonThey walked into the outer fringes of a whirlpool of noise and bedlam, rivaling that of a stock exchange or a grain pit in the middle of the harvesting season. The room covered more than an acre, with ninety per cent of the floor space devoted to adding machines, typewriters, tabulators, collators, sorters, key punches, automatic alphabetizers and ..