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                             Summer Guests

                          By JAMES H. SCHMITZ

                _No birds were these, and surely not of
               a feather, and there was no need to tell
               Mel by the company he kept--it told him!_

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
             Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1959.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


All through that Saturday night, rain drummed down mercilessly and
unseasonably on Sweetwater Beach. Thunder pealed and lightning flared.
In between, Mel Armstrong heard the steady boom of the Pacific surf not
a block from his snug little duplex apartment. Mel didn't mind any of
it. He was in bed, slightly swacked and wholly comfortable. He dozed,
and now and then woke up f