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Mother America - Sam McClatchie
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mother America, by Sam McClatchie
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.net
Title: Mother America
Author: Sam McClatchie
Illustrator: Dan Adkins
Release Date: August 3, 2008 [EBook #26180]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTHER AMERICA ***
Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
When a country is as champion-conscious as America, it's surprising that no one has yet developed the ultimate contest. Dr. McClatchie, whose recent novel, The Last Vial,
established him as a top-ranking sf writer, now tells us the engaging story of the geneticists' search for ...
Mother America
By SAM McCLATCHIE, M.D.
Illustrated by ADKINS
The tall young man faded back quickly, poised for an instant and then threw a long high pass. The crowd came up roaring. Twenty yards from the goal line a smaller, sturdier player swerved quickly around the end and took the pass in his stride. With a beautiful curving run he tricked the fullback, crossed the line and then, showing no sign of effort, trotted back up the field and threw the ball to the umpire.
Wonderful! What a magnificent runner that lad is! You're lucky to have him, George.
The speaker, a trimly built, athletic man in his middle forties turned to his companion, talking loudly above the buzz of the crowd.
George Turner nodded agreement. We are. Every other University in the States was after him. He's the first Boy America you know. We've been watching him for years.
The first Boy America?
John Harmon echoed in surprise. I didn't know that. You did say Boy America ... not All American?
He's both; All American in football and a Boy America too.
The gun signalled the end of the game and the two men rose from their box seats to go out. Directly below them the players trotted quickly towards the dressing rooms. Harmon leaned over to watch.
There he is now. A fine-looking boy too!
He studied the young man's face intently. Y'know he reminds me of somebody ... somebody I know well, but I can't put my finger on it.
"I'm