Frank Freeman

“ Granger forced open his aching eyes and squinted in the direction of the fiery blast, but the doorway was empty. The commander was still there, though, walking slowly to the door.
Why am I alive? Granger asked himself incredulously. Or am I dead? He bumped his fist against his forehead once or twice and gave his head a vigorous shake. Suddenly, he turned his gaze to the cage. But he saw nothing that resembled the rebuilt packing crate; only a mound of ashes and twisted spikes. ”

“ In the center of the heap, like a fat, dwarfish king astride his fallen kingdom, was the charred, blackened shell of the grotesque creature that had once occupied the wooden cell.
Then he moved cautiously toward the door and stared, speechless, at the leader of the expedition.
"We shall depart now," said the being. "Thank you for helping us." ”

“ After a couple of nervous fumbles with a match, he lit a cigarette and glanced uneasily out the one window in the rough cabin. What if the alien, or whatever it was, wasn't kidding about the danger he was in? What if his buddies did decide to come back before morning with the extermination of a human on their minds? Think of it, Granger, he told himself laconically, you'd be a hero! A nice, cold, dead one. And they'd never find the bunch who'd have knocked him off. ”