Haikus from Astounding Stories of Super-Science, June, 1930 by Various

From a book categorized as and 574 pages follows a description and a number of hidden haikus found in the book:

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He reached for a check
 book in his inner pocket
and began to write.

The bunk was empty
 where the blankets had been thrown
hurriedly aside.

asked the officer,
 and Thorpe gave his position
as he had checked it.

I will be safe through
 the day, and besides, the beast
has gutted this ship.

He tried the wireless
 and got an instant response
from the destroyer.

Warn them--" His frantic,
 hissing dots and dashes died

I don't have to pull
 the trigger at all--just let
go and they'll go off.

Almost on his words
 the gray mist out the cabin
windows seemed to flame.

Every republic
 has some fiend at work in it.
And they're organized.

There was a movement
 at the edge of the jungle
and a puff of smoke.

She smiled up at him.
 "But they didn't." "No.... God loves
the Irish," said Bell.

These two were humans.
 At least, they were in man-form,
if not in feeling.

He cried out, stepped back,
 throwing up his arms as death
flashed through his body.

His torch fell hissing
 with a silent rain of blue
fire upon the rocks.

"They'd know the Martians
 would be more likely to get
the signal than us.

We huddled, pulling
 the shields up and over us.
Blurred darkness again.

Six of the peons
 have disappeared--they didn't
run away, either.

The blind Portuguese
 was armed, too, but he was not
clad in the black suit.

The shambles was not
 yet over, but the four could
remain no longer.

Jerry considered
 the wild figure carefully.
"He's a nut," he thought.

"And this," he added,
 exhibiting another
that was colorless.

These smaller exhausts
 go above and below--right
and left at the bow.

Beyond it the sun
 was blaring, a hard outlined
disc in the black sky.

The ground that they crossed
 so recklessly was a vast
honeycomb of caves.

"We can't go back. "Say,"
 he demanded, with sudden,
dim recollection.

He came to his knees,
 then up, to hold the writhing
figure at arm's length.

* * * * * Spent and exhausted,
 Jerry Foster lay panting
upon the stone floor.

The only trouble
 with it is that it doesn't
have enough stories.