officer, he had resigned from
the great military organization to go into private space-freight
business. Though a newcomer, with only a small outfit, he was well liked
and respected by every man in the room. And everyone present knew that
when he spoke, he would have something important to say, or at least
advance a point that should be brought to light.

"I have no doubt," said Barnard in a slow, positive manner, "that the
decision to substitute a space race between us as a means of awarding
the contract was well considered by the Solar Council." He turned and
shot Brett a flinty look. "And under the circumstances, I, for one,
accept their decision." He sat down abruptly.

There were cries of: "Hear! Hear!" "Righto!" "Very good!"

"No!" shouted Brett, leaping to his feet. "By the craters of Luna, it
isn't right! I demand to know exactly who submitted the lowest bid!"

Walters sighed and shuffled through several papers on his desk. "You are
within your rights, Mr. Brett," he said, eying the man speculatively.
"It was you."

[Illustration]

"Then why in blue blazes didn't I get the contract?" screamed Brett.

"For several reasons," replied Walters. "Your contract offered us the
lowest bid in terms of money, but specified very slow schedules. On the
other hand, Universal Spaceways Limited planned faster schedules, but
at a higher cost. Kit Barnard outbid both of you in money and schedules,
but he has only two ships, and we were doubtful of his ability to
complete the contract should one of his ships crack up. The other
companies offered, more or less, the same conditions. So you can
understand our decision now, Mr. Brett." Walters paused and glared at
the man. "The Solar Council sat in a continuous forty-eight-hour session
and considered _everyone_. The space race was finally decided on, and
voted for by every member. Schedules were the most vital point under
consideration. But other points could not be ignored, and these could
only be determined by actual performance. Now, does that answer all your
questions, Mr. Brett?"

"No, it doesn't!" yelled Brett.

"Oh, sit down, Brett!" shouted a voice from the back of the room.

"Yes! Sit down and shut up!" called another. "We're in this too, you
know!"

Brett turned on them angrily, but finally sat down, scowling.

In the rear of the room Tom nudged Roger. "Boy! The commander sure knows
how to lay it on the line when he wants to, doesn't he?"

"I'll say!" replie