ared: "You fool little runt!" he bellowed. "Tryin' to give
us credit for that! You got more sense than any of us! You worked that
out in your own head----"

Haney rubbed his hands together. He said softly, "I like that! I do like
that!"

Major Holt turned his eyes to Joe. "What's your opinion?"

"I think it's the sort of thing, sir, that a professional engineer would
say was a good idea but not practical. He'd mean it would be a lot of
trouble to get working. But I'd like to ask my father. They have done
powder welding at the plant back home, sir."

Major Holt nodded. "Call your father. If it looks promising, I'll pull
what wires I can."

Joe went out, with the others. Mike was sweating. All unconsciously, he
twisted his hands one within the other. He had had many humiliations
because he was small, but lately he had humiliated himself by not
believing in his friends. Now he needed desperately to do something that
would reflect credit on them as well as himself.

Joe made the phone call. As he closed the door of the booth, he heard
the Chief kidding Mike blandly.

"Hey, Einstein," said the Chief. "How about putting that brain of yours
to work on a faster-than-light drive?"

But then he began to struggle with the long distance operator. It took
minutes to get the plant, and then it took time to get to the point,
because his father insisted on asking anxiously how he was and if he was
hurt in any way. Personal stuff. But Joe finally managed to explain that
this call dealt with the desperate need to do something about a space
fleet.

His father said grimly, "Yes. The situation doesn't look too good right
now, Joe."

"Try this on for size, sir," said Joe. He outlined Mike's scheme. His
father interrupted only to ask crisp questions about the mockup of the
tender, already in existence though made of wood. Then he said, "Go on,
son!"

Joe finished. He heard his father speaking to someone away from the
phone. Questions and answers, and then orders. His father spoke to him
direct.

"It looks promising, Joe," said his father. "Right here at the plant
we've got the gang that can do it if anybody can. I'm getting a plane
and coming out there, fast! Get Major Holt to clear things for me. This
is no time for red tape! If he has trouble, I'll pull some wires
myself!"

"Then I can tell Mike it's good stuff?"

"It's not good stuff," said his father. "There are about forty-seven
things wrong with it at first glance, b