ng to one
side, looked confused.

"Sure we know what we've done," declared Tom. "We found this guy in here
copying secrets from some blueprints there on the desk and--"

"Copying secrets!" screamed Rush. "Why, you ding-blasted idiots, that's
Dave Barret, the supervisor of this whole project!"

The man on the floor stirred and Firehouse ordered the squad of enlisted
men to help him up. Just then, there was a bellow of rage from the
hatch. Major Connel stepped into the compartment, his face a mask of
disgust and anger.

"By the rings of Saturn!" he roared. "I've been sitting in the
laboratory for the last hour and a half waiting for Dave Barret to come
back with vital information, so we could get on with our experiments,
and I find that you--you--" Connel was so furious, he could hardly talk.

He faced the three cadets. "There isn't anything in the books that says
you should be disciplined for this--this--outrage, but believe me,
Cadets"--his voice sounded like thunder in the small compartment--"this
is the very last time I'll stand for this kind of stupidity."

Tom gulped but stepped forward bravely. "Sir," he said clearly, "I would
like respectfully to submit the facts for the major's honest
consideration. Neither of us has ever seen this man before and we found
him copying information from these blueprints. When I challenged him,
he said he was going to show us his identification. He put his hands in
his jacket to get it, but Roger saw a gun in his belt, and thinking he
was going to use it, Roger hit him on the head." Tom stopped, clamped
his mouth shut, and stared the major in the eye. "That's all, sir."

Connel returned the stare, his eyes meeting those of the cadet for a
full half minute. "All right," he said finally. "I guess it's just a
case of misjudgment. But," he added scathingly, "in the face of the
_Polaris_ unit's record, you can understand my initial opinion."

As Dave Barret was assisted from the ship by the guards, Connel turned
to Rush. "Firehouse!" he barked.

"Yes, sir?"

"See that these cadets don't cause any more mischief."

"Yes, _sir_."

"Dismissed," snapped Connel.

"All right, you space brats," bellowed Rush, "back to your patrol!"

Tom, Roger, and Astro left the ship and returned to their posts outside
the hangar. Just before they separated to resume their endless march
around the hangar, Tom winked at his unit mates. "At least we didn't get
demerits," he said.

"Only because