th plastic."

"Finished is right!" snarled Loring. "I told you to keep an eye on them!
If they'd nabbed us we woulda wound up on the prison asteroid!"

"Loring," shouted Mason, "look!" He pointed a trembling finger at the
thrust indicator. "We're blasting at full space speed--right for the
station!"

"By the rings of Saturn," cried Loring, "I must've jammed the thrust
when I yanked the lever out of the control board!"

"Put it back! Slow this ship down!" cried Mason, his face ashen with
fear. Loring jumped to the control board and with trembling fingers
tried to replace the lever in the socket.

"I can't--can't--" he panted. "We gotta pile outta here! We're heading
for the station. We'll crash!"

"Come on! This way! We left the space helmets back in the cargo hold!"
shouted Mason. He ran toward the open hatch leading to the companionway.
Suddenly he stopped. "Hey, what about those two guys?"

"Never mind them!" shouted Loring. "Keep going. We can't do anything for
them now!"

And as the two men raced toward the stern, the freighter, her powerful
rockets wide open, arrowed straight toward the gleaming white structure
of the space station.

"It was easy, honey," cooed Roger into the microphone on the main
control panel of the space-station radar bridge.

"I switched the frequency on the station, beamed to a teleceiver trunk
line on Earth, and called you up, my little space pet! Smart, huh? Now
remember we have a date as soon as I get back from this important and
secret mission. I could've got out of it, but they needed me badly. As
much as I like you, baby, I had to go along to give the boys a break and
..."

"_Cadet Manning!_" An infuriated roar echoed in the small chamber.

"Yeah, whaddaya wan--" growled Roger, turning to see who had interrupted
him. He suddenly gulped and turned pale. "Ohhhhhhhhh--good-by, baby!" He
flipped the switch and stood up.

"Uh--ah--good morning, Major Connel," he stammered.

"What's going on here, Manning?" barked Connel.

"I--was--talking, sir," replied Roger.

"So I heard! But talking to whom?"

"To whom, sir?"

"That's what I said, Manning." Connel's voice dropped to a deep
sarcastic purr. "To whom?"

"I was--ah--talking to Earth, sir."

"Official business, I presume?"

"You mean--official--like here on the station, sir?"

"Official, like here on the station, Manning," replied Connel in almost
a kindly tone.

"No, sir."

"You failed to make your quarter-h