Mason snorted. "Well, what's the use of hanging around here?" he asked.
"That Connel wouldn't have us aboard the _Polaris_, even if we were
cleared and had our papers. There ain't a thing we can do!"

"Don't give up so easy. There's a fortune setting up there in
space--just waiting for me and you to come and take it. And no big-shot
Solar Guard officer is going to keep me from getting it!"

"Yeah--yeah," grumbled Mason, "but what are you going to do about it?"

"I'll show you what I'm going to do!" said Loring. "We're heading for
Venusport."

"Venusport? By the moons of Jupiter, what are we going to do there?"

"Get a free ride to Tara!"

"But how? I only got a few hundred credits and you ain't got much more.
There ain't nobody going to go fifty billion miles on nothing!"

Loring's eyes followed the massive figure of Major Connel on the
slidewalk as it swept across the spaceport field toward the _Polaris_.
"You just buy us a coupla seats on the next rocket to Venusport and stop
asking stupid questions. When we see Major 'Blast-off' Connel again,
we'll be giving the orders with a paralo-ray!"

The two disgruntled spacemen turned quickly and walked to the nearest
slidewalk, disappearing around a building.

Aboard the _Polaris_, Tom confronted his two unit-mates.

"Now look, fellows. After the hard time Major Connel just gave us, let's
see if we can't really stay on the ball from now on."

"All right by me, Tom," Astro said, nodding his head.

"You're having space dreams, Corbett!" drawled Roger. "No matter what we
do for old 'Blast-off' we'll wind up behind the eight ball."

"But if we really try," urged Tom, "if we all do our jobs, there can't
be anything for him to fuss about."

"We'll make it tough for him to give us any demerits," Astro chimed in.

"Right," said Tom.

"It won't work," grumbled Roger. "You saw the way he chewed us up, and
for what? I ask you--for what?"

"He was just trying to live up to his reputation, Roger," replied Tom.
"But common sense will tell you that if you're on the ball you won't get
demerits."

"What's the matter, hot-shot?" growled Astro. "Afraid of a little work?"

"Listen, you Venusian clunk," sneered Roger, "I'll work the pants off
you any day in the week, and that includes Titan days, too!"

"O.K." Tom smiled. "Save half of that energy for the _Polaris_, Roger."

"Yeah, use some of that Manning hot air to shine brass!" suggested
Astro.

"Come on. Let's ge