You--take--big--fellow.
I'll--charge--gun ..."
"Can't you figure this thing out either?" asked Mason, leaning over
Loring's shoulder.
"Ah, this wagon is an old converted chemical burner. These controls are
old as the sun. I've got to find the automatic pilot!"
"Try that lever over there," suggested Mason.
Loring reached over to grasp it, turning away from his prisoners.
"Bangs, get 'em!" shouted Jardine. The two men jumped to their feet and
lunged at Loring and Mason. Loring dove to one side, losing the gun in
the scramble, but as he fell, he reached for the acceleration control
lever. He wrenched it out of its socket and brought it down on Bang's
head, and the officer slid to the floor. Jardine, meanwhile, had Mason
in a viselike grip, but again Loring used the lever, bringing it down
hard on the neck of the freighter pilot. Jardine dropped to the deck.
"Thanks, Loring," gasped Mason. "That was close! Good thing we had on
these space suits, or we'd have been finished. They couldn't grab onto
the smooth 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.
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