An hour later the boats returned to the _Polaris_ and the Earthmen
assembled in the control room. Connel, Tom, and Alfie were busy reducing
the readings of the tests into recognizable copper ton estimates per
square mile.
Finally Connel turned around, wiped his brow, and faced the others.
"This is one of the greatest discoveries for Earthmen since they learned
how to blast off!" The big officer paused and then held up the results
of the tests. "This satellite is _really_ three-quarters solid copper!"
There was a loud mumble as everyone began talking at once.
"How are we going to get it back home, sir?" asked Tom. "Wouldn't
hauling it back in spaceships cost too much?"
"Yes, it would, Corbett," answered Connel, "but I've got an idea how we
can lick that problem."
"Can't see how you can lick it," snorted Shinny, "unless you take the
whole blasted satellite back!"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do!" answered Connel.
"What?" exclaimed Roger, momentarily forgetting he was addressing a
senior officer. "How in blazes are you going to do that?"
Connel turned to the chart-screen projector and switched it on.
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