Connel offered his cap to Alfie. Alfie dipped in two fingers and pulled
out a slip. "Number four! I go!" he squealed.
Roger and Shinny drew numbers one and three. Tom looked at the major.
"Go ahead, Corbett," said Connel.
"After you, sir," said Tom.
"I said draw one!" roared Connel.
"Yes, sir," said Tom. He reached in and quickly pulled out one of the
two remaining slips.
"Number six," he said quietly. "I stay."
Connel, not bothering to open the last one, slapped the hat on his head
and turned away.
"But, sir," said Tom, "I--ah--"
Connel cut him off with a wave of his hands. "No _buts_!" He turned to
the others. "Manning, Higgins! Get me a course back to Junior and make
it clean and straight. Astro, Shinny, stand by on the power deck for
course change. Tom, get on the control deck. We're going back to snatch
a hot copper filling right out of a sun's teeth!"
Once again the energy of the six spacemen was burned in twenty-four hour
stretches of improvisation and detailed calculations. Roger and Alfie
redesigned the fuse to ensure perfect co-ordination of the explosions.
Astro and Shinny surpassed their previous efforts by putting enough
power in the five small reaction units to more than do the job required.
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