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"It might be worse," sighed the handsome, blond-haired Bailey. Thirty miles the next day, over a good road, brought us to Walker's ranch, on the site of old Camp Supply. This ranch was habitable in a way, and the owner said we might use the bedrooms; but the wild-cats about the place were so numerous and so troublesome in the night, that we could not sleep.
Out of the one hundred and fifty cadets in the dormitory, one hundred and forty-nine were marked IN. The slender, blond-haired cadet quickly made it unanimous, reaching up to the tab next to the name of Roger Manning and sliding it over to cover the word OUT. With a last final look around, he raced up the slidestairs, smiling in secret triumph.
They smiled also, and admiringly, at the freshly uniformed, blond-haired boy scout striding beside her, whose face, by the fading marks upon it, indicated that lately he had accidentally bumped into something. But Johnnie saw no one, so completely were his thoughts taken up. Of course Father Pat was sick. That was why he had not been back to the flat.
"Roger," gasped Astro, "what's this all about?" "I I don't know," stammered the blond-haired cadet. He grabbed the teleceiver microphone and called into it rapidly. "Rocket scout 4J9 to Regulus. This is Space Cadet Roger Manning. There must be some mistake, sir. Cadet Astro and I are out here on special assignment for the Space Projectile project." "I know who you are!" shouted Newton.
"My affectionate Desire!" mocked John, still in that high, strained voice which now was perilously near a sob. "That that is what I was to her, a convenient friend! You you had it all. And let it go, for the sake of that blond-haired, deer-eyed, fashion plate " "That's enough! You are not an hysterical girl. Sit down.... I can't understand this, John. I thought "
"End transmission," said Tom gloomily and slumped back into his chair. Something had happened to Roger, or he had completely blown his top. And in the light of past performances by the blond-haired radar expert, Tom could not decide which. Roger had threatened many times that if he should ever leave the Academy, he would do it quietly, without fanfare.
He paused at Roger's inert form and bent over, his lips close to the paralyzed cadet's ear. "I'm going to try and find a ray gun," he whispered quickly. "If I can't, then I'm going to try and get in touch with Commander Walters or the Solar Guard patrols." He patted the blond-haired cadet on the shoulder and raced up the ladder to the control deck.
"There's a whole world of people mad with him," I answered after a pause. The perplexed expression of the blond-haired man intensified. It is vain to deny that he enlarged the scope of his inquiry, visibly if not verbally. "Dear me!" he said, and took up something he had nearly forgotten. "And you found yourselves suddenly on a mountain side? ... I thought you were joking."
"He seems to have the biggest mouth in the unit." "Well, he'd better watch his step with me or he'll find himself in a space hurricane!" Sykes said gruffly. Vidac turned to Roger, but the blond-haired cadet was staring down at his boots. Vidac suppressed a smile.
Mahon, he blushed a little now at memories of her predecessors in that infamous end-of-steel village blond-haired, flashing eyed, bejewelled, strident voiced hussies who had worn out their welcome in society less base. For the sixth time Mahon consulted his watch and shook his head self-reprovingly. "Half-past eleven! Dissipation.
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