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"Me, that kicked my dunnage-bag down the fo'c's'le-hatch at fifteen years old? I'll show you whether I'm afraid or not." He knotted a hitch around the spokes of the wheel and scuffed hastily forward.
You'll be ready to transfer?" "I'll be ready!" and the Quartermaster's ex-clerk went to his quarters and packed his dunnage-bag. In due time the long, slender body of the rocket-plane came into view, creeping 'down' upon the space-ship from 'above, and Cleveland bade his friends good-bye. Donning a space-suit, he stationed himself in the starboard airlock.
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