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Now SSM Hanlon's orders were to take ship to Simonides Four, and seek to learn what he could about these guessed-at conditions as swiftly as possible. If he gained any impressions of who or what group was behind this movement, he was to attempt to join it and ferret out that secret so it could be reported.
Take the 'Hellene' which leaves Centropolis spaceport Friday of this week. We have good reason to believe that certain interesting people will be aboard that ship." Hanlon's mind raced. Evidently someone wanted him to see what impressions or evidence he could pick up from those suspected persons.
It was evident he was not used to people not jumping when his "Boss" issued invitations which were really commands. He shook his head slowly. "I hope for your sake he's in a good humor," he said as he left. Hanlon's mind was not too easy as he ate swiftly, and his relish of the excellent food was not as keen as it might have been but for this interruption.
But his eyes showed he realized he had been trapped by that admission. "You're one of the few persons known who have ever actually been able to read another's mind. That's important very important to the Corps. It must be used!" Hanlon's eyes were still stormy, but he kept his lips tightly closed. The commandant's face grew kindly again.
That may have been their mistake had Panek and the other two stood perfectly still it was a bare possibility they might have survived, although in Hanlon's grimly determined frame of mind that was now doubtful. Not that Hanlon was angry, even at Panek for the terrible beating of his unconscious body. For he realized it was the man's cruel, sadistic nature; that he could not have acted otherwise.
"Then why don't you listen to me instead of taking the word of this slime-snake who calls himself an instructor? Bah! He oughta be digging ditches!" "That'll do!" Disgust showed on the admiral's face as he gestured to the marines, who jumped forward and grabbed Hanlon's arms, twisting them behind his back and handcuffing them.
"You'd better, and mighty quick, too!" the man snapped, although it was apparent he was puzzled by Hanlon's manner. "He don't like to be kept waiting." "And I don't like to be hurried or ordered about!" Hanlon snapped back. "If I come, and notice I said 'if, I'll be there in about an hour. Now, do you mind? I like to enjoy my food." The man rose, still with that perplexed expression.
About a week had now elapsed since the abusive contest between Jemmy Branigan and the pedlar; the coroner was beginning to recover, and Charley Hanlon's aunt had disappeared altogether from the neighborhood. Previous to her departure, however, she, her nephew, and the pedlar, had several close, and apparently interesting conferences, into which their parish priest, the Rev.
"I distinctly saw you looking at Cadet Fox's paper. The idea of any cadet, this close to graduation, trying such a contemptible thing!" Hanlon's bewilderment was changing to anger at such an unjust accusation, when suddenly a thought struck him ... This was it! Cheating at examinations always meant expulsion and disgrace.
"But I never figured you for a cheapskate." There was a gasp, as though the leader was amazed at Hanlon's temerity. But he quickly gained control of himself, and an instant later began smiling, then grinning and finally laughing aloud ... at himself. "By Zeus, Hanlon, I like you! Nobody else ever dared talk up to me like that. You win.
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