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He decided to risk it. "He's a jet trucker. I saw him out at the spaceport today." The two men looked at each other. "Little guy, with a sort of funny twitch in his eye?" asked Cag. "Yes," replied Tom. "That's him. Know him?" "He hangs out in a joint across the street," said Monty. "Come on outside. I'll show you where it is. And his name's Pistol, in case you want to know." "Pistol," said Tom.
"That's an odd name." "Not when you consider he carries a pistol all the time," snorted Cag. Tom and the two men walked to the door and out into the street. "What do you want to see him about, anyway?" asked Monty, as they walked to the corner. "Just wanted to talk to him about the jet-trucking business." "What about it?
Then bracing himself, he pulled hard. The door swung open and Monty fell out, hitting the pavement and rolling off into the sand to lie still. Tom paid no attention to him. With a mighty effort, he swung into the cab and confronted a startled, wild-eyed Cag. "You!" cried Cag. "Stop this crate, or so help me, I'll break your head!" Tom shouted, brandishing the short length of pipe.
Just find out who owns this trucking outfit and who would gain if the projectiles failed." Tom was back in the cab in a flash. He started the mighty jets and began to engage the clutch. Cag leaped up. "You can't leave me here in the desert! I'll die." Tom looked at the man, threw out the rest of the food and water from the compartment, and gunned the huge truck down the highway.
"We know just about everybody that comes in here." "Maybe he don't want to tell us, Monty," said Cag. "I don't know his name," said Tom. "I just met him today and he mentioned this place. I wanted to talk to him about something." "Where did you see him?" Tom paused. It was only a chance remark that the driver of the jet truck had made and it was a slim chance that these two men might know him.
In reply, Cag suddenly swerved the big truck to one side of the road, hoping to throw Tom out of the open door. Tom managed to grab hold just in time. He swung back into the cab and struck out with the pipe. Cag ducked and swung the heavy truck to the opposite side of the road, trying to throw Tom off balance, but the cadet was not to be denied.
The teleceiver screen glowed into life and Tom and Connel stared in horror as they recognized the images of three men. The one in the foreground smiled mockingly and said, "Remember me, Connel?" "Devers!" Connel roared. "And the other two behind him " stuttered Tom. "Cag and Monty!" "Why, you dirty space crawler," cried Connel, "I'll get you if it's the last thing I do!" "No, you won't, Major."
He swung the heavy pipe again and again, landing hard, telling blows on the arms and shoulders of the burly truck driver. Finally a solid blow caught Cag on the side of the head and he slumped over unconscious. Tom leaned over him, grabbed the wheel, and maneuvered the big truck back onto a straightaway course. A minute later he brought the truck to a stop.
He must know something." "Right," said Cag. "Gee, Corbett's getting his nice clean uniform messed up." Dirty gutter water flowed over Tom in the dark Martian alley as the boy lay deathly still. "What!" exclaimed Major Connel. "Give me that again." The messenger from the Solar Guard headquarters on Mars repeated the message. "Cadet Corbett has not been in his hotel since last night, sir," he said.
Cag was silent. Tom stepped in and slapped the man across the face. "Come on! Talk!" he snarled. Dirty, his clothes ripped, his hands bloody, Cadet Tom Corbett did not look like the carefree young cadet that Cag had met a few hours ago. He was frightened and began to whine. "Talk or I'll slap you silly!" Tom growled. Cag saw the wild rage in Tom's eyes and began to stutter. "The trucking outfit!
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