Sheffield cried out after him, “Mark! Wait for me!”
Mark stopped, made as though to go on, thought better of it, and let Sheffield’s long legs consume the distance between them.
Sheffield said, “Where are you off to.” (Even after running, it was unnecessary to pant in Junior’s rich atmosphere.)
Mark’s eyes were sullen, “To the air-coaster.”
“Oh?”
“I haven’t had a chance to look at it.”
“Why, of course you’ve had a chance,” said Sheffield. “You were watching Fawkes like a hawk on the trip over.”
Mark scowled. “Everyone was around. I want to see it for myself.”
Sheffield felt disturbed. The kid was angry. He’d better tag along and try to find out what was wrong. He said, “Come to think of it, I’d like to see the coaster myself. You don’t mind having me along, do you?”
Mark hesitated. Then he said, “We-ell. If you want to.” It wasn’t exactly a gracious invitation.