"What are we going to play?" someone squealed.
"Play anything—any snappy march will do!"
Anderson came to the rescue with the command, "Play 'The March of the Rocketeers'."
The girls raised their instruments and were just about to start playing when Verger shouted, "One moment, please. We've all got to be in this—the men as well as the women. Otherwise they may get the idea that the men aren't needed in the band and will start to carve us up. How about it, Professor? Have you any extra instruments?"
Anderson shook his head.
"Any objects that resemble musical instruments will do. Where's that gimmick you were working on?"
"You mean my high-frequency sound projector? I'll get it right away," Anderson dashed into the stateroom, returning immediately with his invention.
"O.K. You march along with the girls. Make believe you're playing on your dohickey. I'll pretend to play on this monkey wrench. LeDoux, you blow on your ray-gun—but be careful you don't get absent minded and pull the trigger."
Stepping to the open hatch, Captain Verger yelled, "O.K., girls! Now play like you've never played before! One! Two! Three! Four! Let's go!" With the blaring band streaming after him, and with his ridiculous monkey wrench pressed against his lips, he strode forth to the soil of the hostile satellite.