"Loring!" gasped Tom. "Where's Roger?"
"Never mind him, you punk!" snarled Loring. "Tell that fatheaded Connel I wanta talk to him! Make it fast!"
Tom's face disappeared to be replaced by the raging features of Major Connel. "You murdering space rat!" he roared. "I've given you two minutes to surrender and, by the craters of Luna, you've only got thirty seconds left!"
"It'll only take ten seconds to tell you that if you don't get outta here Cadet Manning gets blasted!"
"What?" roared Connel.
"That's right," snarled Loring. "You're the one that's got thirty seconds to get out of here, or Manning takes a swim in space!"
"Why, you—" Connel's face was twisted with rage. "You can't threaten me!"
"I ain't threatening you," said Loring, "I'm telling you! If you don't get started, you'll never see Manning again. Or if you do, you won't recognize him! Now make up your mind, Connel!"
The Solar Guard officer hesitated. "Give me two minutes," he said, "and I'll call you back. Two minutes."
"Two minutes," repeated Loring, "and if I don't hear from you by then, or if you try any funny stuff, Manning gets it!"