"Tom must feel pretty rotten, too," said Roger. "I haven't seen much of him either."
"Or Alfie," put in Astro. "Neither of them have done anything but work. I don't think either of them has slept since we left Tara."
"It's all my fault!" said Roger. "I'm nothing but a loudmouthed bag of space gas-with an asteroid for a head!" He got up and lurched toward the ladder.
"Hey, where you going?" yelled Astro.
"Almost forgot," yelled Roger from the top of the ladder. "I've got to feed our prisoners a meal. And the way I feel, I'd like to shove it down their throats!"
Roger went directly to the galley off the control deck and prepared a hasty meal for Loring and Mason. He piled it on a tray and went below to the brig.
"All right, Loring," he growled, "come and get it!"
"Well, well, well," sneered Loring. "Where's the big Manning spirit? You boys are kinda down since you blew that little operation, huh?"
"Listen, you space crawler," said Manning coldly, "one more word out of you and I'll bring you out in the passageway and pound that head of yours into space junk!"
"I wish you'd try that, you little squirt!" snarled Loring. "I'd break you in two!"