"Yeah."
"I think you're lying! You're Solar Guard."
"Honest, Steve," whined Pete. "That's the only reason I want him. Ask anybody. It happened in the Spacelanes Bar on New Denver Avenue. I bet there are five guys here right now who heard about it!"
Strong got up, pushing the gun back in his belt.
"Come on, Tom. I don't like the way your friend Pete answers questions."
"Wait a minute!" Pete rose from his chair, protesting.
Strong whirled around and faced the scar-faced man. "If I were you, Pete," he muttered, "I'd sit still and not ask any more questions. It isn't healthy!"
Without another word Strong walked out of the dingy restaurant. Tom shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture and followed, leaving Pete alone and worried.
Outside in the street, his face bathed in the garish light of the vapor street lights, Strong stopped to wipe his forehead.
"Whew!" he gasped. "We certainly bulled our way through that one!"