Connel frowned but didn't reply.
"You were mate on that ship before you enlisted in the Solar Guard," persisted Walters. "And I read the log of your first trip when you wrote, and I quote, 'There seems to be some mysterious and unanswerable condition aboard this vessel that makes her behave as if she had human intelligence....'"
"That has nothing to do with this situation!" roared Connel.
"They're alike! You couldn't get a crew on that wagon in any port of call from Venus to Jupiter!"
"But we found out what was wrong with her eventually!"
"Yes, but the legend still exists that the Spaceglow had intelligence of its own!" asserted Walters.
"All right," snorted Connel. "So we have to fight superstition! But, blast it, Commander, we're faced with a saboteur. There's nothing supernatural or mysterious about a man with a bomb!"
Connel turned abruptly and walked out of the commander's office, more furious than Walters had ever seen him.
Back at the hangar, Connel faced the professor. It was a tough thing to tell the elderly man, and Connel, for all his hard exterior, could easily appreciate the professor's feelings. After many years of struggle to convince die-hard bankers of the soundness of his Space Projectile plan, followed by sabotage and costly work stoppages, it was heart-rending to have a "jinx" finally stop him.
"I'm sorry," said Connel, "but that's the way things are, Professor."