"Yes, sir," reported Barret. "They looked O.K. to me. Why don't you check with Connel? He supervised their installation."
"That's true," said the major. "I'll go outside and look them over."
Connel turned on his heel and hurried to the air-lock chamber. Moving with amazing speed for a big man, he donned the space suit in the chamber while the pressure was being equalized. As soon as the air-lock portal opened, he scrambled out on the hull and made his way forward to the bulging firing chambers. Stooping over the empty tube of number six, he examined the ring carefully and began to frown. Moving on to number seven, his frown deepened. By the time he checked the rings of eight and nine, his face was a grim mask of anger.
"Professor," he called into his helmet microphone, "check in."
"Yes, Major," replied Hemmingwell from the control deck. "Have you found the trouble?"
"I sure have," Connel growled. "It's sabotage! And now I think I know who—"
Connel never finished. There was a sudden burst of power from the great ship and the officer was hurled into space.
"Major!" cried Hemmingwell. "Barret! What have you done? Connel is outside!"