"He's hanging on to the cleat over the main tube!"
"Astro," Roger called, "we're coming back in. We've spotted him."
"I heard you!" said Astro. "Must've come back on his own steam. Go get him, quick!"
Turning the nozzles of their oxygen tanks, the two cadets shot toward the ship. They quickly clambered onto the stern where Connel lay stretched out on the side of the hull, arms extended, his gloved hands gripping the small cleat on the side of the hull.
In a matter of minutes, the two boys had the Solar Guard officer safely inside the air-lock chamber and had removed his space helmet and suit. His eyes were closed, and his face was deathly white. Tom immediately clapped an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, while Roger applied heating units to the wrists and neck.
Astro burst into the chamber, followed by the professor. "Will he be all right?" Hemmingwell asked anxiously.
"Think nothing of it, Professor Hummingbird," said Roger. "The old major will come around any second, and when he does, stand back. The first thing he'll do is yell."
"Roger, the name is Hemmingwell," hissed Tom.
"Oh, yeah, sure," nodded Roger, and then turned to Astro. "Is Barret still locked up?"