"Yeah, that's true," said Tom, "but—"
"You know, Corbett," said Dixon, switching off the story spool, "there's something screwy in that outfit of yours."
"You can say that again," agreed Tom bitterly.
"You come in here with a face dragging on the floor, and Manning—"
Tom's head jerked up. "Manning! What about that space-gassing hot-shot?"
"—Manning just tore through the rec hall trying to get some of the other Earthworm units to bet their galley demerits against your outfit."
Tom's mouth sagged open. "You mean, he actually wanted to bet that Astro would pass?"
"Not just pass, Corbett, but he wanted to bet that your unit would be top rocket of the Earthworms! The head of the list!"
"But he told Astro that—" he stopped.
"Told him what?" Dixon asked.