"Connel, Senior Officer, Solar Guard," acknowledged Connel. "If we are being held prisoner, I wish to make a request."
"Prisoners don't make requests," said Drifi, and then added suspiciously, "What is it?"
"See that this man"—Connel indicated Roger—"is given medical attention at once."
Drifi eyed the major cautiously.
"I make this request as one officer to another," said Connel. "A point of honor between opponents."
Drifi's eyes gleamed visibly at the word officer, and Tom almost grinned at Connel's subtle flattery.
"You—and you," snapped Drifi at the green-clad men around them, "see that this man is taken to the medical center immediately!" Two men jumped to pick up the litter.
"Thank you," said Connel. "Now will you be so kind as to tell me what this is all about?"
"You'll find out soon enough. We have a special way of treating spies."
"Spies!" roared Connel. The officer sounded so indignant that Tom was almost fooled by his tone. "We're hunters! One of our party is lost here in the jungle. We were searching for him when we were attacked by a tyrannosaurus. During the fight, this man was injured. We're not spies!"