Still in a fog, the three cadets climbed into the back seat, flopping into the soft cushions with audible groans as the cab shot away from the hotel and sped into the main highway which led to the spaceport.
The traffic was light and the cab zoomed along at a smooth, fast clip, lulling the boys into a fitful doze. But they were rudely awakened when the car spun into a small country lane and the driver slammed on the brakes. He whirled around and grinned at them over a paralo-ray pistol. "Sorry, boys, the ride ends here. Now climb out and start stripping."
The three sleepy cadets came alive instantly. Without a word they moved in three different directions simultaneously. Tom dived for one door, Astro the other, while Roger flopped to the floor. The driver fired, missing all of them, and before he could fire again he was jerked out of his seat and held in a viselike grip by Astro. Tom quickly wrenched the paralo-ray gun from his hand.
"All right, you little space crawler," growled Astro, "start talking!"
"Take it easy, Astro," said Tom. "How do you expect him to talk when you've got him around the Adam's apple!"
"Yeah, you big ape," said Roger in a slow drawl. "Find out what he has to say before you twist his head off!"
Astro released the man, pushing him against the cab door and pinning him there.
"Now let's have it," he growled. "What's this all about?"