Ross grinned. "About two million credits' worth."
Quent rubbed his hands together. "We're in clover." He laughed and slapped his brother on the back. "Well, I suppose the Solar Guard is looking for us by now?"
Ross grinned. "Right. So we pull the old trick, eh? We have two very likely prospects right there." He pointed to Roger and Tom.
"What is that supposed to mean?" snapped Roger.
"You'll find out, squirt," sneered Quent Miles.
"Wait a minute, Quent," said Ross. "I just thought of something. No one knows there are two of us, except these two punks here. We can't work the old gag. We can only use one of them."
"How do you mean?"
"Simple. The Solar Guard thinks Manning took it on the lam from Ganymede, right?"
Quent nodded.
"Well, we take Manning, dress him up in one of our outfits and stick him aboard the empty ship alongside. The ship blows up, and should they find anything of Manning, he'll be dressed like you, or me, and that will end the situation right there. Later, we can dump Corbett out in a space suit with a little oxygen, and write a note, sticking it in his glove. When they find him, they'll think he got away from Quent Miles, and when his oxygen gave out, wrote the note giving all the details. And who can say No, since Quent Miles, as such, will be dead?"