"They're gone," he bit out. "And we're slated for the same if we hold out any longer. Let's grab the scout and head for the Friar. Maybe we can get back here before Haggard guts this barge."
All three men seemed to sense the cessation of the Astral's rolling at the same instant. They glanced dumbly at each other. What had caused the pirate to stop its barrage?
All at once, Jeff was pointing, yelling like a madman. Cheers broke from the others' throats. With the swift grace of a bullet, the Friar Bacon was shooting across the sky in pursuit of Haggard's ship!
For a few minutes it was like watching a pair of clever fencers feint and lunge. The speed of the ships went for little now. It was the daring and skill of the man at the controls that spelled victory or defeat.
But in the end it was the Martian that drew off. A shot ripped away most of a scout carrier and showed Brand Haggard, temporarily, at least, that he was bucking a tougher, smarter man.
Carlyle did not chase him. Such a pursuit, zig-zagging on full throttles through space, could easily last a week. He brought the big cruiser alongside the wrecked Astral and the survivors sprang aboard.
VI
Larry, Jeff, and Abe were pounded on the back by their companions, while eager hands dropped to the derelict to begin the transfer of cargo.
"You three better hie yourselves down to the galley and get some grub," Carlyle grinned.