"Sounds as though we have genius in our midst," she answered, flashing Guy a glance that made his heart leap.
"Oh, I—" started Guy, and then remembered the whole tale again. He couldn't really take credit for this. It wasn't truly his idea; that had come from Ertene. The application of the light-shield had been his, but they were giving him credit for the whole thing.
That was not fair—and yet he knew that he must take false credit or betray not only himself but Ertene, too. And now that his die was cast, he must never waver from that plan. To do so would bring the wrath of the Board of Investigation for his not telling all upon his arrival.
So he stopped the deprecatory sentence and merely smiled.
"—don't think it is too wonderful. It is, or was, but a matter of time before someone else struck the same idea."
"But you were first!" said Laura. "And we're going to celebrate. Mind if I run off with him?" she asked her parents.
She drew him from the dining room without waiting for an answer.
VII.
From Sahara Base to New York is a solid, two-hour flight for the hardiest driver. Maynard was no tyro at the wheel of a sky-driver, and he drove like fury and made it in slightly over the two-hour mark. He let the flier down in New Jersey and they took the interurban tube to the heart of Manhattan.