And so an hour passed, and another one added to it before the Lady Luck was fitted for super drive. It was finished, then, and Sandra Drake was more than voluble in her thanks.
"Never mind the thanks," said McBride, "or we'll be into that original wrangle as to who owes who what kind of a favor. Where we sit out here in the lens, favors are not weighted and set down as an asset. Forget it. G'wan out there and get Steve Hammond—and do not forget for one minute I'm coming after you if you're gone more than thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours! Get me?"
"Sure thing," said Drake. "And, John, you're pretty swell."
"Nuts!"
"All right, 'Nuts!' But some day I'm going to settle down and be a good girl, and then you can believe me."
"That, I'll believe when I see it. Go on, Sandra, go out and get Steve."
"I'll get Steve," promised Sandra. "Oh, but definitely."
"Well, good luck."
"Thanks."