"So," said Dusty, "if you think I'm going to go on playing the part of a broken-down hero-spaceman when there are real spacemen around, you're nuts, Gramer. Include me—as you've said so often—out."
"But what are you going to do?"
"Me? I'm going to Marandis. Barb and I have an offer from Supergalaxy Spectacles to make a series of what they call 'Primitives.' You know, old-timers with men using chemical rockets and learning their first feeble steps into space."
He grinned at Barbara knowingly. "I've got a script of Destination Moon I swiped from Central Files. It should oughta wow 'em cold!"
[Transcriber's Note: No Chapter XII heading in original publication.]