Gunner Welk stiffened at the fat green pirate's question.
"We're not in the custom of asking anybody's leave for our coming and goings, Uranian!” he flared.
"Not even the Planeteers can talk to me like that!” squeaked Jenk Cheerly furiously, his hand dropping to his side.
"Draw that atom-pistol, and I'll shove it down your fat throat,” warned the towering Mercurian ominously.
"Quiet, Gunner,” snapped John Thorn. “I'll do the talking."
"Let them fight!” urged old Stilicho Keene with quavering eagerness, a ghoulish avidity in his rheumy eyes as he leaned forward. “There's nothing to warm the blood like the sight of two good men in a stand-up fight."
"There'll be no fighting here!” flared Lana Cain. “You all know my rules! If any of you doesn't like them he can get out of Turkoon and out of the Zone!"
The girl's voice cracked like a silver whip, and her dark blue eyes were stormy now with little lightnings. The space dog, Ool, had sprung to his feet, his great green eyes blazing.
Thorn sensed the electric force in this girl which had kept her the acknowledged leader of the wild Companions of Space. The others in the room were stricken to sullen silence by it.
Lana's stormy eyes swung back to Thorn.