Johnny looked up into the face of the speaker. It was a thin, narrow face with full red lips and small black eyes. Johnny didn't know him.
"That was a narrow squeak you had," the hunter said to Johnny, in a high, nasal voice. "Two minutes later you'd have been leopard food. Are you hurt?"
Johnny sat up slowly, moving his arms and legs.
"Uh uh," he said.
With a whine of the motors the 'copter went into a hover. It floated over the spot where they had picked up Johnny.
"What in the name of all the moon devils were you doing out there like that—stark naked and no armor?"
"Taking a bath." Johnny was too bewildered to make up an excuse.
The man raised his black eyes to heaven and looked at his companion. "Crazy!" he muttered. "But, kid," he addressed Johnny, "what made—"
"Skip it!" the pilot said, in a low hard voice. The black-eyed man stopped abruptly. Johnny decided the pilot must be the leader. The man turned around and looked at Johnny. He was a large man, slope-shouldered but powerful. His blond hair was slicked down against his head. Two long red scars cut across a white heavy-jawed face. His eyes were so pale they were almost white.
"Where's the bear?" he snapped.