"Inspector, eh?" he repeated. And crisped Hanson's burning cheeks with a glance. "Well, Captain, it is just as I thought. Too many years of service have taken their toll on your discretion. When you start taking common radiomen into your confidence—"
I did the best I could. I rallied around.
"Now, wait a minute, Inspector!" I said. "Captain Hanson didn't tell me who you were. I—I guessed it. I'm pretty good at things like that. I figured it out the first time I saw you. It's my psychic—"
"It will be your neck," he snarled, "if you don't shut your yap! Well—now that you know who I am, I might as well tell you why I'm here. I need your cooperation in giving Lieutenant Biggs his final test."
Some of the chagrin left Hanson's eyes; his voice was hopeful.
"Final test?"
"Yes. I confess to a very great respect for your First Mate, Captain Hanson. He has proven himself capable in each of the tests offered so far. His theoretical knowledge is matched by his physical ingenuity; I have awarded him the highest possible grades in Astrogation, Analytical Judgment, and General Knowledge.
"If he passes the final test, Resourcefulness, and of course the verbal quiz on Safety Code practices, I shall take great pleasure in submitting his name for advancement.
"This test—" He turned to me. "Will be made in your department, Sparks. You—" He transfixed me with an icy glare. "You are sick!"
"Who, me?"