Biggs said apologetically, "If you'll permit me, sir?" and the skipper nodded mutely. "Todd," said Mr. Biggs, "heave to as ordered. And when they board us, send them to this room."
Five minutes later, the commander of the S. S. Cyclops bustled into the control-turret, side-arms ready and backed by a hard-bitten foray party, to find a strange bit of activity.
Lancelot Biggs and I were playing a game of chess. Cap Hanson was playfully disconnecting the wires of my transmitting unit. Thaxton was sitting on top of the visiphone equipment, teasing my Ampie with a flashlight battery.
"You're all," yelled the commander, "under arrest! Er—I hope." And to Thaxton, uncertainly, "Well, Thaxton?"
The little man smiled at him cherubically.
"Very well, Commander," he piped. "And you?"
Cap Hanson, carefully coached by Biggs, stood up, bridling.
"May I ask," he said stuffily, "the reason for this invasion? My dear sir, such an unwarranted entry—"
The Cyclops commander looked stunned. He dragged a moist hand across a moister forehead and said,
"Thaxton, did you complete your investigations?"