"Hi, Doc," he said.
It was Armstrong, one of the ship's engineers.
"What happened?" asked Terry. "Did you try to buck them?"
The engineer answered painfully. "No. It was a sort of object lesson. I think. The Commander—Rennies, they call him—gave me his personal attention. But have you got the ship back?"
Underwood shook his head. "We've just broken out and managed to free a few of the others. Can you hang on a while until we can get help?"
"Yeah, sure. Don't worry about me."
"Do you know how many of them there are aboard?"
"About twenty took us over in the beginning. We were puzzled when we thought so many of you were coming back at once. Sessions and Treadwell down in the engine room were killed outright and a couple more of the boys pretty badly shot up when they tried to resist. They're the only ones I know of, besides me. Rennies and his gang took up headquarters in the control room the last I heard. That's about all the dope I can give you."
"It helps," said Underwood. "We can take care of twenty of them, if we can get organized. Take it easy, old man, and we'll be back with help."