“The Meteor rattled like an old freighter the whole way!” Jim complained. “We spent a lot of time in the rear checking on the rocket tubes. We were afraid they’d shake loose. I guess we must have been back there when we passed you, for the last time I looked out you were ahead of us.”
That explained why they hadn’t seen his wave, Steve thought.
“It sure was a lucky break for us that you brought your drill along,” Jim went on. “I had so much confidence in the Meteor I was sure we wouldn’t need it.”
“I felt the same way,” Bart admitted, “but Steve insisted we bring it. That kid brother of mine always did have more practical sense than I.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since we crash-landed, Bart,” Jim said. “I’ve been thinking that maybe this feud has gone on long enough and that you must be as sick of it as I am. Together, we could turn out ships that would be just about perfect. What do you say, Bart?”
Bart’s face grew stern and thoughtful. Finally he answered, “I’ll have to think it over first, Dennis.”
“While you’re thinking, we may as well have a look-see,” Jim said. He went over to the panel and checked the readings. “You seem to be way ahead of my old record, Bart. You’re still going to try to beat it, aren’t you?”
Steve knew this remark had broken down the last of Bart’s stubborn pride and reserve. His brother smiled and thrust out his hand to Jim Dennis. “You’re a good loser, Jim,” he said.
“I’m no loser,” Jim answered, grinning. “I’m a winner—we both are.”
Young Steve Condon sighed contentedly. He glanced at Pete Rogers, who winked at him. Jim and Bart sat down side by side at the control panel of the Condon Comet. Steve didn’t doubt for a moment that the long feud was finally at an end. He was satisfied that his father would have liked it this way.