"You're too modest." Liedl combed his black van dyke with long brown fingers. "I'm a light sleeper, my boy. And my bunk, you may recall, is next yours."
Joel's face stiffened. He glanced quickly at Tamis. The blood had drained from the girl's countenance.
"What did you hear?" he asked in a frozen voice.
"Don't be embarrassed. Your voices didn't carry, and I'm quite broadminded."
Joel stared at him bewildered. Then the blood began to burn in his cheeks as it dawned on him what Liedl meant. "The old goat," he thought. "So that's what he believes!" And he felt suddenly relieved.
Tamis' lashes were lowered. She bit her nether lip. But whether from amusement or confusion, he couldn't decide.
Fortunately, at that moment the door to the guardroom opened. Mister Mullin stuck his head inside; shouted:
"Get a move on. Inspection in fifteen minutes."
With relief Joel made his escape. He didn't like Liedl's insinuation. He didn't like Liedl. There was something cold and repellant about the black bearded professor. He wondered what crime he had committed to be sentenced to the Experimental Station.
In exactly fifteen minutes Captain Goplerud, accompanied by Mister Mullin entered the prisoners' quarters and lined them up at their bunks. Then a dozen guards filed in and took posts about the fo'cs'le with drawn paralyzers.