The T.I.S. agent grinned. "As it happens, I did."
Suddenly both men laughed. Jaro glanced at his watch. "We've got to hurry. The ship leaves in forty-five minutes."
The door flew open, Joan sailed back into the room.
"Why so much amusement?" she said suspiciously. "We starting that comrade stuff again?"
"Get your hat on," Jaro said. "We have but forty-five minutes to make that Super Liner for Mars. We can stop by your rooms for your trunk on the way to the spaceport."
Joan drew back in amazement. "Forty-five minutes," she gasped. "But I haven't got a ticket."
"Oh, I've got the tickets," Jaro and Landovitch both said in unison. Then they closed their mouths, stared at each other.
A look of comprehension dawned on Joan's face. "Look, boys," she said grimly. "This isn't a put-up job, by any chance?"
The two men recovered. Jaro said with wounded dignity, "'Put-up job.' No. Whatever gave you that idea?"
"No. Of course not," Landovitch echoed.