He talked with Benson for a while. "Don't let Axelson get the jump on you," he said. "Be on the alert every moment." The gunners, keen-looking men, graduates from the Annapolis gunnery school, grinned and nodded. They were proud of their trade and its traditions; Nat felt that the vessel was safe in their hands.
The chief mate appeared at the head of the companion, accompanied by a girl. "Stowaway, Sir," he reported laconically. "She tumbled out of the repair shop annex when we let out the air!"
at stared at her in consternation, and the girl stared back at him. She was a very pretty girl, hardly more than twenty-two or three, attired in a businesslike costume consisting of a leather jacket, knickers, and the black spiral puttees that had come into style in the past decade. She came forward unabashed.
"Well, who are you?" snapped Nat.
"Madge Dawes, of the Universal News Syndicate," she answered, laughing.
"The devil!" muttered Nat. "You people think you run the World Federation since you got President Stark elected."
"We certainly do," replied the girl, still laughing.
"Well, you don't run this ship," said Nat. "How would you like a long parachute drop back to Earth?"