“Ah—pardon me, gentlemen,” a quiet voice said suddenly.
Robert and the professor wheeled sharply, thoroughly startled.
To their astonishment, they beheld a man walking toward them!
“W-where did you come from?” stammered Robert, the first to recover his speech.
The newcomer, however, did not seem to share their surprize in the least. Rather he appeared to be very much at ease. His brilliant red hair, the easy and pleasant smile on his intelligent features, stamped him as an ordinary, normal person. But how had he come there?
“My apologies, gentlemen,” spoke the stranger. “I determined to cover this trip for The Chronicle, and hid in a storeroom. Hugh Taggert’s my name.”
He advanced and shook hands with them both heartily.
“Thought I might as well get acquainted right away,” he ran on, “since we are going to be companions all the way to Mars. Nifty little ship you’ve got.”
Until now their astonishment had kept Robert and the professor speechless. With the disclosure of the identity of the nervy young reporter, however, the humor of the situation struck them both.
“We hadn’t counted on company,” said the professor, “but now that you’re here, I can’t say that I’m sorry. Kind of livens the trip up, eh, Robert? Not so lonesome. But you’ve got your nerve, young man!”