The girl outlined her idea for a war substitute.
"You got somethin' there," he agreed doubtfully when she had finished, "but I don't get this champeen stuff. Ain't no Big Shot gonna risk his life in an evenly-matched duel."
"Oh, I didn't mean that at all. I meant something like matching your new ship against the Space Patrol out where nobody but the crews could get hurt."
"Say!" Mike sucked through his yellow teeth. "That's not bad at all. If we win we'd have a monopoly on space travel ... a chance to get off this dinky planet and do some business. If we lose, I reckon we'll have to surrender our new discovery to United Stars—but otherwise we won't be much worse off than now.... But what do I get outa the deal?"
"Why, you sell it to the Directors while we get New Washington to agree. If it goes through, it will get the Shots out of an impossible situation, no matter who wins. The least they can do is make you chairman of the board. Then you won't have to worry about Kingfish U."
"The present board chairman hates my guts. He won't go for any plan I suggest. Besides...." He looked at them through slitted lids, "what's that 'consideration' you mentioned?"
"You'll have to get one or both of us on board that ship. Frank is an astrogator, so he should qualify. I can pinch hit as a nurse, entertainer or even a cook."
"Not on your life; I ain't gonna doublecross my pals."
"You made out all right when you doublecrossed them before."