"Trouble?" Interest flared in the Skipper's eyes.
Don Denton laughed. "I doubt it," he said. "Probably some space tramp landed and sold the men some Martian Ganto seeds. They're probably nursing such large hangovers that they can't work. I'll just take the supplies on, give the boys a pep talk, then head back for Earth."
"All loaded, Captain," a sailor's voice came from the televisor screen.
Don Denton lounged to his feet. "So long, Captain," he said, "I'll remember that Panyanox invitation, the next time I run into you on Mars."
"Sure, sure, of course!" The Skipper flushed. "Er, ah—, Denton?"
"Yes?" Don Denton turned from the door.
"I've got a passenger I want to transship to Venus."
Don Denton grinned, shook his head. "Sorry, Captain," he said, "but no can do; company rules, you know."
"But this passenger—?"
"No," Denton said decisively. "In the first place, I can't carry passengers on the scouter; and in the second place, I haven't the slightest desire to be holed up with anybody. Sorry, but your passenger will have to get a charter job for the trip."