Rawson strolled away whistling and grinning inwardly.
The rockets pounded as they were adjusted for the landing. It was a
fairly simple job and Rawson knew Durk could handle it.
From the port in his cabin Rawson saw the _Star Flight_ settle on a
reef between a dark and forbidding pool and a swampy morass. Beyond was
white, hilly sand.
Rawson turned sharply, on guard, as he heard heavy steps clump into his
cabin. Durk and six of the crew.
"Well, Mr. Smarty, we got you now!" Durk's hoarse voice bellowed in
triumph. "Yore under arrest!"
Rawson's muscles rippled and his blue eyes cracked with electric
sparks. "Arrest?"
"Yeah! Not bein' in command in an emergency! Put him in irons, boys!"
Todd Rawson looked at the faces of the crew. By the tough lines about
their eyes, by the grime in their skins, they showed that they were
one with the underofficer--veterans of the spaceways who bowed only to
experience and strength.
"This is mutiny. You know that, Mr. Durk!"
"No, it ain't!" the other said flatly. "You deserted yore duty. Me and
the crew'll make it stick before the court-martial back home!"
Rawson saw that the underofficer had the force to back him up. "You won
this round, Durk. But it's only the first." He smiled coolly.