"Johnson, you've been acting suspiciously. I don't give a damn whether
I've proof of it or not. Did you or did you not meet George Prince and
that Martian, last night?"
"No, I did not. And I don't mind telling you, Captain Carter, that
your tone also is offensive!"
"Is it?" Carter seized him. They were both big men. Johnson's heavy
face went purplish red.
"Take your hands--!" They were struggling. Carter's hands were
fumbling at the purser's pockets. I leaped, flung an arm around
Johnson's neck, pinning him.
"Easy there! We've got you, Johnson!"
Snap tried to help me. "Go on! Bang him on the head, Gregg. Now's your
chance!"
We searched him. A heat ray cylinder--that was legitimate. But we
found a small battery and eavesdropping device similar to the one
Venza had mentioned that Shac the gambler was carrying.
"What are you doing with that?" the Captain demanded.
"None of your business! Is it criminal? Carter, I'll have the line
officials dismiss you for this! Take your hands off me--all of you!"
"Look at this!" exclaimed Dr. Frank.
From Johnson's breast pocket the surgeon drew a folded document. It
was a scale drawing of the _Planetara_ interior corridors, the lower
control rooms and mechanisms. It was always kept in Johnson's safe.
And with it, another document: the ship's clearance papers--the secret
code passwords for this voyage, to be used if we should be challenged
by any Interplanetary Police ship.
Snap gasped, "My God, that was in my radio room strong box! I'm the
only one on this vessel except the Captain who's entitled to know
those passwords!"