out?"

Miller turned on him. "You're supposed to be in charge here, but you let
sloppy work like this go on! What good does it do for me to design
circuits if--"

Earle cut him off. "Shut up, Frank. Rick, what's your story?"

Rick clenched his hands. "I installed this servo, and didn't do a clean
job of it. It was pretty sloppy. So I pulled it out to do it over again.
I won't settle for anything less than perfect work. But he came along
and jumped on me without letting me explain what I was doing."

Earle nodded. "All right. Go ahead with your work. Frank, you are not
this boy's supervisor. Let him alone."

Miller glared at the electronics chief, then turned on his heel and
stalked out of the shop. Earle watched him go, his pleasant face sober.
"I'm sorry, Rick. Frank is like that, and I don't know why. I suspect he
has troubles of some sort and takes it out on us. Try to overlook it,
because he's an extremely competent engineer. We'd have great trouble
replacing him."

Rick nodded. "Yes, sir."

The work progressed smoothly. Rick finished the part he was working on
and was assigned another. He met other members of the project, including
Phil Sherman and Charlie Kassick who, like himself, were technicians at
work on wiring and assembly. He met Cliff Damon, chief of the
instrumentation section, who showed him the intricate devices used to
track the big rockets and to record just about everything that went on
inside them.

It was pleasant and exciting, and only the incident with Frank Miller
marred the contentment Rick felt at being a part of Pegasus. Then, near
the end of his first week on the job, Miller dropped in and watched Rick
at work for a moment. The boy tensed, but said nothing beyond a civil
good morning.

Miller cleared his throat. "Brant, I want to apologize."

Rick looked up in surprise.

"I'm known as a crank, and I guess I deserve the reputation. But just
because I feel rotten doesn't mean I have to take it out on you. I'm
sorry."

Rick looked at the engineer thoughtfully. Miller was apparently sincere.
"That's all right," he said. "Why do you feel rotten, if you don't mind
my asking?"

"Ulcers. The doctor says the only way to cure them is to get out of this
business, and go into something with less stress and strain. But I
can't. I've been a rocketeer ever since I graduated from college, and I
can't leave. So if I snap at you, please forget it."

Rick nodded. "I'll play it that way if yo