"Do you have any idea where they might be hiding, sir?"
"Somewhere in the asteroid belt, I believe," replied the commander. "They headed for the belt after they held up the transport."
"Well, we'll do what we can from our end, sir," said Strong. "Since Mars is closer to the asteroid belt than any other planet, they might be using Marsopolis as a hangout. Or someone might have seen them recently."
"Use whatever plan you think best, Steve. I'm counting on you."
"End transmission," replied Strong and flipped off the screen.
Fifteen minutes later, the _Dog Star_ settled on a blast-scorched ramp at the Marsopolis spaceport, and after a hasty review of their plans, the four spacemen left the ship. Strong had a brief argument with a customs officer over a personal search for small arms. They were forced to leave their paralo-ray guns on the ship. Disgruntled, as far as the customs agents were concerned, Strong was actually pleased with the success of their disguise as merchant spacemen.
Tom and Strong found the Spacelanes Bar in the roughest and darkest section of Marsopolis. It was large and almost empty. But Tom noted that it was just like many other such places he had been in in Luna City. The walls were scarred and dirty, the floor littered, and the tables and chairs looking as if they had been used in a hundred fights. Behind a bar that ran the length of one wall, a heavy-set man with beady black eyes watched their approach.
"What's your pleasure, spacemen?" asked the bartender in a gruff voice.
Strong hesitated a moment and decided to play all his cards at one turn. "We'll have a thousand credits worth of information."
The barman's eyes narrowed into black slits. "What kind of information would bring that kind of a price?" he asked.
"What man?" asked the barman. He dropped his hand out of sight behind the bar. Tom's eye caught the move and he wished the customs men hadn't taken away their paralo-ray guns.
Just at that moment he heard Roger's unmistakable laugh and turned to see the blond cadet, followed by Astro, enter, cross the room, and slap the bar for service.
"Let me take care of these two," muttered the bartender and walked down to the end of the bar. Facing Roger and Astro, he snarled, "What'll it be?"