Teen-age Super Science Stories
took Clay into the corridor where they were alone.

“Was Mort’s story true?” Rob asked.

“I don’t like his use of the word ‘bragging,’” Clay protested. “We just happened to get to talking about sports and I told him about the track meet in 2002 when I set new records in the running broad jump and mile run. Then suddenly he springs up all red-faced, accusing me of bragging ever since he has known me. That got me hot then, and I guess one thing led to another.”

Rob looked at him squarely. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to replace you on Titan, Clay,” he said quietly.

The color drained out of the big fellow’s face. He was shocked. “Why—why?” he blurted.

“Because I’m afraid your attitude is a danger to the success of the project,” Rob said.

“My attitude?” Clay asked in surprise. “What attitude?”

“Think about it awhile and I believe you’ll understand if you’re honest with yourself. If you can’t figure it out, my explaining won’t do much good.”

As this sank in, Clay’s initial pallidness gave way to a red suffusion of anger. “I know what it is! You can’t stand the competition! You’re afraid the name of Gerard will steal the glory from the Allison reputation on this flight!”

Just then there was an unexpected witness on the scene. Lieutenant Swenson was striding rapidly up the corridor.

“I couldn’t help listening,” he said, “and I can’t help putting in my two cents!”

He planted his stalwart body in front of Clay Gerard. “Lieutenant Allison is too much of a gentleman to give you the lesson you deserve, Gerard, so I’ll do it myself verbally—and physically too if you prefer.”

“The idea of your name competing with his in reputation is laughable. He’s set records for unselfish service you’ll never touch. You’ve set your records for personal glory, but his were an outcome of risking his life to save his friends. And what Lieutenant Allison meant by your attitude was a polite way of saying you’re a troublemaker and an unmitigated braggart. Every word you speak is a challenge to someone. Tell me, have you ever lost a race?”

“No, sir,” Clay returned meekly, under the shock of the officer’s 
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