My name's Phil Morgan, come from Georgia. Where you all from?"
"New Chicago," replied Tom. "Name's Tom Corbett. And this is Astro."
"Hiya." Astro stuck out a big paw and grinned his wide grin. "I guess
you heard. Astro's all the name I've got."
"How come?" inquired the Southerner.
"I'm from Venus and it's a custom from way back when Venus was first
colonized to just hand out one name."
"Funny custom," drawled Phil.
Astro started to say something and then stopped, clamping his lips
together. Tom could see his face turn a slow pink. Phil saw it too, and
hastily added:
"Oh--I didn't mean anything. I--ah--" he broke off, embarrassed.
"Forget it, Phil." Astro grinned again.
"Say," interjected Tom. "Look at that!"
They all turned to look at the floor they were passing. Near the edge of
the step-off platform on the fourth floor was an oaken panel, inscribed
with silver lettering in relief. As they drew even with the plaque, they
caught sight of someone behind them. They turned to see Manning, the
pile of suitcases in front of him, reading aloud.
" ... to the brave men who sacrificed their lives in the conquest of
space, this Galaxy Hall is dedicated...."
"Say, this must be the museum," said Tom. "Here's where they have all
the original gear used in the first space hops."
"Absolutely right," said Manning with a smile.
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