The Golden Skull: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story. Goodwin Harold Leland

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СКАЧАТЬ made their way back to the hotel. In the main dining room they talked over cups of hot chocolate, ignoring the curious stares of late supper guests who obviously wondered about Rick and Scotty's disheveled condition.

      Since the boys had not wanted to discuss their personal business in front of Lazada's chauffeur there had been no chance to tell Tony about Chahda. Now they did so, and Rick ticked off points on his fingers.

      "Item One: The man on the boat who tried to chop you. Either an Igorot or Ifugao. Item Two: Chahda checks out of the hotel and appears as a Sikh guard at Lazada's."

      "You forgot Item Three," Scotty added. "Colonel Felix Rojas. Asked us what good is hay to a dead horse, and knew we were having dinner at Lazada's." He described the incident to Tony.

      "Item Four," Rick continued. "We find a prowler in your room. He had a rifle cached in the walled city and waited around to use it on us. He was either an Igorot or Ifugao." He spread his hands. "Do we need anything more? Something is in the wind. But what?"

      "A golden skull," Scotty said.

      "Yes. But we don't have it. Does it make sense for anyone to try to knock us off before we have it? Shucks, we don't even know where it is, except that it's somewhere among the rice terraces."

      "Which is like saying that somewhere in the Mohave Desert is a buried treasure," Scotty added.

      Tony Briotti sighed. "I had heard a great deal about the penchant you two have for mysteries and excitement. Now I believe everything I've heard and more. I can't imagine any reason for all these happenings. They simply don't make sense."

      "They do to someone," Rick said, and Scotty nodded agreement.

      Their waiter approached, an envelope in his hand. "Meester Brant? This come while you outside. You take?"

      Rick took. "Must have arrived while Scotty and I were battling for the boxing championship of the walled city." He tore it open.

      "Item Five," he said. "From Chahda. 'Can't come now. Meet you in Baguio. Watch yourselves. Big danger from Ifugao no palate.'"

      Scotty held his head with both hands. "Great! How do we know whether or not an Ifugao has no palate?"

      "Look down the throats of every one we see," Rick said wearily. "Or maybe if an Ifugao has no palate he wears a sign to say so."

      Tony Briotti rose. "That message makes no sense, either. And I make no sense to myself. It's late. Come on to bed. Maybe everything will clear up in the morning."

      "Go to bed or go nuts," Rick added. "The choice is easy. But let's bar the windows. Just to keep the night air out."

      "Amen," Scotty said. "I think I'll break out my rifle and keep it by the bed. Just in case some of that dangerous night air gets in."

      CHAPTER V

      Manotok the Mighty

      At breakfast the next morning Rick and Scotty were subjected to an amused scrutiny by Tony. He ticked off the items on his fingers.

      "Rick has a slight mouse under one eye, and his left arm seems a little stiff. I noticed that he sat down gingerly, and that there is a very pronounced bruise on the side of his jaw. Hands would indicate that he has been playing with a rather rough cat, except that I happen to know he was scrambling around in some cadena de amor.

      "Scotty is also wearing a mouse under one eye, perhaps a little more prominent than Rick's. And he has a long scratch behind the left ear, obviously caused by some sharp instrument."

      The archaeologist grinned. "If you do that to each other, what would you do to an enemy?"

      The boys grinned back. "Can't tell you until we catch an enemy," Rick replied. "Actually, most of my terrible wounds came from falling down."

      "Same here," Scotty agreed. "And that sharp instrument you mentioned was the edge of a tin can."

      Tony spooned succulent orange-colored papaya melon with appreciation. "Have either of you figured out what our Ifugao friend – let's assume that he was an Ifugao – wanted in my room last night?"

      "The only answer I can think of is the obvious one," Rick answered. "He probably thought we have a map or something showing the location of the golden skull. He wanted it."

      "I accept the hypothesis only because I haven't a better one," Tony said. "How about you, Scotty?"

      Scotty shrugged. "Can't buy it. But on the other hand, I don't have any theory. Wish Sherlock Holmes were here."

      "We could use him," Briotti admitted. "Well, what's the program for today?"

      "Off to Baguio," Rick replied. "But first, we'll have to rent or buy a truck. The plane can't carry us plus our gear, and we'll need the truck to take our stuff into the mountains. Scotty and I can do that. What are your plans?"

      "There's an American anthropologist here I'd like to see. He's internationally known. Name of J. Walter McGowan. I made a tentative appointment yesterday. I'm sure he will have some information on the Ifugaos that will be of interest. Probably Okola has included in his papers on the subject everything McGowan knows, but I'd like to talk with him just to get the feel of things, so to speak."

      "Then why don't you do that this morning?" Rick suggested. "We'll get the truck, load the gear, and get ready to take off."

      "Wonder where that Filipino Angel is?" Scotty asked. "Wasn't he supposed to be here this morning?"

      "I don't think Okola specified a time," Tony replied. "And the morning is still pretty young."

      That was true enough, Rick thought. Besides, he had the impression that the Filipinos, although they followed Western customs, had the Far Easterners' disregard of time.

      "If the Angel doesn't arrive, one of us will have to drive the truck to Baguio," he said. "I had hoped he would take the truck, then we three could fly."

      Scotty asked, with deceptive casualness, "Tony, what do you think of Dr. Okola?"

      Tony answered promptly. "A first-rate scientist and a distinguished gentleman besides. Why?"

      "Do you trust him?"

      "Implicitly. We're not dealing with a stranger here, Scotty. Okola's name has been known to me since I first became interested in archaeology. We have many mutual friends, and he has been very helpful and courteous since this project was first proposed. Yes, I trust him."

      "That's good," Scotty said, "since we're buying the services of this Angel purely on his say-so. We'll have to trust Angel. We have no choice."

      "True. I'm prepared to trust him, simply because Okola said we could."

      Rick nodded agreement. "I'll take him on faith, too." He had learned not to be overtrustful in far places among strangers, but he agreed with Tony's estimate of Okola. The man, he believed, was just what he seemed to be – a Filipino scientist and gentleman. He had liked Okola.

      "All right," Scotty said. "I'll go along. Okola seemed like a real compadre. But how about Lazada? Do you trust him?"

      Tony considered. He finished his papaya, then tackled a mango salad, an unusual but delicious breakfast dish. "I don't distrust him," he said finally. "That's negative, but the best I can do. He's СКАЧАТЬ