The Golden Skull: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

Tony opened his billfold. "Let's see. That's fifty dollars. Is American money all right?"

Angel smiled. "American money is always all right, everywhere. I will get a truck and then come to the airport. Yes?"

"Yes. And glad to have you with us," Rick said.

Scotty and Tony echoed his remark and they shook hands all around. Angel tucked the pesos into his wallet and hurried out.

"Good deal," Scotty said. "He's a lot of man. Notice those shoulders? And his hands show he's used to work. I like him."

Rick and Tony did, too, and said so. "I feel better about him going off alone with our stuff," Rick said.

"Except for the SS," Scotty added, referring to the earth scanner. "You heard what he said about the road to Baguio? That's a delicate gadget and we don't want it banged around too much."

"You've got a point," Rick agreed. "Suppose we take it with us in the plane?"

"Good idea." Scotty rose. "Tony, we'll go on to the airport and meet you here about eleven thirty. Okay?"

"That will give me plenty of time." The scientist hesitated. "I know you'll take care of yourselves. Remember that we have a sniper after us. Not to mention an Ifugao with no palate. Incidentally, I suspect that our friend Angel has a little Igorot or Ifugao blood. Did you notice that he resembles the American Indian?"

"I did," Rick said. "Would it be unusual for him to have Igorot blood?"

"Not particularly. There is some intermarriage of Christian Filipinos with the pagans. Also, Angel may have some Chinese blood, which would account for the unusually high cheekbones and rather flat face. He doesn't have the Mongoloid eye fold which gives the appearance of slant eyes, but that means nothing. Many Filipinos with Chinese blood lack it."

"What are the Filipinos, anyway?" Scotty asked as they walked to the door.

"Originally, the Filipinos were of almost pure Malay blood. But there was much intermarriage with the Chinese and the Spanish, and now, particularly around Manila, mestizos, which is what persons of mixed race are called, are very common."

Tony hailed a taxi at the door and the boys went to their room. Rick had put a thread across the bottom of the casement window. It was not disturbed, nor was the chair he had carefully placed so that anyone coming through the door would move it slightly. There had been no prowlers while they were at breakfast.

The boys opened the case containing the earth scanner and lifted out the leather carrying cases which contained the electronic controls and amplifiers and the delicate scanning tube. They carried the cases down to the lobby and took a cab to the airport.

The ride was pleasant, since the way to the airport was along Dewey Boulevard, which edged Manila Bay. Far across the bay they could see the American Naval Station at Cavite. And to the north was Mariveles Mountain on Bataan Peninsula.

Here and there the sail of a banca dotted the brown water. In the bancas – outrigger canoes – were fishermen. A large part of the Filipino diet was fish.

The highway branched away from the bay finally, and a short time later they arrived at the modern airport, once the American Air Corps base of Nichols Field.

The Sky Wagon was as they had left it, apparently undisturbed. But they were not taking anything for granted. Rick and Scotty checked the plane over literally inch by inch, searching for signs of tampering.

As Rick examined the landing struts, a shadow fell across the doorway. He looked up to see an American watching him.

The American stepped forward. He was of medium height, with close cropped sandy hair. He wore a yellow T shirt under a white linen coat. His trousers were gray rayon, and his footgear was openwork sandals. He looked comfortable and cool, even in the broiling Philippine sun. Rick judged him to be about forty years old.

"Mind if I look?" the man asked.

"Not at all," Rick answered politely. He hesitated, then introduced himself and Scotty, who had come around from the other side of the plane.

"My name is Nast. James Nast. You must be two of the scientific party I read about in the Manila Bulletin."

"I didn't know anything about us had been in the papers," Rick replied.

"This morning," Nast said. He took a tabloid-size paper from his pocket, unfolded it to the item, and handed it to them.

The item was brief. It merely stated that a party headed by Dr. Anthony Briotti, with Mr. Richard Brant and Mr. Donald Scott, had been entertained by the Assistant Secretary of the Interior at dinner prior to their departure to Mountain Province to search for primitive artifacts. Dr. Okola, of the University of the Philippines, local adviser to the American party, also had attended the dinner.

"Lazada must have given that to the press," Rick remarked.

"Probably," Nast agreed. "Filipino politicos are like our own. They live on publicity. Please don't let me intrude. I came to the airport to meet a shipment from Hong Kong, but the plane is late, so I've been wandering around sightseeing."

"Are you in business?" Scotty asked.

"Yes. Import-export. I import Chinese silver, both alloyed and pure, and have it fabricated by Filipinos. Mostly into filigree work. Then I export it to America. I also import Siamese and Indo-Chinese silks which are made into all sorts of things and then exported to America. I was expecting a silk shipment this morning. My agent in Hong Kong gets it from Siam and Indo-China, and forwards it."

"Been out here long?" Rick inquired.

"Since the war. I first came here when I was in the Navy. Liked it so well I took my discharge here and stayed. Going to be in Manila long?"

"Just a few hours." Rick wiped sweat from his face. "We're going to Baguio."

"So am I. Perhaps I'll see you there."

"Really? What's Baguio like?"

"Plenty of local color. And the weather is great. It's high in the mountains and very cool. You'll sleep under blankets tonight, and so will I." Nast wiped his face, too. "This shipment goes by truck to Baguio, and I'm going to ride along with it." He wiped his face again.

"Why don't you take your coat off?" Scotty asked.

Nast grinned. "Because I've got a .38 automatic in a shoulder holster."

The boys stiffened. Rick and Scotty exchanged glances.

"The road to Baguio isn't the safest in the world," Nast explained. "It's fairly peaceful now, but bandits still operate up through Pampanga Province. I carry a gun to discourage interest in my shipments."

Now that he had mentioned it, Rick could see the bulge of the shoulder holster. But it was a good job of tailoring and he realized that the linen jacket had been made to conceal the shoulder gun.

"The plane from Hong Kong won't be in for at least a half hour," Nast said. "Mind if I stick around? It's a pleasure to talk to Americans. I deal mostly with Filipinos out in the barrios, the small towns where my fabricating is done, and I don't see Americans very often."

"Glad to have you, if you don't mind our going ahead with our work," Rick told him.

"Don't let me get in the way. Go right ahead."

The boys did so, and Rick explained the fine points of the Sky Wagon to Nast while he worked to check every possible point of sabotage. He liked talking about the plane. It was something to be proud of. And Nast was an interested listener who apparently knew something about planes.

After the check up, they rolled the plane outside and Rick warmed up the engine. Then, while he was testing the radio, Angel Manotok arrived with a truck. Rick immediately shut the engine off and got out, curious to see what Angel had found. Scotty was already looking it over, with Nast an interested spectator. Rick introduced him to Angel, then asked:

"Is it in good condition?"

"Very good. The man said it had been overhauled recently, and I believe him. The tires are in good condition and there are two spares."