The Golden Skull: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

The truck was a typical Army vehicle with double rear wheels, both front and rear drive, and a winch on the front. The motor purred sweetly. Angel had apparently done well.

Nast asked, "Going to use both the truck and the plane? Or will you leave the plane at Baguio?"

"We're not sure," Rick said. "Depends on whether we find a landing place at Bontoc. Have you been there?"

"A few times. There are no decent fields. But you could land on the road. It's black top, and there are few power lines or phone lines. I think you can do it."

"Glad to hear that," Rick said, relieved. To Scotty and Angel he said, "We can go on back to the hotel and load the truck. We'll have to check the plane engine before take-off, anyway."

"Think the plane will be safe?" Scotty asked.

"Sure. We'll put it in the hangar and lock the door. I notice the airport guards go by pretty often, and besides, the plane has been all right so far."

"I guess you're right," Scotty agreed. "But let's put the alarm out, anyway."

The alarm was a very loud horn wired into a circuit which caused it to go off if the plane was so much as touched. Rick set it, then locked the door of the plane. Removing the key from the lock activated the circuit. Then they closed and locked the hangar door. The plane would be all right.

Nast was talking to Angel Manotok in Tagalog. Angel was replying, but not very enthusiastically.

Rick spoke up. "You speak the local language pretty well, Mr. Nast."

"Have to," Nast said cheerfully. "The Filipino families that work for me can't speak English, often as not. Well, good hunting. Perhaps we'll meet in Baguio."

The boys shook hands. "Good luck to you. Hope your shipment arrives."

"It will. The planes from Hong Kong are often late. The airport there is closed in half the time from fog. Good luck."

The boys got into the truck with Angel and he drove out to the main highway.

"What were you and Nast talking about?" Scotty asked.

Angel took his time about answering. "He just wanted to know when we were going to Baguio. I think he was making small talk. Maybe he wanted to show off his Tagalog."

"Was his Tagalog good?" Rick asked.

"Yes. Very good."

Angel said no more, and Rick wondered for a moment. What had Nast really said? He decided that it wasn't of any importance. Perhaps Nast was one of those Americans who always talk to people of other lands in a half-insulting way. Rick had met them – and mighty poor advertisements for America they were.

They parked the truck behind the hotel and took Angel to their room. "We'll get help and have the crates carried down for you." Rick said.

Angel grinned. "Why bother? You two take one and I'll take the other."

The boys looked at each other. True, the crates weren't huge, but each was a hefty load for two men.

"Stop bragging," Scotty said. The jocular tone of his voice made a playful challenge of the words.

Angel took the challenge. He went to the largest crate, swung it easily to his head, and balanced it with one hand. "Let's go," he said, grinning.

Scotty stepped forward, blood in his eye, and tackled the second crate. He got it up, but it was obvious that it was too much of a load even for his above-normal strength. Rick lent a hand and they carried the crate along behind Angel, who walked as though he had a feather pillow balanced on his head.

"Manotok the Mighty," Scotty said, and there was genuine awe in his voice.

Angel pronounced his name in the Spanish style, Ahng-hel, but now he shifted to the English pronunciation and said, "I'm an angel, and my strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure."

The boys laughed. "That was first applied to Galahad, wasn't it?" Rick asked.

"Don't know," Angel replied. "But I like it, anyway."

The crates took up little room in the truck. Angel lashed them in, then the three went to the main dining room to meet Tony. They had time for a glass of limeade before the scientist showed up. He came to the table and asked, "Do you know a man by the name of Nast?"

Rick's eyebrows went up. "Yes. Met him this morning. Why?"

"He left a phone message at the desk. Wants you to call him."

Rick rose and went to the lobby, puzzled. What could Nast want? He got the number Nast had left. It turned out to be the freight office at the airport. Then there was a wait while the man was paged. At last he came to the phone.

"Brant?.. Nast here. Look, I'm terribly sorry to impose on such short acquaintance, but I want to ask a favor. My shipment came in, but now I can't get a truck. The one I usually ship on has a regular run, and the driver took off for Baguio without checking. So I'm stranded. If you haven't too much of a load, could I ride along with your Filipino driver? My shipment weighs only two hundred pounds."

Rick considered. Nothing in the truck would be in any danger. The earth scanner was safely stowed in the luggage compartment of the plane.

Nast added, "I'll be glad to pay for the trip. It will save me waiting over until tomorrow."

"No need," Rick said. "We'll be glad to accommodate you. Meet you at the hangar in an hour." He hung up, very thoughtful. Why should his instincts rebel against doing Nast such a small favor? Again he told himself that no harm could come of it. Even if Nast were finger-man for a bandit gang he would get nothing except clothes and ordinary, easily replaced tools. And it was ridiculous to imagine the American as any such thing. True, he was not an educated man, but that meant less than nothing. Education, as such, has little to do with honesty. No, Nast was just an American sailor who had decided to stay in the tropics, and apparently was making a go of it in a business way.

"Let him ride," Rick thought. "It will be okay. He can't do any damage, I guess…"

CHAPTER VI

Chahda Checks In

Rick had expected the flight to Baguio to be a snap, but as it turned out, he had to call for help. Angel Manotok carried the three Spindrifters to the airport in the truck, Rick and Scotty riding behind, then Angel departed for Baguio with Nast and his bundle of silks.

Rick checked in at the Philippine Aeronautics Commission, seeking information on the airport at Baguio. He took one look at the approach pattern and gulped. The approach was between high mountains, down a valley, and then up a mountainside. What made it worse was that one mountain looked much like another on the topographical map.

He exclaimed, "Boy! That's a rugged landing field to find!"

The Filipino official smiled. "You have maybe Navy flying experience?"

"No. Why?"

"Best experience for landing at Baguio is making landings on aircraft carrier."

"Thanks," Rick said. "Any advice?"

"Yes. Go to Philippine Air Lines. Talk to flight dispatcher. PAL flight leaves here maybe two hours. Just right for you. Fly to rendezvous. Pretty soon along comes PAL flight and you follow in."

The advice was good, Rick realized. He could not do better than follow a regular air-line flight into the field. He did as directed, met the pilot of the next Baguio flight, a former Filipino pilot in the United States Air Force, and was told the approximate time the PAL flight would pass the Kennon Road horseshoe curve for the Baguio approach.