The Golden Skull Part 11

"That what the yelling was about?" Tony asked.

"Scotty yelled," Rick said. "Mosquito bit him."

"That mosquito is going to get swatted when he least expects it," Scotty promised. "Come on, Chahda. Spin us a yarn."

"Okay." Chahda sat cross-legged on Rick's bed. "You know I went to Manila Hotel. For three days I waited. Then one day I sit next to famous a.s.sistant Secretary of Exterior."

"Interior," Rick corrected. "Lazada."

"Yes. Soon he is met by a friend who sits with him. This friend is not known to me then. But I listen. I hear Lazada's friend say that soon come Americans who will desec--What is ruin religious things, please?"

"Desecrate," Tony supplied.

"Yes. Do that to sacred Ifugao things. This friend begs Lazada not to give permit."

The three Spindrifters were sitting on the edges of the beds now, concentrating on every word.

"Friend says Americans will dig up rice terraces, looking for gold.

Sacred objects of gold will be carried away, and earth-c.o.kes and drafts will fall on Ifugao people."

"Earthquakes and droughts," Rick corrected.

"That is what I said," Chahda nodded. "Lazada objects that these are not real gold things, and the friend says they are. Real gold. Much gold.

All very sacred. Again he begs Lazada not to allow this sacker-ledge."

"Sacrilege."

"Yes. Anyway, Lazada says Americans have much influence. He does not know if he can stop them. But he will try. I do not believe he talks truth. His looks do not make me trust him. You know?"

The boys knew.

"When friend leaves, I think I follow him. He starts out, then he meets American on steps of hotel. I get close and listen. He says to American, how you like to add gold to your smuggle into China?"

Rick whistled. He had heard that smuggling gold from the Philippines into China was big business.

"American says plenty like. Where is gold? Lazada says we not talk here, you come to my house tonight--no, tomorrow. Got big official dinner tonight, and there is plenty time. Then I decide I must know more. So I go to Number One Sikh in Manila and tell him he has new strong boy to be guard at Lazada's, after I make sure Lazada has Sikh guards. This is arranged. No trouble."

Chahda always made it sound dramatic but easy, Rick thought. He doubted that it was as simple as the Hindu boy made out.

"American comes, and I am not able to hear much of talk. But I get American's name. You know him. Since this morning."

"Nast!" Rick exclaimed.

"Yes. Also comes to Lazada's house the Filipino friend, but he is not Filipino. He is Ifugao. About him I do not know, except that he is called No Palate. Or something like that. I would like to follow him, but I think better I stay with Lazada. Good thing, too, because Nast comes again, and this time I listen. Lazada tells Nast first to meet you, so you will know and trust him. Then Nast is to get in touch with No Palate. Lazada says he has told No Palate that he cannot keep permit from you, but that American friend will help keep you from digging up Ifugao sacred things."

Chahda shrugged. "What am I to do? I stop being Sikh. My Number One Sikh buddy-chum helps me meet Igorot who used to be scout for constabulary.

Name of Dog Meat. Fine name, huh? Dog Meat will help. I hire him. Need helper named Dog Meat for sure." He grinned.

The boys chuckled, and Tony explained, "That is actually a very honorable name. Dog meat is a ceremonial meat among the Igorots."

"Best reason I've heard for hiring anyone in a long time," Rick commented.

Chahda continued, "This morning I try to catch you at Manila, but reach hotel too late, then reach airport too late. But I do some watching, and I find out man with same describing as Nast has been visiting with you at airport. You already gone. Nast already gone. Dog Meat and me, we take next PAL plane to Baguio. When get here, there is your Sky Wagon.

At least I think it is yours, because it is like you told me in your letter. So I come here, but not come directly to room, because I think maybe better I stay undercover. So climb tree and come in window."

The Hindu boy made a gesture of "all done." "Next time you see me, I be Ifugao. Or maybe Igorot. Maybe even Kalinga." He named another related pagan group. "Will decide when I see what is to be did. But already have name." He smiled blandly. "Name myself for Scotty."

Rick moved out of the line of fire.

Chahda bowed. "Meet Cow Brain."

Scotty reached for him. Tony and Rick ducked.

CHAPTER VII

Igorot Country

Rick and Scotty awoke the next morning with a feeling of well-being.

After the heat of Manila the cool air of Baguio had caused them to sleep like logs. Also, things appeared to be going well, and Chahda finally had contacted them.

The contact had been a brief one. Chahda had gone, promising to keep in touch with them as best he could. The Hindu boy was on the trail of James Nast, hoping that by keeping close watch he could antic.i.p.ate, and perhaps prevent, any action Nast might try to take against the Spindrift party.

"Dog Meat," Rick said, grinning, as the two knocked on Tony Briotti's door. "It may be a fine old ceremonial name in this part of the world, but to me it's just a meal for Dismal."

Dismal was the Brant family pup. When Rick thought of the pagans eating dog, he always thought of Dismal served up as a roast, and the thought made him ill. He had decided that he might admire the fine qualities of the Igorot and Ifugao people, but the mental image of Dismal among the poor, beaten mongrels in the dog market would always keep him from being really fond of them.

Tony failed to answer the door. "Probably gone down to breakfast already," Scotty said. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Chahda won't have much trouble finding Nast. Baguio isn't very big and there aren't very many Americans. Wonder what Nast will try to do?"

Rick shrugged. "How can we guess? There are so many things about this part of the world we don't know. He might have two dozen slick tricks up his sleeve. The best thing we can do is be on guard all the time. I'm glad we sent Angel out to guard the plane."

As they pa.s.sed the hotel desk, the clerk hailed them. "Mr. Brant? A message for you."

"Probably from Chahda," Rick said. But he was wrong. The note was from Tony, and it made Rick's eyes widen. He read it aloud:

"'Dear boys. Woke up at dawn with something nagging at me. It broke through my thick skull while I was having coffee. The Ifugao No Palate must be Nangolat. It's the name Okola mentioned--his prize student. I know of no other Ifugao with even a less remote connection. Also, the shape of Angel's face bothers me. I am going to the airport on a hunch.

Be back about eight, with Angel.'"

Scotty pointed to a wall clock. It was nearly nine o'clock. They had slept late.

The two boys, without a word, ran for the door. Outside the hotel a Filipino taxi waited. They jumped in and gasped in one voice: "Baguio Airport!"

"The chucklehead," Scotty groaned. "Why didn't he wake us up? Why did he have to go alone?"

"Relax," Rick said, but he didn't really mean it. "It was just an idea he had that this Ifugao might be tied up with Angel. After all, Okola recommended Angel." He recognized the fallacy in his argument as soon as the words were out, but Scotty was already pointing to it.