CHAPTER V
Manotok the Mighty
At breakfast the next morning Rick and Scotty were subjected to anamused 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 littlestiff. I noticed that he sat down gingerly, and that there is a verypronounced bruise on the side of his jaw. Hands would indicate that hehas been playing with a rather rough cat, except that I happen to knowhe was scrambling around in some cadena de amor.
"Scotty is also wearing a mouse under one eye, perhaps a little moreprominent 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 youdo to an enemy?"
The boys grinned back. "Can't tell you until we catch an enemy," Rickreplied. "Actually, most of my terrible wounds came from falling down."
"Same here," Scotty agreed. "And that sharp instrument you mentioned wasthe 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 assumethat he was an Ifugao--wanted in my room last night?"
"The only answer I can think of is the obvious one," Rick answered. "Heprobably thought we have a map or something showing the location of thegolden skull. He wanted it."
"I accept the hypothesis only because I haven't a better one," Tonysaid. "How about you, Scotty?"
Scotty shrugged. "Can't buy it. But on the other hand, I don't have anytheory. Wish Sherlock Holmes were here."
"We could use him," Briotti admitted. "Well, what's the program fortoday?"
"Off to Baguio," Rick replied. "But first, we'll have to rent or buy atruck. The plane can't carry us plus our gear, and we'll need the truckto take our stuff into the mountains. Scotty and I can do that. What areyour plans?"
"There's an American anthropologist here I'd like to see. He'sinternationally known. Name of J. Walter McGowan. I made a tentativeappointment yesterday. I'm sure he will have some information on theIfugaos that will be of interest. Probably Okola has included in hispapers on the subject everything McGowan knows, but I'd like to talkwith him just to get the feel of things, so to speak."
"Then why don't you do that this morning?" Rick suggested. "We'll getthe truck, load the gear, and get ready to take off."
"Wonder where that Filipino Angel is?" Scotty asked. "Wasn't he supposedto be here this morning?"
"I don't think Okola specified a time," Tony replied. "And the morningis still pretty young."
That was true enough, Rick thought. Besides, he had the impression thatthe Filipinos, although they followed Western customs, had the FarEasterners' disregard of time.
"If the Angel doesn't arrive, one of us will have to drive the truck toBaguio," he said. "I had hoped he would take the truck, then we threecould fly."
Scotty asked, with deceptive casualness, "Tony, what do you think of Dr.Okola?"
Tony answered promptly. "A first-rate scientist and a distinguishedgentleman besides. Why?"
"Do you trust him?"
"Implicitly. We're not dealing with a stranger here, Scotty. Okola'sname has been known to me since I first became interested inarchaeology. We have many mutual friends, and he has been very helpfuland courteous since this project was first proposed. Yes, I trust him."
"That's good," Scotty said, "since we're buying the services of thisAngel purely on his say-so. We'll have to trust Angel. We have nochoice."
"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 notto be overtrustful in far places among strangers, but he agreed withTony's estimate of Okola. The man, he believed, was just what he seemedto 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, anunusual but delicious breakfast dish. "I don't _dis_trust him," he saidfinally. "That's negative, but the best I can do. He's not the type ofindividual who appeals to me very much, but without further evidence I'dhesitate to mark him untrustworthy."
"I have a hunch," Rick said. "My hunch says that Mr. Lazada is crookedas a helical coil. I wouldn't trust him anywhere, any time."
Scotty agreed. "I would have said he's no straighter than the cuttingedge of a saw. And he's just about that sharp, too. Trouble with you is,Tony, you're too civilized. You always see the best in everything,including people."
"Don't you?" Tony asked mildly.
The boys chuckled. Of course they did, and Tony knew it. But on anexpedition like this, their suspicions came to the fore and theyautomatically distrusted everyone. Lack of distrust had caused them muchtrouble on other expeditions, and had come close to costing them theirlives.
The headwaiter approached. "There is a man to see Dr. Briotti. Shall Ihave him wait?"
"That must be Okola's man," Tony said. "No, please bring him here."
The three watched with interest as the headwaiter went to the door andreturned leading a short, dark man.
Rick examined him with interest. At first glance the Filipino seemedquite short, as so many of his race are. Then Rick's discerning eyes sawthe breadth of his shoulders. And he saw that the man wasn't really veryshort; he only seemed to be because of his extraordinary shoulder width.
The man was dressed simply but neatly in typical Filipino style withwhite trousers and a white shirt. The shirt had no tail, but was cutsquare at the bottom like a sport shirt. The collar was sport-shirtstyle, too, worn open, and disclosed a muscular throat.
The man bowed slightly. "Dr. Briotti?"
"I am Briotti." He indicated the boys. "Mr. Brant and Mr. Scott. Andyou?"
"I am Angel Manotok, at your service. Dr. Okola said that you needed adriver, guide, and general handyman. He said that he had recommendedme."
"Yes. Please sit down. Will you have breakfast?"
"Some coffee, perhaps. I have already had breakfast."
Angel Manotok had a strong, square face. Rick thought that he lookedvery much like an American Indian. His hair was thick and very black,and freshly cut into a sort of crew cut.
"You will want to see my papers," Angel said.
He produced a wallet and extracted several documents. The Spindriftersexamined them. There was a Philippine driver's license, a United StatesArmy driver's license indicating that the bearer was qualified to drivemilitary vehicles, an honorable discharge from the Philippine Scouts,which had been a part of the United States Army, and a certificate fromthe Philippine Public Health Service certifying that Angel Manotok, asof three weeks ago, had been X-rayed and found free of tuberculosis.
"So you were in the Philippine Scouts," Scotty remarked.
Angel grinned, showing strong white teeth. "I have been many things,including a scout. I have also been a lumberjack in Zambales Province, agold miner in Baguio, and a farmer in Mindanao."
"You speak remarkably good English," Tony commented.
"Thank you, sir. You will notice from my discharge that I was a sergeantin the Philippine Scouts. I had the advantage of American militaryschools. I also attended college--the Ateneo de Manila, which hasAmerican Jesuit priests as teachers. I did not graduate, unfortunately,but I did learn your language rather better than most Filipinos."
Rick liked Angel at once. He nodded at Tony and Scotty, and they noddedback. Tony at once began discussing salary and general arrangements withAngel.
When they had reached an agreement, Angel grinned. "Now I can tell you.Since Dr. Okola was very anxious for me to go, I was prepared to workfor you just for food. But a salary is much better."
"Much," Tony agreed. "We prefer it that way, too, although I appreciateyour loyalty to Dr. Okola."
"Where is your baggage?" Rick asked.
"I left i
t outside at the desk. I haven't much to carry along. Just workclothes and a few tools."
"Where can we get a truck?" Scotty inquired.
"What kind would you like?"
Rick answered. "An Army six-by-six, if possible."
"That can be done. Rent or buy?"
"Which do you suggest?"
"Rent. Let me do it for you. I can bargain much better than you can."
"Fine," Rick agreed. "We'll go with you and watch."
Angel shook his head. "Better not. If the dealer knows the truck is forAmericans, the price will go up. If he thinks it is for a Filipino, theprice will be low. Let me get a truck--I'll be sure it's a good one--andmeet you here."
Rick considered. "No, let's make another plan. I want to spend a littlemore time checking my plane. Suppose you get the truck, then meet us atHangar 18 at the airport. We can come back here and load after lunch.Then we can fly to Baguio while you follow with the truck."
"Have you ever driven to Baguio?" Scotty asked.
"Many times. It takes between six and seven hours, depending on thetraffic. Some parts of the road aren't very good, and traffic piles up."
"Then if you leave at noon, you should be in Baguio at dinnertime."
"Yes. Shall I go now? I will need a hundred pesos. That is for a depositon the truck."
Tony opened his billfold. "Let's see. That's fifty dollars. Is Americanmoney all right?"
Angel smiled. "American money is always all right, everywhere. I willget 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. Angeltucked 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 offalone with our stuff," Rick said.
"Except for the SS," Scotty added, referring to the earth scanner. "Youheard what he said about the road to Baguio? That's a delicate gadgetand we don't want it banged around too much."
"You've got a point," Rick agreed. "Suppose we take it with us in theplane?"
"Good idea." Scotty rose. "Tony, we'll go on to the airport and meet youhere about eleven thirty. Okay?"
"That will give me plenty of time." The scientist hesitated. "I knowyou'll take care of yourselves. Remember that we have a sniper after us.Not to mention an Ifugao with no palate. Incidentally, I suspect thatour friend Angel has a little Igorot or Ifugao blood. Did you noticethat 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 Filipinoswith the pagans. Also, Angel may have some Chinese blood, which wouldaccount for the unusually high cheekbones and rather flat face. Hedoesn't have the Mongoloid eye fold which gives the appearance of slanteyes, but that means nothing. Many Filipinos with Chinese blood lackit."
"What are the Filipinos, anyway?" Scotty asked as they walked to thedoor.
"Originally, the Filipinos were of almost pure Malay blood. But therewas much intermarriage with the Chinese and the Spanish, and now,particularly around Manila, _mestizos_, which is what persons of mixedrace are called, are very common."
Tony hailed a taxi at the door and the boys went to their room. Rick hadput a thread across the bottom of the casement window. It was notdisturbed, nor was the chair he had carefully placed so that anyonecoming through the door would move it slightly. There had been noprowlers while they were at breakfast.
The boys opened the case containing the earth scanner and lifted out theleather carrying cases which contained the electronic controls andamplifiers and the delicate scanning tube. They carried the cases downto the lobby and took a cab to the airport.
The ride was pleasant, since the way to the airport was along DeweyBoulevard, which edged Manila Bay. Far across the bay they could see theAmerican Naval Station at Cavite. And to the north was MarivelesMountain on Bataan Peninsula.
Here and there the sail of a banca dotted the brown water. In thebancas--outrigger canoes--were fishermen. A large part of the Filipinodiet was fish.
The highway branched away from the bay finally, and a short time laterthey arrived at the modern airport, once the American Air Corps base ofNichols Field.
The Sky Wagon was as they had left it, apparently undisturbed. But theywere not taking anything for granted. Rick and Scotty checked the planeover 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 closecropped sandy hair. He wore a yellow T shirt under a white linen coat.His trousers were gray rayon, and his footgear was openwork sandals. Helooked comfortable and cool, even in the broiling Philippine sun. Rickjudged him to be about forty years old.
"Mind if I look?" the man asked.
"Not at all," Rick answered politely. He hesitated, then introducedhimself and Scotty, who had come around from the other side of theplane.
"My name is Nast. James Nast. You must be two of the scientific party Iread 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. AnthonyBriotti, with Mr. Richard Brant and Mr. Donald Scott, had beenentertained by the Assistant Secretary of the Interior at dinner priorto their departure to Mountain Province to search for primitiveartifacts. Dr. Okola, of the University of the Philippines, localadviser 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 liveon publicity. Please don't let me intrude. I came to the airport to meeta shipment from Hong Kong, but the plane is late, so I've been wanderingaround sightseeing."
"Are you in business?" Scotty asked.
"Yes. Import-export. I import Chinese silver, both alloyed and pure, andhave it fabricated by Filipinos. Mostly into filigree work. Then Iexport it to America. I also import Siamese and Indo-Chinese silks whichare made into all sorts of things and then exported to America. I wasexpecting a silk shipment this morning. My agent in Hong Kong gets itfrom 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 sowell 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 toBaguio."
"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 themountains and very cool. You'll sleep under blankets tonight, and sowill I." Nast wiped his face, too. "This shipment goes by truck toBaguio, 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 PampangaProvince. I carry a gun to discourage interest in my shipments."
Now that he had mentioned it, Rick could see the bulge of the shoulderholster. But it was a good job of tailoring and he realized that thelinen jacket had been made to conceal the shoulder gun.
"The plane from Hong Kong won't be in for at least a half hour," Nastsaid. "Mind if I stick around? It's a pleasure to talk to Americans. Ideal mostly with Filipinos ou
t in the _barrios_, the small towns wheremy 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 toNast while he worked to check every possible point of sabotage. He likedtalking about the plane. It was something to be proud of. And Nast wasan interested listener who apparently knew something about planes.
After the check up, they rolled the plane outside and Rick warmed up theengine. Then, while he was testing the radio, Angel Manotok arrived witha truck. Rick immediately shut the engine off and got out, curious tosee what Angel had found. Scotty was already looking it over, with Nastan 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 believehim. The tires are in good condition and there are two spares."
The truck was a typical Army vehicle with double rear wheels, both frontand 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 youleave the plane at Baguio?"
"We're not sure," Rick said. "Depends on whether we find a landing placeat Bontoc. Have you been there?"
"A few times. There are no decent fields. But you could land on theroad. It's black top, and there are few power lines or phone lines. Ithink 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 checkthe 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 theairport guards go by pretty often, and besides, the plane has been allright 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 togo off if the plane was so much as touched. Rick set it, then locked thedoor of the plane. Removing the key from the lock activated the circuit.Then they closed and locked the hangar door. The plane would be allright.
Nast was talking to Angel Manotok in Tagalog. Angel was replying, butnot 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 mecan't speak English, often as not. Well, good hunting. Perhaps we'llmeet 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 isclosed in half the time from fog. Good luck."
The boys got into the truck with Angel and he drove out to the mainhighway.
"What were you and Nast talking about?" Scotty asked.
Angel took his time about answering. "He just wanted to know when wewere going to Baguio. I think he was making small talk. Maybe he wantedto 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 reallysaid? He decided that it wasn't of any importance. Perhaps Nast was oneof those Americans who always talk to people of other lands in ahalf-insulting way. Rick had met them--and mighty poor advertisementsfor 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 eachwas a hefty load for two men.
"Stop bragging," Scotty said. The jocular tone of his voice made aplayful challenge of the words.
Angel took the challenge. He went to the largest crate, swung it easilyto 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 forhis above-normal strength. Rick lent a hand and they carried the cratealong behind Angel, who walked as though he had a feather pillowbalanced on his head.
"Manotok the Mighty," Scotty said, and there was genuine awe in hisvoice.
Angel pronounced his name in the Spanish style, _Ahng-hel_, but now heshifted to the English pronunciation and said, "I'm an angel, and mystrength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure."
The boys laughed. "That was first applied to Galahad, wasn't it?" Rickasked.
"Don't know," Angel replied. "But I like it, anyway."
The crates took up little room in the truck. Angel lashed them in, thenthe three went to the main dining room to meet Tony. They had time for aglass of limeade before the scientist showed up. He came to the tableand 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 gotthe number Nast had left. It turned out to be the freight office at theairport. Then there was a wait while the man was paged. At last he cameto the phone.
"Brant?... Nast here. Look, I'm terribly sorry to impose on such shortacquaintance, but I want to ask a favor. My shipment came in, but now Ican't get a truck. The one I usually ship on has a regular run, and thedriver took off for Baguio without checking. So I'm stranded. If youhaven't too much of a load, could I ride along with your Filipinodriver? My shipment weighs only two hundred pounds."
Rick considered. Nothing in the truck would be in any danger. The earthscanner 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 waitingover until tomorrow."
"No need," Rick said. "We'll be glad to accommodate you. Meet you at thehangar in an hour." He hung up, very thoughtful. Why should hisinstincts rebel against doing Nast such a small favor? Again he toldhimself that no harm could come of it. Even if Nast were finger-man fora bandit gang he would get nothing except clothes and ordinary, easilyreplaced tools. And it was ridiculous to imagine the American as anysuch thing. True, he was not an educated man, but that meant less thannothing. Education, as such, has little to do with honesty. No, Nast wasjust an American sailor who had decided to stay in the tropics, andapparently 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...."
The Golden Skull: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story Page 5
