know Escabar is Satara's laundryman and the guy was babbling nothing but nonsense."
"The Tierra Seca desert is two hundred miles from here," Red told him. "Long way to send your dirty linen."
"Aw, you know what I'm getting at. Sounds like a wild-goose chase."
"I don't agree," asserted Red. "I'm going to suggest to Ace that we split up on this one. Prof, you and Ace and June go ahead into the jungle to track down Zarpa. Rocky and I can—"
"Hold your horses, you road-show Howdy Doody," boomed Rocky. "Who says I'm going to join you on this snipe hunt?"
"Prof and Ace have to go into the wilds, especially Prof since underwater fooling around is his specialty," said Red. "I'd prefer not to go up against Escabar alone; hence you tag along."
"Like a bodyguard." Rocky's forehead was devoted to enormous furrowing. "I tell you, buddy, I ain't about to let little Juney traipse off into the boonies with Prof."
"Rocko, that lass can fell trees with one chop of the hand, tie knots in the tails of jaguars," outlined Prof, "break the bones of—"
"Quit the razz," said Rocky. "I don't—"
"What did you find out while we were dodging the bursting bombs?" Red quickly asked Prof.
"I have a few contacts here in the capital, built up largely through my underwater fooling around."
"We know, we know," said Rocky. "Enough shell, get to the nut inside."
"An apt metaphor," said Prof, "especially coming from one with a brain the size of the aforementioned peanut. Okay, from what I can gather, Chanza has a good rep. So he probably was on the square with what he told us last night; isn't trying to foul us up or lead us into a snare. His view of the political situation in Ereguay is a mite optimistic. There is a strong possibility the military is plotting to drop him. One of the big honchos in the army, and probably the chief plotter against Chanza, is a lad name of General Francisco Cuerpo."
Red stroked his chin. "What about our pal, Zarpa the lake monster? Any information about him?"
Prof said, "My friends inform me he doesn't exist. It's all a lot of superstitious rumor."
"If so," asked Red, "who's clawing those people to death?"
"You've put your finger on the nub of the problem," said Prof.
"May I have your orders?" inquired the waiter who'd arrived beside their table.
Eyes on his folded fists, Rocky said, "I'll have the salad."
They left the Pan American Highway at a few minutes after eleven in the morning. The ambush didn't occur until nearly an hour later.
The farther along the Challenger van rolled on the weaving side road, the greener everything got. Jungle rose up all around, a hundred different kinds of trees and plants, a hundred shades of green. Dotted with intensely red flowers and leaping splashes of gold and orange which turned out to be parrots. Monkeys there were, too, flickering through the high branches.
In the passenger section of the van Prof was slouched in a seat, pouring himself a cup of iced tea from a silver thermos. "I might as well confess, June," he was saying to the pretty blonde beside him.
"We only hear confessions on Saturday afternoons from two to four." Her eyes were on the unfolding Ereguayan jungle outside.
"Nonetheless," continued Prof, "I want you to know I arranged this whole trip, saw to it Red and Rocky got
sent elsewhere, for the express purpose of being alone with you in the wilderness."
"What about Ace?" She nodded toward Morgan, who was driving the vehicle.
"Frankly, I anticipated," said Prof after a sip of tea, "this van being more gadget ridden than it is. Figured Ace had designed it to drive itself, and that he'd stay in San James devoting himself to a series of siestas."
"I'd hate to have to try you for mutiny," said Ace.
"Sorry, chief, didn't know you were awake." Prof rested his cup on his upthrust knee. The three of them were now wearing their familiar Challenger uniforms, royal purple jump suits with the symbolic hourglass emblazoned across the chest. "What I have in mind,
"The Tierra Seca desert is two hundred miles from here," Red told him. "Long way to send your dirty linen."
"Aw, you know what I'm getting at. Sounds like a wild-goose chase."
"I don't agree," asserted Red. "I'm going to suggest to Ace that we split up on this one. Prof, you and Ace and June go ahead into the jungle to track down Zarpa. Rocky and I can—"
"Hold your horses, you road-show Howdy Doody," boomed Rocky. "Who says I'm going to join you on this snipe hunt?"
"Prof and Ace have to go into the wilds, especially Prof since underwater fooling around is his specialty," said Red. "I'd prefer not to go up against Escabar alone; hence you tag along."
"Like a bodyguard." Rocky's forehead was devoted to enormous furrowing. "I tell you, buddy, I ain't about to let little Juney traipse off into the boonies with Prof."
"Rocko, that lass can fell trees with one chop of the hand, tie knots in the tails of jaguars," outlined Prof, "break the bones of—"
"Quit the razz," said Rocky. "I don't—"
"What did you find out while we were dodging the bursting bombs?" Red quickly asked Prof.
"I have a few contacts here in the capital, built up largely through my underwater fooling around."
"We know, we know," said Rocky. "Enough shell, get to the nut inside."
"An apt metaphor," said Prof, "especially coming from one with a brain the size of the aforementioned peanut. Okay, from what I can gather, Chanza has a good rep. So he probably was on the square with what he told us last night; isn't trying to foul us up or lead us into a snare. His view of the political situation in Ereguay is a mite optimistic. There is a strong possibility the military is plotting to drop him. One of the big honchos in the army, and probably the chief plotter against Chanza, is a lad name of General Francisco Cuerpo."
Red stroked his chin. "What about our pal, Zarpa the lake monster? Any information about him?"
Prof said, "My friends inform me he doesn't exist. It's all a lot of superstitious rumor."
"If so," asked Red, "who's clawing those people to death?"
"You've put your finger on the nub of the problem," said Prof.
"May I have your orders?" inquired the waiter who'd arrived beside their table.
Eyes on his folded fists, Rocky said, "I'll have the salad."
They left the Pan American Highway at a few minutes after eleven in the morning. The ambush didn't occur until nearly an hour later.
The farther along the Challenger van rolled on the weaving side road, the greener everything got. Jungle rose up all around, a hundred different kinds of trees and plants, a hundred shades of green. Dotted with intensely red flowers and leaping splashes of gold and orange which turned out to be parrots. Monkeys there were, too, flickering through the high branches.
In the passenger section of the van Prof was slouched in a seat, pouring himself a cup of iced tea from a silver thermos. "I might as well confess, June," he was saying to the pretty blonde beside him.
"We only hear confessions on Saturday afternoons from two to four." Her eyes were on the unfolding Ereguayan jungle outside.
"Nonetheless," continued Prof, "I want you to know I arranged this whole trip, saw to it Red and Rocky got
sent elsewhere, for the express purpose of being alone with you in the wilderness."
"What about Ace?" She nodded toward Morgan, who was driving the vehicle.
"Frankly, I anticipated," said Prof after a sip of tea, "this van being more gadget ridden than it is. Figured Ace had designed it to drive itself, and that he'd stay in San James devoting himself to a series of siestas."
"I'd hate to have to try you for mutiny," said Ace.
"Sorry, chief, didn't know you were awake." Prof rested his cup on his upthrust knee. The three of them were now wearing their familiar Challenger uniforms, royal purple jump suits with the symbolic hourglass emblazoned across the chest. "What I have in mind,
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