The Pirates of Shan Part 6

"Who could those men have been? They must have been pretty fierce to frighten the Bagobos. That headman doesn't look like a man who scares easily."

"I haven't the glimmer of an idea. Kidnaping two scientists makes no sense at all."

"True. But it must have made sense to the kidnapers."

Scotty didn't comment further. After a while Rick reached under the seat and drew out Shannon's quiver. He had wrapped it in a plastic bag in which his trousers had been returned by the dry cleaner.

The quiver was of soft leather, and made to be slung on the back. It was compartmented for three kinds of arrows. Rick drew one out and saw that it was a blunt type for hunting small game. Next to the blunt ones were razor-sharp broadhead arrows. The third variety was smaller broadheads.

There were a dozen of each.

On the back of the quiver were two zippered pouches. In the first Rick found four new bowstrings and beeswax for waxing them, plus a small file and a whetstone for keeping the broadheads sharp. In the other compartment were two sets of finger cots, or protectors, and a stiff leather arm guard. He slipped a protector, made like sections of glove fingers, on the first three fingers of his right hand. A size too large, but it would do. The arm guard would be all right when he adjusted it.

The bow was in its own special compartment. Rick checked and saw that it was undamaged. It was in two sections, the upper limb made to be fitted into the handle, which was permanently attached to the lower limb. It was an excellent bow, not as heavy as some, but a deadly weapon in the hands of a good shot. It pulled fifty pounds at twenty-eight inches draw.

Rick slipped the quiver back under the seat. He planned to carry it when necessary, so that he, too, would be armed. He was a better than average bowman. It was one of the few sports in which he could nearly always beat Scotty, thanks to his own apt.i.tude and Shannon's teaching. He noticed suddenly that the seat belt light had flashed on. He tightened his belt as the plane descended into Cotabato.

He watched as the city came into view. It was a community of small houses located on a series of rivers or ca.n.a.ls. The surrounding countryside was given over to rice paddies and occasional coconut groves.

This was the first step in the backward trail. Rick had no idea what they might find, but lacking any other course of action they had decided to go back along the _Sampaguita's_ route hoping to pick up a clue. They would stay in Cotabato only as long as the plane stopped, just time enough to meet Tony Briotti's friend, Father Murray, an American missionary priest.

As the plane swept in for a landing across the unpaved runway Rick saw the white robes of a priest and knew that Major Lacson's message to the Cotabato constabulary detachment asking that the priest meet the plane had been received.

Father Murray, a lean, tanned, sun-helmeted man of youthful appearance, greeted them as they stepped from the plane. Zircon introduced himself and the boys, and the four retired to the shade of a royal palm to talk.

"Tony and Howard's disappearance was shocking news," Father Murray commented. "You have no new information about what happened to them?"

Zircon told him the little they knew. "We stopped by to see you, hoping you could shed some light on the kidnaping."

The priest shook his head. "I haven't the remotest idea. Their visit here was without incident, except for a robbery attempt. I don't even recall any conversation that might be helpful. We talked mostly about their research project."

"You mentioned a robbery?" Rick asked.

"Yes, the first night they were here. Thieves broke into the _convento_, but by good luck, some of my Christian parishioners who live next door were awake. They hurried to the rescue with guns, and the thieves fled before they found where we were sleeping. My people said they were Moros."

Zircon gestured at a group of Moros lounging in the shade of the wooden airport building. "You seem to have quite a few of them here."

Father Murray chuckled. "Indeed we do. This is a Moro province. Both the mayor and governor are Moros. Christians are few."

Rick noted the tight trousers and bolero-type vests that exposed muscular chests. Two of the Moros wore purple velvet caps. The others wore straw hats of intricately woven design that reminded him of helmets.

"Was a Moro guide with our friends?" Zircon asked.

"Yes. He seemed like a respectable young man. I saw little of him, however. He stayed with us, but kept to himself, probably bored with our talk. Did you know that Tony and I were cla.s.smates in high school?"

The three hadn't known it. No wonder Tony and Shannon had gone so far out of their way to visit Cotabato.

"That robbery attempt interests me," Scotty said. "Have you ever had such an incident before?"

"Never. The Moros let us alone. Besides, the proverbial church mice would seem rich compared with us. We have literally nothing worth robbing."

The flight was called and the Spindrifters shook hands with Father Murray. He waved as they boarded the plane and prepared to take off.

"Not very helpful," Professor Zircon remarked, "although I'm glad we had a chance to meet Father Murray."

Rick agreed, but added, "Doesn't it strike you as pretty strange coincidence that thieves should try to rob him for the first time, on the night Briotti and Shannon arrived?"

Scotty saw at once what Rick meant. "You think they might not have been thieves? That it might have been a kidnap attempt that failed?"

"It's a possibility," Rick pointed out.

Zircon leaned across the aisle. "Consider the implications of what you're saying, Rick. Cotabato is a long way from Davao. Why would a gang chase our friends across Mindanao?"

"Why were they kidnaped?" Rick retorted.

"Obviously, we don't know. If we accept your idea, do we a.s.sume it was the same gang that traveled from Cotabato to Davao? Or, were both groups local people?"

Scotty swallowed. "If they were local people, that has to mean some kind of well-organized syndicate with members in just about every port!"

Rick nodded. He had seen at once the implications of his idea. "It could mean that."

Scotty sank back into his seat. "But whatever it means, it gives no explanation of why Tony and Shannon were kidnaped."

"We'll find the explanation somehow," Rick said, with more a.s.surance than he felt. He added grimly, "We've got to!"

CHAPTER VI

The Man in the Red Fez

The famous tropical port of Zamboanga lived up to its reputation as an exotic place. As the taxi carried the Spindrifters from the airport past the waterfront area, Rick saw bright-colored sails mixed with the drab steel of cargo ships. There were many Moros, but Christian Filipinos seemed to be in the majority.

The taxi took them to Bayot's Hotel, a rambling, picturesque affair only two stories high, noted for the best food in the Sulu Sea region. The hotel was almost overgrown with orchids and lush tropical creepers.

As the three checked in, Zircon began asking questions of the man at the desk. "You had Dr. Briotti and Dr. Shannon as guests, I believe?"

"Yes. They stayed here for two days. I read of their disappearance.

Incredible."

"Can you tell us if they had any visitors?"

"I recall none."

Rick asked, "Did anyone show unusual interest in them?"

"Not that one could notice. You realize, Americans are not an unusual sight. There are a number who live here."