Part 5 (2/2)

”Maybe,” agreed Kamuka. ”I think they shoot anaconda, or big sucuria would not let Luiz go so easy.”

”That's another reason why Luiz claimed he shot it,” added Biff. ”We might come across the anaconda and find the bullet marks.”

Shortly afterward, the boys found a chance to repeat those opinions to Mr. Brewster, who added a few points that they had overlooked.

”Luiz couldn't possibly have brought the gun from his pocket, as he claimed,” stated Mr. Brewster, ”because the snake was already coiled about his body. For that matter, he could not have drawn his knife, either.

”However, from the clumsy way he showed us the gun and put it back in the wrong pocket, you could tell he had never handled it before. In contrast, he was smooth and quick with his knife, which is obviously his customary weapon.”

One question still perplexed Biff.

”That other camp is a good way off, Dad,” Biff said, ”yet we heard the anvil strokes before we started out. How come you didn't hear the gunfire later?”

”Urubu may have made the first strokes closer by,” replied Mr. Brewster. ”The anvil sound is also sharper than a gunshot and should carry farther. That is prob- A TRAITOR STRIKES 73.

ably why they chose it as a signal. Kamuka did well to detect it.”

That evening, Biff was glad there had been time to build the thatched shelter, for a tropical dew had begun to settle, almost as thick as a dripping rain. It was less damp beneath the shelter, where Biff and Kamuka had slung their hammocks.

Mr. Brewster, however, had inflated a rubber mattress and had placed it near trie fire, stating that he would use a poncho to keep off the moisture. From his hammock, Biff watched his dad arrange small logs and palm stalks as spare fuel. As he closed his eyes, Biff could hear his father talking to Luiz, who was standing close by.

”I will watch the fire tonight,” announced Mr. Brewster. ”You have been hurt. You need rest more than I do.”

”But, Senhor,” objected Luiz. ”Suppose you fall asleep-”

”I am sure to wake up at intervals. I always do. But you must get some sleep, Luiz. We need you to guide us to Piedra Del Cucuy. You are sure you know the way?”

”Most certainly, Senhor. But it may take longer than you expect.”

A pause-then Mr. Brewster asked bluntly, ”Why?”

”Because the shortest way is not the best way,” returned Luiz. ”We might meet floods, or streams 74 .

where the piranha may attack us. They are very dangerous fish, the piranha-”

”I know,” interrupted Mr. Brewster impatiently, ”but we have no time to waste.”

”You are meeting someone at Piedra Del Cucuy?”

”Yes,” replied Mr. Brewster. ”A man named-” He caught himself, then said in a blunt tone: ”I won't know our plans until we get there. We will continue on up the river. That is all that I can tell you.”

”Don't you have a map, Senhor?”

Biff opened his eyes at Luiz's question. He saw his father start to reach into his inside pocket, then bring his hand out empty. Shaking his head, Mr. Brewster said: ”No, I have no map. Go get some sleep, Luiz. You will need it.”

Biff glimpsed Luiz's face as the sneaky guide turned from the firelight. Beneath the hatbrim, Luiz wore that same ugly smile that showed his satisfaction. Obviously, Luiz was planning his next move, probably for tomorrow.

When it came, his father would be ready for it, Biff felt sure. Soon Biff drifted into a fitful sleep from which he awoke at intervals. Sometimes he heard the crackle of the fire and decided that his father must have thrown on a log and then gone back to sleep. For, each time, Biff saw the figure of Mr. Brewster covered by the rubber poncho, near the pile of logs that had become much smaller during the night. It A TRAITOR STRIKES 75.

must have been the fourth or fifth awakening, when Biff saw someone move into the firelight's flicker.

It was Luiz. He crept forward. Crouched above the quiet form, Luiz thrust his hand downward as if to reach into the sleeper's pocket.

The figure under the poncho seemed to stir. Luiz recoiled quickly and sped his hand to his hip. Before Biff could shout a warning, Luiz had whipped out his long knife into sight and driven it straight down at the helpless shape beneath him.

CHAPTER IX.

The Shrunken Heads WILDLY, Biff tumbled from his hammock to the soggy ground. Coming to his hands and knees, he started forward just as another figure sprang into the firelight, too late to halt Luiz's knife. The newcomer grabbed Luiz's shoulders and spun the little man full about. For a moment, Luiz poised his blade as though planning to counter the attack.

Instead, he uttered an unearthly shriek, as though he had seen a ghost. Biff was startled, too, but his cry was a glad one. Etched against the firelight, Biff saw his dad's face looking down at Luiz.

Tom Brewster himself was the man who had interrupted Luiz's deadly work. The figure under the poncho, Biff realized, must be a dummy.

As the two men struggled for possession of the knife, they kicked the dummy apart with their feet. Suddenly Luiz managed to wrench free and dashed off into the jungle.

THE SHRUNKEN HEADS 77.

Mr. Brewster didn't bother to start after the terrified guide. But Hal Whitman came rus.h.i.+ng from the shelter waving a revolver. Mr. Whitman fired a few wild shots in the direction that Luiz had taken. The crackling of jungle plants came back like echoes, indicating that the gunfire had spurred Luiz's mad flight.

”That's enough, Hal,” laughed Mr. Brewster. ”The fellow is so badly scared he won't stop running until he reaches Serbot's camp.”

”And the more he runs,” returned Mr. Whitman, ”the more difficulty he will have finding it in the dark. Well, if Luiz gets lost in the jungle, he won't talk to Serbot.”

”I don't think it matters much, Hal. Luiz has already told Serbot all he knows.”

”Except that we found out his game. Now he will tell that to Serbot, too-if he finds him.”

By the flickering firelight, Biff saw his father's face take on a troubled expression.

”You're right, Hal,” decided Mr. Brewster grimly. ”I hadn't thought of that. It would be better to catch Luiz and take him along with us. It's probably too late now, but it may be worth a try.” Mr. Brewster turned to Jacome. ”Call Luiz, and see if he answers.”

Jacome gave a long call: ”Luiz! Luiz!” Faintly, like a faraway echo, a voice responded: ”Ajudo! Ajudo!”

In the firelight, Biff and Kamuka exchanged startled glances. Both had the same sudden thought, 78 .

but it was Biff who exclaimed, ”The quicksand! Luiz must have taken the same path that we did this afternoon!”

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