scientific investigation. The situation is precisely as Dr. Brant
outlined it."

"No doubt," Guevara said soothingly. "But surely you realize I cannot
disrupt the economy of the entire island simply to dig a hole. Why, the
people would laugh their heads off. No, senores, I am helpless. You had
better see the governor."

"The governor isn't here and there is no time to lose," Hartson Brant
said flatly. "You must act immediately if the island is to be saved. The
lives of your people are in your own hands."

"Perhaps the governor will return soon," Guevara said. "He will
doubtless believe your story and take action. I regret that I cannot.
And now, if you will excuse me?"

"Then you will not move even to save the island?"

"I do not believe the island is in danger, Dr. Brant," Guevara said
coldly. "Convince the governor--if you can find him. Meanwhile, have the
favor to cease bothering me with your silly tales!"

CHAPTER IX

The Yellow Ground

Governor Luis Montoya could not be located. Neither his family nor his
staff knew his whereabouts. There was great alarm over his unexplained
absence. The police were searching for the missing executive, but with
no success.

Hartson Brant called a council of war and told the scientific group that
his most recent phone call to Guevara had even resulted in a turndown
when he asked for more dynamite. The lieutenant governor evidently was
not content with refusing to help, he was going to obstruct.

"There is dynamite on Trinidad," Hartson Brant said. "Plenty of it. I
made a phone call to a friend at the U. S. Air Base there, and he agreed
to get it for us. Rick, you and Scotty fly over to Port of Spain right
away. The information is written down here." He handed Rick a slip of
paper.

"If you leave now, you can get there before dark, spend the night and
come back in the morning. Bring all the dynamite you can carry, with
caps and a few reels of primer cord. We'll need more wire, too. Get
hopping, now."

"Yes, sir," Rick said. He and Scotty ran to their room for toothbrushes,
stuffed their pockets with extra socks and underwear, and ran to the
parking lot for the jeep.

The weather was fine and clear, and the flight uneventful. When they
landed at the U. S. base they found that Hartson Brant's friend, Colonel
Tom Markey, had arranged for a full load of dynamite, and full gas tanks
for the plane. The boys spent the night at bachelor officers' quarters
at the bas