e on guard all the time. I'm
glad we sent Angel out to guard the plane."

As they passed the hotel desk, the clerk hailed them. "Mr. Brant? A
message for you."

"Probably from Chahda," Rick said. But he was wrong. The note was from
Tony, and it made Rick's eyes widen. He read it aloud:

"'Dear boys. Woke up at dawn with something nagging at me. It broke
through my thick skull while I was having coffee. The Ifugao No Palate
must be Nangolat. It's the name Okola mentioned--his prize student. I
know of no other Ifugao with even a less remote connection. Also, the
shape of Angel's face bothers me. I am going to the airport on a hunch.
Be back about eight, with Angel.'"

Scotty pointed to a wall clock. It was nearly nine o'clock. They had
slept late.

The two boys, without a word, ran for the door. Outside the hotel a
Filipino taxi waited. They jumped in and gasped in one voice: "Baguio
Airport!"

"The chucklehead," Scotty groaned. "Why didn't he wake us up? Why did he
have to go alone?"

"Relax," Rick said, but he didn't really mean it. "It was just an idea
he had that this Ifugao might be tied up with Angel. After all, Okola
recommended Angel." He recognized the fallacy in his argument as soon as
the words were out, but Scotty was already pointing to it.

"Yes. Angel is Okola's boy, and so is this Nangolat. What's more likely
than their being close friends? Angel could be giving Nangolat a helping
hand."

The taxi climbed the winding streets of Baguio, passed the American
military rest camp and the Baguio residence of the American ambassador,
and finally entered the airport.

One quick look around the field showed them that the truck was missing.
The Sky Wagon was waiting by itself. On Rick's quick instructions the
taxi raced to the plane. They got out and took a quick look.

"No sign of damage," Scotty said. "Let's ask at the airport office."

The office was closed. It was operated by Philippine Air Lines, and was
only kept open during the day, starting one hour before the day's first
flight to Manila or from the big city. The first flight on this day was
not until ten thirty.

A pair of workmen with shovels were scratching listlessly at the gravel
on the opposite side of the field. The boys jumped into the taxi and
told the driver to cross the field.

Rick leaned out. "Did you see a truck?"

The men smiled and nodded.

"How long ago?" Rick called.

The men smiled some more, then shrugged.

The Fi