im and the gun in his hand,
and then I saw his eyes, I knew I was dead. But I did not know why,
because he was my friend."

"Do you know why now?" Scotty asked.

"No. It does not matter. It only matters that he was my friend and he
gave me no chance. He did not fight me, although we are evenly matched.
He struck me from behind. I will go with you now to the Ifugao country,
and perhaps we will find this Nangolat. When I find him I will know what
to do."

Angel's tone was not angry, nor did he sound as though he were
threatening. It was as though he had said that tomorrow it would rain.
But Rick and Scotty decided that they would not like to be in Nangolat's
shoes.

"Did you tell Dr. Okola?" Scotty asked.

For the first time, Angel's eyes fell. "No. I was ashamed to him."

Rick recognized the odd phrase as a literal translation of a Spanish
idiom. He also understood why Angel had not told Okola. The Filipino
archaeologist had entrusted the Americans to Angel's care, and Nangolat
had taken his place. It didn't matter that Angel couldn't help it. He
had lost face. He would not return to Okola until he had made amends.

"If your head was so badly hurt that the doctors thought your skull was
fractured, I'm surprised that they let you out of the hospital," Rick
said.

"They did not let me. I walked out. Then I caught rides until I got into
Baguio a few minutes ago. If you had not been here, then I would have
followed you to Bontoc."

Scotty asked, "Angel, what do you know of Mr. Irineo Lazada?"

Angel spat. "He has power. He has many friends. All his friends are
thieves. Some are mighty thieves, but he is the greatest one of all. The
Secretary, who is his boss, is a fine man, and he will believe no evil
of this Lazada. No one will speak against him so the Secretary and
President can hear, because if such words are spoken, the body of the
speaker will be found floating down the Pasig next morning. This is
understood by all, and those who have proof are afraid. I have no proof,
or I would speak myself. To know is one thing. But to prove is another."

"Do you know an American named Nast?"

"Yes. He is a smuggler. Again, there is no proof. Sometimes the ones who
smuggle for him are caught, but he is not, because he does no smuggling
himself."

"What does he smuggle?" Rick asked. He was searching for some clue that
might be useful.

"Anything. Chinese who cannot get visas to enter the Philippines. He
brings many