three hundred
feet ahead. The field was covered with a low-growing vine of some sort.
He floundered and tripped, then got to his feet again, looking back over
his shoulder. Apparently the pursuers were looking for a way across the
water. He couldn't see them.

He reached the shadow of the coconut grove and stopped, glad of a chance
to wring out his clothes. He did so, a garment at a time, watching his
trail. In a few moments he saw two men emerge from a far corner of the
salt pans and start across. For a moment he turned to run, then an idea
struck him and he grinned.

There was pretty complete darkness. He could see and be seen in the
open. But under the palms he would be invisible from a distance of
twenty yards. He need not run; he could wait until the pursuit passed,
then walk leisurely to the airport, get a cab, and go home. Chahda
probably was already there. He thought he had heard the jeep engine
start. Even if pursued, Chahda could get away all right. The jeep was
faster than the limousine on rough roads.

Scotty's fate was less certain. If two men were after Rick, the other
two probably were after Scotty. They had scattered just for the purpose
of splitting the enemy forces, and to allow Chahda time to get the jeep
underway.

As Rick watched, the two men reached the near edge of the salt pans. One
produced a flashlight and they walked along the edge of the salt pans
shining the light at the ground.

Rick wondered. Surely they weren't looking for foot-prints. Both the
salt pans and the field were perfectly dry. He wasn't particularly
afraid of the flashlight. He would wait until they were close to the
palm grove, then move laterally away from them and lie flat on the
ground. The light couldn't pick him out from any great distance.

The men walked slowly down the edge of the salt pans until they reached
the place where Rick had left the pans and entered the field, then, as
surely as blood-hounds, they followed the route he had taken.

He stared, amazed. How had they tracked him? Then, suddenly, he knew.
Makahiya! The sensitive mimosa! The field was covered with it. And where
he had walked, the mimosa's leaves were rolled up tightly!

Rick turned and ran through the grove, trying to be silent. He used a
beacon from nearby Manila Airport as a guide, and in a moment he saw red
lights on the other side of the grove. It was the field. They were
boundary lights.

He saw instantly that he was in a bad spot.