g. Good luck."

The boys got into the truck with Angel and he drove out to the main
highway.

"What were you and Nast talking about?" Scotty asked.

Angel took his time about answering. "He just wanted to know when we
were going to Baguio. I think he was making small talk. Maybe he wanted
to show off his Tagalog."

"Was his Tagalog good?" Rick asked.

"Yes. Very good."

Angel said no more, and Rick wondered for a moment. What had Nast really
said? He decided that it wasn't of any importance. Perhaps Nast was one
of those Americans who always talk to people of other lands in a
half-insulting way. Rick had met them--and mighty poor advertisements
for America they were.

They parked the truck behind the hotel and took Angel to their room.
"We'll get help and have the crates carried down for you." Rick said.

Angel grinned. "Why bother? You two take one and I'll take the other."

The boys looked at each other. True, the crates weren't huge, but each
was a hefty load for two men.

"Stop bragging," Scotty said. The jocular tone of his voice made a
playful challenge of the words.

Angel took the challenge. He went to the largest crate, swung it easily
to his head, and balanced it with one hand. "Let's go," he said,
grinning.

Scotty stepped forward, blood in his eye, and tackled the second crate.
He got it up, but it was obvious that it was too much of a load even for
his above-normal strength. Rick lent a hand and they carried the crate
along behind Angel, who walked as though he had a feather pillow
balanced on his head.

"Manotok the Mighty," Scotty said, and there was genuine awe in his
voice.

Angel pronounced his name in the Spanish style, _Ahng-hel_, but now he
shifted to the English pronunciation and said, "I'm an angel, and my
strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure."

The boys laughed. "That was first applied to Galahad, wasn't it?" Rick
asked.

"Don't know," Angel replied. "But I like it, anyway."

The crates took up little room in the truck. Angel lashed them in, then
the three went to the main dining room to meet Tony. They had time for a
glass of limeade before the scientist showed up. He came to the table
and asked, "Do you know a man by the name of Nast?"

Rick's eyebrows went up. "Yes. Met him this morning. Why?"

"He left a phone message at the desk. Wants you to call him."

Rick rose and went to the lobby, puzzled. What could Nast want? He got
the number Nast h