CHAPTER V

  Dynamite Missing

  "There's only one reason I can think of why anyone would want to stealthe tracings," Rick said. He held on for a moment as Zircon steered thejeep over a bump in the trail. "If word has leaked out about why we'rereally here, maybe someone in the tourist business would steal theevidence to keep business from being ruined."

  Scotty spoke up from the rear seat. "There's one big fat flaw in thatargument, boy. Would anyone care so much about business that he'd wantto stay and be blown up? Who thinks more of business than he does of hisown skin?"

  Zircon chuckled. "There may be such people, but I suspect they'rescarce."

  Rick had to agree. He stared through the windshield at the tail of BradConnel's jeep. The geologist was leading the way to the firing area, andhe was alone. Hartson Brant had tried to assign one of the boys as ahelper, but Connel had balked. He insisted that he did not need ahelper, that he was used to handling charges alone, that he did not wantto take the risk of an accident like that of yesterday.

  "Connel was pretty determined to go it alone," Rick remarked.

  "He's upset over the accident to Ruiz," Zircon pointed out. "He probablyfeels bad because he couldn't see Ruiz when he visited the hospital."

  Connel had gone into town with Dr. Balgos, and had paid a call at theExecutive Mansion. While Balgos talked with Governor Montoya, recreatingthe stolen sketch from memory, Connel had been taken to the hospital byLieutenant Governor Jaime Guevara. The hospital reported that Ruiz wason the danger list, his condition unchanged. He could have no visitors.Apparently both Guevara and Governor Montoya had tried to assure Connelthat he should not be so depressed over what was obviously a freakaccident.

  The trio stopped at their first station, and Connel waved, thencontinued on his way. Rick watched him out of sight, then turned to goto work. He remembered what the geologist had said the night before.

  "Connel figures we have months before the volcano blows," he remembered.

  "What?" Zircon looked up sharply. "How did he arrive at thatconclusion?"

  "From Dr. Williams' sketch."

  "Hmmm." The big scientist checked the detonator thoughtfully. "He musthave figured on a straight upward flow of the magma. But from the shapeof the magma front, I think it's highly unlikely that it will progressin any such regular fashion. Instead, the front probably will increaseerratically, but in a kind of progression. It may double its frontage atapproximately regular periods."

  Scotty scratched his chin. "Double its frontage, huh? What does thatmean?"

  "Maybe four hundred square feet today, eight hundred tomorrow, andsixteen hundred the day after. We won't know the rate of growth, or thetime scale, until we've watched it for a while. But I talked with Balgosand Hartson last night at some length, and their opinion is that weprobably have a couple of weeks, maybe even three or four. But notmonths."

  Rick whistled. "That fast? When will we be sure?"

  Zircon shrugged. "Can't tell. We'll keep shooting on a daily schedule,and perhaps in three or four days we'll see enough growth in the frontto make an estimate. But even that can be misleading. If the magmastrikes a softer area, it can grow even more rapidly. Our best bet willbe to keep a daily watch from now on."

  Rick looked up at the extinct cone of El Viejo. In his imagination hesaw the top blow off in an earth-shaking explosion and millions of tonsof white-hot lava spurt high in the air. Then, when the lava camedown ...

  "We'd better get on the ball," he said. "Almost time for our firstshot."

  "Want to connect up?" Zircon asked.

  "I guess so." Rick had never handled dynamite before, but there was notime like the present to get started. He took sticks from his pocket,then a cap. Zircon handed him the crimping tool. He put a cap in place;then, with infinite care, put the crimping tool in position. He took adeep breath and squeezed. Nothing happened, except that the cap was nowheld tightly.

  Rick let his breath out and grinned. Zircon and Scotty grinned back.

  "When you get real salty," Scotty said, "you'll crimp the caps on withyour teeth."

  "Ha!" Rick said. "And blow my head off?"

  "It's possible," Zircon agreed. "It has happened. My advice is, don'ttry it. I've seen men do it, but it always gives me the shudders. Comeon. Let's plant the charge and lay the wire."

  The shots went off on schedule, and the party returned to the hotel.Later, in analyzing the shots and making a new sketch, Jeffrey Williamsthought the magma front had grown slightly from the previous day, butsince the first tracings were gone, there was no way of being sure.

  David Riddle and Brad Connel walked in as he finished. The two, usingrespirators, had been to inspect the hot-springs area.

  "Nothing new," Riddle reported. "The only sign of activity is a freshoutpouring of hydrogen sulfide. It's bubbling up through the mud, and itcould be a pocket of gas that was suddenly released. The springs won'ttell us much."

  Hartson Brant said thoughtfully, "I'm afraid you're right, Dave.Nothing for it but to keep shooting. And we'll lock up the papers atnight, so we can keep track of what's going on. One thing we'd better dois start a survey of the entire cone, above the level where our shotsgive us information. I'd like to be sure we're not overlooking any newgaps or fissures in the mountain itself. But can we do it with themanpower we have available and still keep shooting?"

  Rick spoke up. "I know how we can help, Dad. Scotty and I can handle ourstations alone now. That will leave Dr. Zircon free for other things.Then, if we change stations with Brad Connel, and he takes the closerones, he can get back a good hour earlier and do other work."

  "No!" Brad Connel exploded.

  Hartson Brant and the other scientists looked at him with surprise. "Whynot?" Dr. Brant asked. "It seems like a sensible suggestion, Brad."

  "It is," Connel said hurriedly. "It's just that ... well, maybe I'mstill too upset over that accident, but I know the terrain now, andthese kids don't. They should stick to the stations where they've beenoperating, and I'll handle my own. It's just that I don't want any riskswhatever. My own part of the mountain is a lot rougher, and they'd becarrying dynamite and caps over pretty bouncy trails. I don't like it. Ithink we should stick to our own stations."

  The geologist obviously felt strongly about it, and Hartson Brantagreed. "Since you feel that way, Brad, we'll let things go as they are.Hobart, can the boys handle the shots?"

  "Sure," Zircon stated. "As long as Rick doesn't crimp caps with histeeth. Of course if he does we'll still get a reading, but we may loseRick."

  "No danger," Rick retorted. "Besides, you wouldn't get a reading becausethe shot wouldn't be timed right."

  Hartson Brant saw that the big scientist was joking. "If Rick feelsadventurous he can kick mountain lions for sport instead. I'm told thereare some on the mountain."

  "Jaguars," Dr. Balgos offered. "Not your typical North American cats.These are much fiercer. They react faster to a kick--if you can getclose enough to kick one."

  Brad Connel laughed heartily. "The boys can lure 'em with catnip," hesaid.

  Rick glanced at the geologist. The laugh hadn't rung true.

  "I suggest we also save time by shooting in the early morning," HartsonBrant added. "That will leave the afternoon for other activities. Jeff,if you can manage to keep your head out of the way of blunt instruments,perhaps you'd like to make a better sketch of the magma front. We canassign the boys as guards, if you like."

  Dr. Williams caressed the bruise on his head. "Not necessary, Hartson.I'll lock my door and keep my face toward the window. But for now, howabout dinner?"

  There was no disagreement.

  After dinner, Rick and Scotty lingered over coffee with Dr. Balgos,Julius Weiss, and Hartson Brant. The others had excused themselves andgone back to their rooms. The boys were trying to learn more aboutvolcanoes, but the scientists had a tendency to get involved indiscussions of some of the finer points of geophysics and long minuteswould pass before Rick or Scotty could bring the
m back to the main pointwith a question.

  In the midst of an interesting discussion of the Hawaiian volcanoes byDr. Balgos, Honorario burst into the dining room and hurried to thePeruvian scientist. Rick couldn't follow the rapid Spanish, but Balgosjumped to his feet, his face white, and translated swiftly.

  "Honorario says all the dynamite is gone!"