When they approached the group, Biff addressed the nearest native, who was huddled by the wall, his chin buried deep in his red bandanna neckerchief and his gaze turned toward the river.
“Oiga, amigo,” began Biff. “Soy buscando un viejo son pelo bianco—”
Biff was saying that he was looking for an old man with white hair, but he got no further. The slouchy native came to his feet and spun about with a snarl.
As Biff dropped back, he found himself staring into the vicious, hawkish face of Urubu!
CHAPTER XIX
Partners in Crime
“Look out, Biff! He may have a knife!”
The warning came from Kamuka as the Indian boy grabbed Biff’s arm, hauling him away from Urubu. But there was no way for them to dodge, except toward the wall, as Urubu was between them and the corner of the building.
Then, from around that very corner came a limber figure, a thin man clad in dungarees and a big sombrero, whose tight fists moved like pistons as they jabbed at Urubu’s face. Jolted backward, Urubu dropped the knife that he was pulling from beneath his shirt. Warding off a few blows, he turned and ran wildly for a landing below the riverbank.
The boys turned to thank their rescuer, who had lost his big sombrero and was stooping to pick up the wide-brimmed hat. They were amazed when they saw his smiling face and white hair. The man who had routed Urubu was Joe Nara.
“The way to spot snoopers,” advised Nara, “is to go snooping for them. Nobody would know old Joe Nara in this outfit, particularly with his white hair out of sight.”