She drew back with a gesture of distaste. “I can’t bear bananas!”
“I suppose one would get tired of them,” commented Jack politely. “Still you find this plantation interesting enough to visit?”
The woman shrugged. “Why not?” she returned. “A friend of my husband’s is a foreman here.”
Jack was quite certain that Mrs. Rhodes again was lying. He believed that she had come to the plantation either to keep the Scout party under surveillance or to meet Ferd Baronni.
It seemed reasonable to believe, however, that the latter had journeyed to Santa Marta on sudden impulse, and had sought the woman after learning that she was absent from her hotel. Their close association deeply worried him. Why were the pair so determined to prevent the Scout party from reaching the Last Chance mine?
As if reading his thoughts, Mrs. Rhodes questioned abruptly: “You’re still planning on your trip to the emerald mine?”
“That’s our intention, unless we hear from Appleby Corning.”
“You’ll find the trip most uncomfortable,” Mrs. Rhodes said, fanning herself with a green banana leaf. “There is no road. Only a trail. The temperature extremes—intense heat in the valleys, and freezing cold in the mountains, is most trying.”
“We don’t mind hardships,” Jack replied, amused by the woman’s attempt to discourage them. “We’re used to them.”
“I’m sure you are,” the woman returned. “Well, if I can’t persuade you to give up the trip, let me advise you to leave your valuables behind.”