“We might drive him into a corner, and try to force the truth out of him,” War proposed.
The others vetoed his suggestion. “That wouldn’t get us anywhere,” Mr. Livingston objected. “Rhodes controls the natives here. His word is law.”
“Can’t we organize search parties?” Willie asked.
“In this jungle growth?” Jack caught him up. “It would be worse than looking for a needle in a haystack! Without a clue as to Carlos’ hide-out, we’d lose ourselves, and never find Corning.”
“That’s the way it looks to me,” Mr. Livingston admitted. “Another thing, I’m not fully convinced that my friend was seized by bandits. Our first job is to confirm that fact.”
“Rhodes won’t do anything to help us,” Ken said. “Where do we start?”
“While you fellows get settled, I’ll amble around to see what I can learn,” Jack offered.
Once outside the office building, curiosity led him toward the V-shaped pit where stocky Indians labored with crowbar and pick. A vein of beryl lay exposed.
With infinite skill, the laborers shattered the rock, taking care not to smash the calcite or the emeralds. Eagerly, Rhodes examined the exposed gems. But the take did not satisfy him. With an exclamation of rage, he struck one of the workers in the face.
The fellow stumbled backward against the rocks. A small object rolled from his gnarled hand. Only then did Jack realize that Rhodes’ anger had been caused by the native’s thievery.