“I’m glad you came,” he told the four. “How soon can you be ready to leave here?”
“We can’t pull out too fast to suit us,” Jack replied for the group. “Not after what just happened.”
He then related the unfortunate incident of the beach and mission, and their close call with the unruly mob.
“That settles it,” Mr. Livingston said tersely. “Captain Carter is behind this, I’m convinced! Once we shake him, I’ll breathe easier. Pack your duds, fellows, and we’ll be off.”
“You mean we’re leaving right now?” Ken asked.
“Just as soon as we can get off. I’ve already arranged for two cars to take us to Cuya where the road ends. All our equipment, medicines and trading goods have been loaded. So throw your personal stuff together, and we’ll be on our way.”
Thrilled that the long period of inactivity at last was to come to an end, the Scouts soon had their gear ready. Within an hour, the hotel bill had been settled and two wretched-looking touring cars were at the door.
“Not too modern, boys,” Mr. Livingston said with a smile as the Scouts piled in. “But the tires are sound. With luck, we’ll reach Cuya by late tonight.”
Without incident, the two cars chugged through the crooked village streets and out into open country. Mr. Livingston, Willie and War rode in the lead automobile, while Ken and Jack ate dust in the vehicle behind.
Speed was impossible. Sections of the highway had been paved, but the many rough patches made driving hazardous.