“I say, Buddy,” he spoke into the tube and Bob took the other end.
“What say?”
“If the esteemed Lieutenant Morrow was on mischief bent he will manage somehow to get word ahead of our coming. By the way, how did you happen to run into him?”
“We were just coming out of the store and he spoke to us. Said he could tell that we were traveling by plane because we had on the helmets, and he wanted to know if we could carry an extra passenger. He told us his tale of woe and finished up by saying that he was desperate to get back to his company because the Marines are busy lads right now, besides it would go hard with him if he didn’t put in an appearance on schedule,” Bob explained.
“I see. Well, you know Dad hopes to forestall any crookedness that may be afoot when he lands in Cuzco. It’s a big deal they are putting over, the parents are involved heavily financially, and if a few of those lads who are in a hurry to get things cleaned up found out that Dad is flying to the scene of the massacre-to-be they might try to clip our wings; do something to keep him away until it’s too late,” Jim announced.
“Yes, that’s clear, but who the heck knew we started?”
“Search me, but if Morrow was trying to put one over on us between Miami and Cuba, he’ll let his boss know that we didn’t fall so well for his sob stuff. They’ll work fast, do something else.”
“Do you believe Morrow was not on the level really?”
“I don’t know whether to believe it or not, but it’s just as well not to give him a chance.”
“The more I think of him, the fishier he gets. Got a plan to upset his apple cart in Havana?” Bob inquired.