"I am going in here to ask a few questions," said Dave, and entered, followed by Phil and Roger. They found in the office a very stout and very bald old gentleman, wearing big spectacles.
"You speak English, I believe," said Dave, politely.
"I speak English, and a dozen other languages, too," said the bald-headed gentleman, peering at them curiously. "Why—er—how's this?" he added, to Dave. "Is this some joke? Why did you shave so clean?"
"Shave?" repeated Dave. His heart gave a sudden bound. "Why do you ask that question?"
"Why, I—er—this is most extraordinary!" ejaculated the man, still staring at the country youth. "I don't understand it."
"Don't understand what?"
"You look so much like a man I know—a Mr. Dunston Porter. Maybe he is some relative of yours?"
"The very man I am looking for!" cried Dave. "Can you tell me where I can find him?" His heart was almost in his throat as he asked the question. Supposing Mr. Dunston Porter had left Sobago Island for parts unknown?
"Find him? I think so. He was here yesterday and said he was going out to the ruins of the old temple on the Pokali Road. He expected to be gone all day on the trip. He'll be back to town by night."
"Then you'll have to wait, Dave," came from Phil.