Scotty nodded. "Looks like it. Do we follow?"
"We sure do. What reason would he have for going to the station without dynamite?"
"None that I know of. Let's go."
Rick turned the jeep into the trail and sped along it as fast as the ruts allowed. As they reached their third station with no sign of Connel, Scotty spoke suddenly. "Suppose we find him? How do we explain why we're following him?"
Rick considered. He rejected a casual trip as explanation. Connel wouldn't buy it.
"We can park the jeep in the jungle," he said finally. "It will be well hidden. Then we can go on foot. If we see him coming, we can take to the bush. We'll be invisible a few feet away."
The jeep was driven into the area where their shots had been set off. It was invisible from the trail. The boys left it and started hiking.
It was hard going. The heat and humidity were both high, and they were sweating before a quarter mile was covered. The film of perspiration seemed to attract insects, too, and before long the pests were driving them to distraction. Rick brushed futilely at the shining swarm of gnats around his head. "I'm not sure it's worth it," he said grimly.
"Neither am I," Scotty agreed. "But we've started. Let's keep plugging."
They reached the first of Connel's shot stations without a sign of the geologist. It was much like their own, a small clearing with the ground torn by the dynamite.