Chahda drew his bolo. "Bamboo cuts easy. Two swings and box falls into our hands. We run like wild men, they not catch."
Rick objected. "The skull is too heavy. We couldn't run with it easily. They'd catch whoever had it."
Scotty nodded. "And the box is too small for two people to get a good grip on it. We'd fall all over each other."
"Could be," Chahda agreed, but he was not convinced. He said that there must be some way to get the box.
Rick studied the house as though the sight of it might give him inspiration. The house didn't, but something else did. "The purloined letter!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Remember the story by Poe? No one found the letter because it was in the most obvious place—so obvious that no one looked." He whispered his daring plan.
Scotty chuckled. "I'll even forgive you for biting me in Baguio, for that one."
Chahda salaamed. "Mighty is the mind of Rick. I glad you on my side. Let's go."
They sneaked back to the house and made preparations for the audacious recovery of the box. Chahda tested the edge of his bolo, reached up with it, and measured the length of his stroke and where the blade would touch. It would work. He looked at the boys expectantly.
Rick knew that bamboo was remarkable stuff. It had great strength against nearly everything except a sharp blade applied across its grain. But it had to be cut cleanly. Also, Chahda would have to make two cuts before the box could drop through the floor. On the first cut, Lazada and Nast would be moving. They could make it down the stairs before the second cut was made.
He shook his head at Chahda. Not yet. He motioned to Scotty and together they examined the stairs, which ran down the outside of the framing. Scotty gestured toward the boxes stacked at one corner of the house. They examined them. The boxes were full of a special kind of sea shell used commercially in the Philippines. They were fairly heavy.