"Same here," Scotty agreed. "And that sharp instrument you mentioned was the edge of a tin can."
Tony spooned succulent orange-colored papaya melon with appreciation. "Have either of you figured out what our Ifugao friend—let's assume that he was an Ifugao—wanted in my room last night?"
"The only answer I can think of is the obvious one," Rick answered. "He probably thought we have a map or something showing the location of the golden skull. He wanted it."
"I accept the hypothesis only because I haven't a better one," Tony said. "How about you, Scotty?"
Scotty shrugged. "Can't buy it. But on the other hand, I don't have any theory. Wish Sherlock Holmes were here."
"We could use him," Briotti admitted. "Well, what's the program for today?"
"Off to Baguio," Rick replied. "But first, we'll have to rent or buy a truck. The plane can't carry us plus our gear, and we'll need the truck to take our stuff into the mountains. Scotty and I can do that. What are your plans?"
"There's an American anthropologist here I'd like to see. He's internationally known. Name of J. Walter McGowan. I made a tentative appointment yesterday. I'm sure he will have some information on the Ifugaos that will be of interest. Probably Okola has included in his papers on the subject everything McGowan knows, but I'd like to talk with him just to get the feel of things, so to speak."
"Then why don't you do that this morning?" Rick suggested. "We'll get the truck, load the gear, and get ready to take off."
"Wonder where that Filipino Angel is?" Scotty asked. "Wasn't he supposed to be here this morning?"