The men smiled some more, then shrugged.
The Filipino cab driver spoke to them in Ilokano, the Christian dialect of the province. They answered briefly, smiled at the boys again, and went back to scratching at the gravel. Apparently they were supposed to be leveling the shoulders of the runway. If so, the shoulders would be stooped with age before they were finished.
The Filipino cab driver turned to the boys. "Sir, these men not see truck. They be here since maybe two hours. No truck."
"But they said they did!" Scotty exclaimed.
Rick interrupted, "Ask them if they saw an American, alone."
The driver exchanged quick syllables with the workmen. "They see American. He get in sedan which waiting for him, and go off."
"Who was in the sedan?"
Again the driver translated. "They not see. It on other side of field. Only know maybe three men, maybe American, maybe Filipino. They not know."
"Take us back to the hotel," Rick commanded. "And thanks for interpreting for us."
"They said they saw the truck," Scotty insisted.