Scotty saw what Rick had in mind. "You mean we have to convince them we're no longer fast?"
"That's it. There must be pirate spies here in Jolo. Why not plant a story that one engine is bad?"
"Very good!" Zircon exclaimed. "We could do it by trying, very publicly, to get some engine part. Which one, Scotty? It has to be one we won't be able to get."
Scotty thought it over while the others watched him anxiously, then suddenly he snapped his fingers. "Got it. A new timing gear. I'll be surprised if there's one nearer than Manila. I can juggle the spark, so the engine sounds as though the timing were off. That will make it more convincing."
Zircon rose. "We'll do it. Chahda, you've seen the town. Can you stand by while the rest of us make a quick trip? We must see the constabulary, and I have a purchase to make."
"Gladly do," Chahda assented. "First I go and get suitcase. This time I stay with you until we find our friends."
The Hindu boy got his luggage and a paper-wrapped package from the dock guard's hut. Rick and the others left him to guard the Swift Arrow.
The main street of Jolo started only a few hundred feet from the dock area. Wooden stores and houses predominated, but there were a few of ancient stone. The people were almost entirely Moro, with only a sprinkling of Christian Filipinos. They saw no other Americans, although a few lived in the town.
"Wish we had more time here," Zircon remarked. "After all, Jolo is the seat of Islam in this part of the world."
"Of what?" Scotty asked.