"He would if he believed the island was in danger," Scotty agreed. "But suppose he doesn't? I don't think Connel has the true picture. His time estimate was much longer than yours, and he hasn't been in on many of the discussions."

The three scientists looked at each other. "You know," Riddle said, "Scotty is right. Connel has shown little interest in the magma flux. He may not have a true understanding of the situation at all!"

"It's possible." Hartson Brant nodded. "Quite possible. After all, we borrowed him only to have another experienced man to handle the shots.

His training certainly doesn't qualify him to understand the physics involved. He has concentrated on locating oil deposits, using standard data. This kind of thing is new to him."

"We didn't get him to handle data a.n.a.lysis," Weiss remarked. "There are enough of us who can do that."

Rick picked up his argument again. "If Connel doesn't believe there are only a couple of weeks, he would give the lieutenant governor his views, and he'd be believed, just because Guevara is so greedy he would believe anything that will make him rich. Of course I don't know for sure that Guevara is like that, but he certainly brushed us off, didn't he? And he didn't seem surprised when you told him about the danger."

"The thing that bothers me," Scotty stated, "is why Connel and Guevara haven't started to mine the diamonds."

"It takes organization," Rick pointed out. "Also, it couldn't be done while the governor was around, could it? He'd be sure to get wind of it.

Connel and Guevara have to keep this quiet, or there will be a rush that will make the Klondike look like a picnic."

Scotty nodded. "That must be why they put a guard up there, too.

Probably just one trusted man, who has to make the rounds alone. We were lucky he was on his rounds when we got there, or we'd never have had a chance for a close look."

"Well," Julius Weiss demanded, "what do we do now?"

A sudden earth tremor made the group pause. It lasted only a few seconds.

"Whatever we do, we'd better do it fast," Hartson Brant stated.

"Find the governor," Rick said. "That's the first thing. We can't move unless we have official backing, and we certainly won't get it from Guevara!"

Esteben Balgos walked in, closely followed by Brad Connel. "We placed the instruments without difficulty," Balgos began--and Connel's eye caught sight of the kimberlite samples on the table. The geologist realized instantly that his secret was known, and he knew, too, the conclusions that would be drawn. Among other things, he was guilty of the attempted murder of Ruiz.

Connel bolted for the door.

The geologist was fast, but Scotty was faster. The dark-haired boy charged across the room, then dove headlong. His extended arms caught the fleeting geologist around the thighs, then Scotty's shoulder smashed into him. Connel went down like a tackled ball carrier. Before he could recover, Scotty had shifted his grip and the geologist was helpless in a punishing hold.

The scientists and Rick arrived a split second later.

"Let him up," Riddle ordered. "But keep a grip on him."

Scotty did so, and the geologist glared at the group with angry eyes. He didn't try to bluff; he knew it was useless.

Rick hurried to find the hotel manager, who directed them to a tool closet on the outside of the hotel near the parking lot. It had no windows, a single, small ventilating duct, and only one door. Connel was pushed inside, and the door locked. Hartson Brant pocketed the key.

"He'll have to stay there until we find the governor and arrange for trustworthy policemen," the scientist said. "I'm certain those who have been guarding the dynamite are all right, but we'd better have the governor's word for it."

Rick agreed with the precaution.

While Esteben Balgos was being briefed on the day's happenings, Zircon and Williams arrived and had to be briefed, too. Twice, small earth temblors interrupted the conference.

"Something is happening below us," Balgos said. "I wish we knew exactly what!"

The magma was pushing up relentlessly, melting its way into the channels Williams had marked on his sketch. In one of the channels was a large pocket in which water had collected over the centuries. Perhaps there was enough water to fill a substantial pond, perhaps even a small lake.

There was also room in the porous rock for expansion, because the pocket was not entirely full. The magma neared the pocket, meeting small quant.i.ties of water on its way. Each meeting resulted in a small explosion, and a temblor that was felt far above.

Then--the magma's heat turned the pocket itself to steam. The steam expanded in a mighty explosion that sent great shock waves smashing through the earth.

Rick Brant's chair went over backward and he fell to a floor that was shaking like soft mud under him. He heard the crashing of gla.s.sware and the sounds of furniture falling. And he heard the ominous rumble of the building itself, splitting, cracking, falling.

"Out!" Hartson Brant yelled. "Get outside!"

Rick scrambled to hands and knees and saw that Scotty was bending to pick him up. He waved his pal away and got to his feet, fighting to keep his balance on the shaking floor. He was scared stiff, but far from paralyzed. Nor did he lose his head. He made sure the scientists were on their way before he followed them through the nearest door.

"Back!" Scotty yelled.

The group paused as a section of building cornice crashed to the ground just outside. Dust billowed. Scotty sprang through the opening and looked up.

"Okay," he called. "Come on!"

The Spindrifters poured through the doorway out onto the parking lot.

They were in time to see another section of cornice break loose and fall to the ground. Hotel employees were pouring out, too, gathering in the parking lot beyond the reach of the crumbling hotel.

Rick saw a great gap appear in one wall and waited breathlessly for the wall to fall, but it held. The ground still shook under his feet, and his insides were producing the queasy symptoms of motion sickness. Then the earth steadied again, leaving only a mild temblor that soon vanished.

The group looked at each other, white-faced. The earthquake had been by far the worst yet. There was even some doubt that the hotel was still safe. Rick, seeing the manager busy counting noses to make sure all his employees were out, gasped, "Connel!"

Hartson Brant ran for the tool closet, the others behind him. The scientist reached for the key, ready to let Connel out.

The wall was tilted crazily. The door had sprung wide open.

Connel was gone!

CHAPTER XII

The Rising Magma

The Spindrift group held a council of war in their office-conference room. Inspection of the hotel had shown that damage was not as serious as first expected. The cornices, held only by mortar, had fallen, and the rear exterior wall had lost its brick veneer. The structural part of the wall, while cracked, was strong enough to hold up. The veneer was unsafe, however, and it was agreed that all should stay well away from the area where Connel had been imprisoned.

"We must begin another series of shots at once," Hartson Brant said.

"It's apparent that the magma has moved, and rapidly. But until we get more tracings, we won't know in what direction. Meanwhile, we _must_ find the governor!"

"How?" Rick asked. "How can we find him?"

Hartson Brant smiled at his son. "It seems to me that you and Scotty have acquired considerable reputations as detectives, Rick. I suggest you earn them. Find the governor for us. We will give you Honorario as an interpreter, but it will be up to you. The rest of us must operate as best we can short-handed."

"How about Connel?" Scotty demanded.

The scientist shrugged. "He's the least of my worries. Let him develop his diamond mine. My concern is with this island and the people on it.