I was just on the point of quitting when Fallon showed me a letter from Pat Harris who had news of Gatt. 'Jack is making the rounds of Yucatan,' he wrote. He has been to Merida, Valladolid and Vigio Chico, and is now in Felipe Carillo Puerto. He seems to be looking for something or someone -- my guess is someone, because he's talking to some of the weirdest characters. Since Jack prefers to spend his vacations in Miami and Las Vegas I think this is a business trip -- but it sure is funny business. It's not like him to sweat when there is no need, so whatever he is doing must be important.'
'Felipe Carillo Puerto used to be called Chan Santa Cruz,' said Fallon. 'It was the heart of the Mayan revolt,, the capital of the indios sublevados. The Mexicans changed the name of the town when they got on top of the rebels in 1935. It's not very far from here -- less than fifty miles.'
'It's obvious that Gatt's up to something,' I said.
'Yes,' agreed Fallon pensively. 'But what? I can't understand the man's motives.'
'I can,' I said, and laid it all out for Fallen's inspection -- gold, gold, and again gold. 'Whether or not there is any gold doesn't matter as long as Gatt thinks there is.' I had another thought, 'You once showed me a plate of Mayan manufacture. How much would the gold in that be worth?'
'Not much,' he said derisively. 'Maybe fifty or sixty dollars.'
'How much would the plate be worth at auction?'
'That's hard to say. Most of those things are in museums and don't come on the open market. Besides, the Mexican Government is very strict on the export of Mayan antiquities.'
'Make a guess?' I urged.
He looked irritated, and said, 'These things are priceless -- no one has ever tried to put a- price on them. Any unique work of art is worth what someone is willing to pay.'
'How much did you pay for that plate?'
'Nothing -- I found it.'
'How much would you sell it for-?'
'I wouldn't,' he said definitely.
It was my turn to get exasperated, 'For God's sake! How much would you be willing to pay for that plate if you didn't have it already? You're a rich man and a collector.'
He shrugged. 'Maybe I'd go up to $20,000 -- maybe more, if pushed.'
That's good enough for Gatt, even if he is clued up on the gold fallacy -- which I don't think he is. Would you expect to find any similar objects in Uaxuanoc?'
'It's likely,' said Fallon. He frowned. 'I think I'd better have a word with Joe Rudetsky about this.'
'How are things coming along?' I asked.
'We can't get anything more out of the air survey,' he said.
'Now we've got to get down on the ground.' He pointed to the photo-mosaic. 'We've cut down the probables to four.' He looked up. 'Ah, here's Paul.'
Halstead came into the hut, the usual glower on his face He dumped two belts on the table, complete with scab barded machetes. 'These are what we'll need now,' he said His tone implied -- I told you so!
'I was just talking about that,' said Fallon. 'Will you ask Rider to come in?'
'Am I a messenger boy now?' asked Halstead sourly.
Fallon's eyes narrowed. I said quickly, 'I'll get him.' It wasn't to anyone's advantage to bring things to a boil, and I was quite willing to be a messenger boy -- there are less dignified professions.
I found Rider doing a polishing job on his beloved chopper. 'Fallon's calling a conference,' I said. 'You're wanted.'
He gave a final swipe with a polishing rag. 'Right away.' As he walked with me to the hut, he asked, 'What's with that guy, Halstead?'
'What do you mean?'
'He's been trying to order me around; so I told him I work for Mr. Fallon. He got quite sassy about it.'
'He's just like that.' I said. 'I wouldn't worry about it.'
'I'm not worried about it,' said Rider with elaborate unconcern. 'But he'd better worry. He's liable to get a busted jaw.'
I put my hand on Rider's arm. 'Not so fast -- you wait your turn.'
He grinned. 'So it's like that? Okay, Mr. Wheale; I'll fall in line right behind you. But don't wait too long.' When Rider and I walked into the hut there seemed to be some tension between Fallon and Halstead. I thought that maybe Fallon had been tearing into Halstead for his uncooperative attitude -- he wasn't the man to mince his words -- and Halstead looked even more bloody-minded than ever. But he kept his mouth shut as Fallon said shortly, 'Let's get to the next step,'
I leaned against the table. 'Which do you tackle first?'
'That's obvious,' said Fallon. 'We have four possibles, but there's only one at which we can put down the helicopter That's the one we explore first.'
'How do you get to the others?'
