He had done that for a good reason, Chuck surmised. It was obvious why he wanted his niece with him. Apparently he was a human being, after all, and was concerned over her welfare.
But why Dr. Dumar?
Chuck felt this was the key. If he knew why Masterson had taken the geologist with him, he’d also know why Masterson had pulled his escape at all.
“Gardel,” he called, “wait up.”
Gardel stopped in his tracks and waited for Chuck to join him. He pulled his lips back over his teeth and said, “What is it, Superboy?”
“Don’t get smart, Gardel,” Chuck warned.
“Tough guy,” Gardel snarled. “A real tough guy.”
“Sure,” Chuck said sarcastically. “I chew spikes and spit out carpet tacks.”
“A comedian, too.”
“Why did your boss leave the party?” Chuck asked suddenly.
“Because he…” Gardel snapped his jaws shut and allowed a smile to trickle across his thin mouth. “How do I know why he left?” he amended. “You think I’m a mind reader?”
“He must want to hunt dinosaurs pretty badly,” Chuck said.
“Yeah, that’s it. He wants to hunt a little.”
“Then why does he need Dr. Dumar with him?” Chuck snapped.
“Maybe the little man is a good hunter, too. Or maybe Dirk wanted a guide. Maybe he…”
“A guide,” Chuck said slowly.
Gardel turned and glanced at him, pivoting his head back quickly. “Or maybe he took the doc along as protection. Who knows?” He smiled his thin smile and added, “He’s got him, though, and that’s tough.
“It’s tough, all right,” Chuck agreed. “The authorities will think it’s very tough. And Masterson may find prison a little different from what he imagined.”
Gardel laughed out loud, his thin nose jutting up into the air, his lips pulling back over large teeth. “You got to get him first,” he said.
“We’ll do that, Gardel. We’ll do that.”
They lost the trail shortly after that.
The footprints ended when a large bed of slate claimed the land. The slate stretched for as far as the eye could see, covering the ground with gray monotony. It was spread about in a crude semicircle, and Masterson could have turned anywhere on the bed to plunge into the undergrowth. It would take them at least a half-hour to walk the perimeter of the semicircle. By that time Masterson could be a good distance away.
“This isn’t so good,” Dr. Perry said.
Pete nodded his red head. “That’s putting it mildly, Doc.”
Gardel said nothing. He simply smiled.
“Let’s split up,” Chuck said. “Pete, Dr. Perry, cut clear across the bed to the other side. Then start back, walking the perimeter and looking for sign on the edges. Arthur and I will start on this end and we’ll work toward the middle, too. Whoever spots tracks first will call the others.” He paused and looked intently at Gardel. “You can come with Arthur and me, Gardel.”
“Sure,” Gardel said. “Why not?”
Chuck watched Pete and Dr. Perry start across the slate, heading for the other end of the semicircle.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” Chuck said to Arthur.
“It may be easier than you think.”
“How so?”
“I’ve been on a lot of hunting expeditions in the ten years I worked for Masterson. I can track like an Indian scout.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Chuck said, as they started around the semicircle, shoving aside the plants on the perimeter so that they could study the ground for tracks.
“That was the one thing I really enjoyed,” Arthur said. “The hunting. Even before I started working for Masterson, I used to hunt in the woods back home. I was pretty good.”
“Really?”
Arthur nodded, thinking back to the past. “As a matter of fact, I was offered a job with an expedition that was heading for Africa just about the time Masterson came along. The job with Masterson sounded better, so I took it.1” He shook his head. “Brother, did I make a mistake.”
“Well, you had no way of knowing.”
They were still threading their way around the slate bed, painstakingly studying every inch of the ground.
“Sure,” Arthur said, “but I often wonder what would have become of me if Masterson hadn’t come along at just that time. The man about to hire me was a wonderful old guy. As a matter of fact, when he died, he left a great deal of money to one of the boys he’d hired for that expedition. I remember reading about it in the newspapers at the time. A grand old guy.”
“What was his name?” Chuck asked.
“J. D. Daniels. Have you ever heard of him?”
Chuck stopped short in his tracks. “Why he was a multimillionaire, Arthur. Brother, I’ll say you made a mistake.”
Arthur agreed, nodding his head. “Well, there was no way of knowing at the time. Sometimes, though, I wish that Masterson had never existed, that I’d never met him.”
“You’d still be in the gutter if it hadn’t been for Dirk,” Gardel cracked, a malicious grin on his face.
“Gardel,” Chuck warned, “didn’t you learn a lesson the last time you shot your mouth off at Arthur?”
“He doesn’t bother me.” Arthur said. “I feel sorry for him, that’s all.”