Rick thought quickly. About a hundred yards toward San Souci there was a break in the foliage that he had almost investigated until he saw that no tracks led into it. He quickly switched into four-wheel drive and swung the jeep in its own length. The lights were closer now. Rick accelerated and found the opening through the jungle scrub. The jeep bounced as he drove into it, then swung until they were behind a screen of palmetto. He killed the engine. Scotty piled out, Rick close behind him. They hurried to the edge of the highway, careful to keep masked by the palmetto, and watched. A jeep emerged from the driveway to Casa Guevara. In the back-scattered light from its headlights they saw that Connel was the driver. He was alone. They watched until his taillights flickered out beyond a bend in the road. [Illustration: _Connel was alone in the jeep_] "Interesting," Rick said. "Does a social call last for less than a half hour? Answer: no, not in San Luz. There's Spanish-style hospitality here, and Connel would have been there for hours." "He came on business," Scotty said slowly. "But what kind of business would he have with the lieutenant governor?" "That," Rick said grimly, "is what we need to find out." CHAPTER VIII The Governor Vanishes Far below the surface of San Luz, white-hot rock, flowing like incandescent molasses, forced its way upward under enormous pressure. Sometimes the magma remained quiet for hours, pulsing slightly like a living thing. Then it would melt its way through to a weakness in the earth's structure, creating a new channel for its upward flow. In one new channel was basaltic rock with a higher moisture content than the magma had encountered before. As the moisture turned instantly to steam, it expanded with sudden violence, and the earth shook with the force of the explosion. Far above the pocket, Rick Brant felt the earth tremble, and shook his head. The temblors were increasing in frequency, although none had been as violent as that first day's earthquake. The boy looked at Scotty. His pal's face was grim. The scientists around the worktable had paused, too, as they felt the earth tremble. Esteben Balgos said quietly, "El Viejo is getting ready. If we are going to act, it must be soon." "Act?" Connel demanded. "How?" Balgos shrugged. "That is what we are here to decide." Rick watched the geologist's face. He was sure that Connel, for reasons unknown, was trying to slow down the project. He was satisfied that the man had stolen both the initial tracings and the dynamite. He also knew that Connel lied. On their return from trailing him to Casa Guevara, the boys had found Connel having a cup of coffee in the dining room and had asked casually where he had gone. He had muttered something about going into Calor for a supply of cigars.