He watched as the city came into view. It was a community of small houses located on a series of rivers or canals. The surrounding countryside was given over to rice paddies and occasional coconut groves. This was the first step in the backward trail. Rick had no idea what they might find, but lacking any other course of action they had decided to go back along the _Sampaguita's_ route hoping to pick up a clue. They would stay in Cotabato only as long as the plane stopped, just time enough to meet Tony Briotti's friend, Father Murray, an American missionary priest. As the plane swept in for a landing across the unpaved runway Rick saw the white robes of a priest and knew that Major Lacson's message to the Cotabato constabulary detachment asking that the priest meet the plane had been received. Father Murray, a lean, tanned, sun-helmeted man of youthful appearance, greeted them as they stepped from the plane. Zircon introduced himself and the boys, and the four retired to the shade of a royal palm to talk. "Tony and Howard's disappearance was shocking news," Father Murray commented. "You have no new information about what happened to them?" Zircon told him the little they knew. "We stopped by to see you, hoping you could shed some light on the kidnaping." The priest shook his head. "I haven't the remotest idea. Their visit here was without incident, except for a robbery attempt. I don't even recall any conversation that might be helpful. We talked mostly about their research project." "You mentioned a robbery?" Rick asked. "Yes, the first night they were here. Thieves broke into the _convento_, but by good luck, some of my Christian parishioners who live next door were awake. They hurried to the rescue with guns, and the thieves fled before they found where we were sleeping. My people said they were Moros." Zircon gestured at a group of Moros lounging in the shade of the wooden airport building. "You seem to have quite a few of them here." Father Murray chuckled. "Indeed we do. This is a Moro province. Both the mayor and governor are Moros. Christians are few." Rick noted the tight trousers and bolero-type vests that exposed muscular chests. Two of the Moros wore purple velvet caps. The others wore straw hats of intricately woven design that reminded him of helmets. "Was a Moro guide with our friends?" Zircon asked. "Yes. He seemed like a respectable young man. I saw little of him, however. He stayed with us, but kept to himself, probably bored with our talk. Did you know that Tony and I were classmates in high school?" The three hadn't known it. No wonder Tony and Shannon had gone so far out of their way to visit Cotabato. "That robbery attempt interests me," Scotty said. "Have you ever had such an incident before?" "Never. The Moros let us alone. Besides, the proverbial church mice would seem rich compared with us. We have literally nothing worth robbing."