ty as the old man seemed to be. "I think we'd better be
armed," Scotty said.

Ricardo Montoya had met them in the island's other police cruiser. He
said, "Wait," and hurried to the car. Pulling down the rear seat, he
disclosed a gunrack. From it he drew two riot guns, automatic shotguns
with short barrels.

"Can you use these?" he asked.

Scotty nodded an affirmative. "Both Rick and I have fired automatic
shotguns on a skeet range. These can't be much different."

"They are not. The safety is behind the trigger guard. There is no shell
in the chamber now, but there are nine in the magazine. Go with God,
senores."

The governor's car with its police escort rolled through the streets of
Calor, en route to the roadblock at the hotel road. Rick and Scotty held
the riot guns, both hoping that they would not be needed.

The governor chatted calmly, as though this were simply a routine
sightseeing trip. "Few Americans come to San Luz. We had hoped that
perhaps an advertising campaign might bring more of you to our island.
We have much to offer, you will agree. Have you tried our swimming yet?
I appreciate there has been little opportunity for pleasure."

The boys answered politely, but neither could really get into the swing
of the conversation. It took a kind of experience they did not yet have,
to talk of casual things while en route to what might be genuine danger.

The governor's secretary called over his shoulder, "There is the
roadblock, senor. How shall I approach?"

"Drive up to it, Juan. Be very casual."

Rick fingered the safety on his riot gun. He could see dark figures at
the barricade fence.

The car drew to a stop. The governor said quietly, "Perhaps you had
better stand by the car. Do not let your guns be seen. If necessary, you
will know what to do."

One boy got out on either side, leaving the car doors open. The doors
shielded them and the riot guns. The governor got out and walked briskly
to the barricade and spoke in Spanish.

It was light enough so Rick could see the men at the barricade clearly.
He realized suddenly that they were not dressed as the soldiers had been
earlier; these men seemed to be farmers. But they had rifles, and two
hand grenades hanging from their belts.

He couldn't follow the exchange in Spanish. The governor was talking in
a quiet voice with one man who was better dressed than the rest. The
man's voice was cultured, but mocking in tone.

Rick heard the secretary