hile the loud-speakers blasted
at the troops below. They watched the plane, they pointed, some ran out
for a better look. But when the governor pleaded with them to hurry to
Calor to help save the people of the island, nothing happened.

"If El Viejo started smoking, they'd move fast enough," Rick said
bitterly. "But then it would be too late. They just don't believe there
is any danger, and maybe they're not sure it's you. I guess no one has
ever given them orders from the air before."

"They are simple people," the governor agreed. "I think most of them
have never heard of a volcano. They don't even know what an eruption is.
How can they be excited? If I ever succeed in getting good schools here,
this may change. But it won't help us now."

Rick considered. It would do little good to repeat the announcement to
the soldiers at the hotel. He wondered if Guevara and Connel were
somewhere below, and with that thought he turned toward the diamond
pipe.

"Let's see if we can do any good with the truckmen," he suggested. "Tell
them the trucks are essential to the safety of their families."

The governor tried, while Rick held the plane in in a tight circle over
the blue ground. Again, there was interest in the flying loud-speaker
plane itself, but the message made no impact. Then Rick noticed tiny
spurts of fire from one edge of the diamond field and cold sweat started
on his forehead as he suddenly realized what they were.

"They're shooting at us!" he exclaimed, and gave the plane the gun,
taking evasive action as the distance widened.

[Illustration: _"They're shooting at us!" Rick exclaimed, and gave the
plane the gun_]

"I saw," the governor said wearily. "It was not the troops. It was the
peons. Our friend Guevara is down there, I think. But he need not be
afraid of our effect. We have had none."

Rick had seldom felt so frustrated. He was tempted to call the San
Luzians a stupid bunch of cattle, but he realized the governor had
stated the case accurately. They just didn't understand the danger. What
would they understand?

His lips formed the word. "Diamonds!" At least they would understand
treasure.

"Sir," he said excitedly, "we can break this up, at least enough so we
can start collecting data again. If we tell them the whole story,
they'll at least understand that Guevara is after great treasure.
They'll flock to the diamond field and disrupt the operation, and we can
move back in to some of the shot