The young inventor stepped forward, and the fat man shook hands. “I am Sefior Marco Barancos of the Institute of Anthropology and History of Yucatan,”
he announced.
“I’m certainly glad to meet you.” Tom smiled. “We’ve been expecting you for some time.”
Sefior Barancos nodded wearily. “Si, senor, I must apologize for the delay but I was busy at another exploration site.” Taking off his sun helmet, he mopped his forehead. “What a bad time we had getting herel In places this jungle is almost impassable.”
Rodriguez bustled up to quiz the visitor. “So you are Barancos, eh?” he said officiously. “May I see your papers please, senor?”
Barancos opened his brief case and produced several documents. “Here you are. As you can see, the Institute has granted Senor Swift permission to excavate, and these are my official orders to assist him!”
Rodriguez scanned the papers with a scowl. “It appears that everything is in order. Since you have a jeep, my men and I will ride with you to the village where the digging is to take place. Vamonos! Let us go!”
THE BURIED TEMPLE 153
Barancos flicked his mustache. “We will leave when I am ready and no sooner,” he stated flatly. “My driver and I are very tired. First we must rest and have something to eat.”
Tom and his friends suppressed grins. Evidently Senor Barancos was not a man to be bullied. “You can relax and have a shower aboard our plane if you like,” Tom offered, gesturing toward the Sky Queen.
The archaeologist and his driver gratefully accepted. Both were amazed when they saw the comfortable lounge, sleeping quarters, and galley of the huge three-decker ship.