“The other units all got the same treatment,” Arv said. “Half a dozen transmitters shot!”
Tom was heartsick as the two hiked back to camp. Its metal shacks glittered in the vivid African sunlight, with the thatch-roofed houses of 128
NOCTURNAL RAIDERS 129
Imbolu visible just beyond. Crewmen and natives stopped work as they saw Tom and Arv returning.
“Trouble?” Bud asked, noting their grim faces.
“Our enemy’s back in business.” Tom reported what had happened. Bud and the others were outraged.
Darcy Creel cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I-uh-don’t like to say this,” he murmured, “but I think it’s my duty.”
“Say what?” Tom stared at him.
“Well, I couldn’t sleep last night, so I got up-and I noticed Luke Auber was gone from camp.”
All eyes turned suspiciously on the hunter. Auber, who preferred to sleep in the open, had spent the night stretched out in a blanket by a campfire.
“Okay, what’s your story?” Bud demanded.
The lean, tough-looking hunter grinned back sarcastically-his cold gray eyes emphasized by his deep tan. “Your friend Creel is quite right. I did leave camp.”
“Why?” Tom asked.
“Noises,” Auber replied. “It could have been those transmitters being smashed, I suppose. Anyhow, I went out to scout around.”
Tom’s eyes kindled. “What did you find?”
“Signs that someone else from our camp had already been out, meeting some strangers.”
Auber’s news provoked skeptical murmurs.
The hunter shrugged. “I didn’t expect you to believe me. But come along and I’ll show you.”
He led the way, about two hundred yards from