Senhor Brewster. I enjoyed my trip with him. You are interested in rubber, Senhor?”

“What else,” asked Mr. Brewster, “would bring me to Manaus?”

Serbot’s response was a noticeable increase of his perpetual smile. He bowed as he made the parting comment:

“Perhaps we have mutual interests, Senhor.”

Outside the café, Mr. Brewster spoke reflectively.

“Perhaps Serbot and I do have mutual interests,” he said. “In something bigger than rubber. Something like gold.”

They climbed into the jeep, and Mr. Brewster drove past the Amazonas Theater, the magnificent opera house that had been built when Manaus was a boom town in the jungle. Mr. Brewster mentioned that to Biff as they went by; but Biff realized that his father was thinking of something else. Finally, he said:

“I am not surprised that you suspected Serbot. He strikes me as being very shrewd. I am doubtful of his friend, Big Pepito, too.”

“Then maybe Serbot sent Pepito to steal the map!”

“Don’t jump to conclusions too quickly, Biff.” Mr. Brewster smiled as he spoke. “I still can’t understand how Serbot could have learned so much. Nobody knew my plans except Mr. Stannart.”

“What about the directors of the Ajax Company, Dad?”

“Once they agreed, they gave Stannart full say. Our dealings were confidential. Stannart sent me funds to buy safari equipment which I shipped here to Manaus ahead of me.”

“Mr. Serbot talked about safaris on the plane trip.”

“So you told me, Biff.” Mr. Brewster frowned. “I’m beginning to think that somebody found out about our plans here in Manaus. Pepito, for instance, could have learned of the safari shipments and sent word to Serbot. But Hal Whitman should have suspected something and informed me.”

“Hal Whitman? Who is he, Dad?”

“The man who received the shipments here. He assembled them secretly in a boathouse a few miles up the river. Later, he loaded all the supplies and took them far up the river to an old landing above Santa Isabel. He is waiting there for us to 

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