Flight to the Lonesome Place
““¿Hola?” he managed to say, pretending to be a house servant. He asked in Spanish, “To whom do you wish to speak?”
“Ron?” spoke a familiar voice. “Ron McHenry?”
In his overwhelming relief, Ronnie almost dropped the receiver. “Captain Anders!” he cried. “Oh, golly, I’m glad it’s you! I didn’t know whether to answer or not. So I just took a chance—”
“I took a chance myself, son. Tried a dozen times to reach you. Thought I’d give the cottage one more ring before I left. Heard you had a squeak getting ashore, but couldn’t get the straight of it from anyone. Anyway, I’ve been doggoned worried about you. I’m in the Mayagüez office now, and if I had an hour to spare, I’d take a run out there. But my vessel’s nearly loaded and I’ll have to be under way shortly. Are you all right? Did you find Black Luis? Have you had any more trouble?”
“We—we’ve all had trouble, sir. We—”
“All of you? Who the dickens is with you?”
“Black Luis and Ana María Rosalita.
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