"What we do now?"

Rick saw the camels disappear behind a dune, then emerge again. It was a pretty, romantic picture, but one he couldn't appreciate.

"We wait," he told Ha.s.san. "We wait, and I guess we hope. There's nothing else we can do."

CHAPTER XV

The Cat Comes Back

The hands of the control-room clock crept up to five. Scotty asked an Egyptian technician to watch the tapes for a moment, then went to the telephone and called the hotel.

It wasn't like Rick to be late. Scotty thought his pal might have decided to take a nap and had failed to wake up in time, but he had little faith in the idea. Rick wasn't a nap taker. More likely, something had happened at the museum.

The hotel desk rang the room without success, and to Scotty's question, the clerk answered that he had not seen Mr. Brant or Ha.s.san since morning.

Scotty debated calling the museum, and decided against it. He went to Parnell Winston, who was supervising the transfer of information from the Sanborn tracings to graph paper.

"Rick hasn't shown," Scotty said bluntly. "I'm worried. He's never late."

Winston glanced up. "Could Ha.s.san's car have broken down?"

"Could be, but I don't think so. Rick could have gotten a taxi anywhere on the route. Besides, he was going to the museum to get the Egyptian cat. Something might have happened."

The scientist knew the two boys from long a.s.sociation, and they had kept him informed of their various adventures. In spite of his preoccupation with the project he had been interested in their cat mystery and had been keeping an eye on them. Winston hadn't noticed that Rick was late, but he was worried too, now that it was called to his attention.

"Go find him, Scotty. Dr. Kerama's driver can take you. I'll have one of the others watch the tapes. But get back as soon as you can."

Scotty planned his search on the way into town. He had the car take him to the museum as soon as they arrived in Cairo. The museum was closed, but questioning of the guard disclosed that Rick had been there, and had "found" an unusual statue wrapped in newspaper and left in an urn. It was a new statue, the guard captain said, probably left by some visitor who had disobeyed the sign about taking packages into the museum.

So Rick had carried out the plan and had rescued the Egyptian cat. Now the museum had the kitten.

Scotty had the car take him to the hotel. There was no sign of either Rick or Ha.s.san, and no one had seen either of them. Scotty questioned the clerk, the doorman, the hall porter, the room maid, and the dragomen who waited for business in the narrow street between the Semiramis and the Shepheard's hotels.

Finally, he found a dragoman who knew nothing of their whereabouts, but added, "Why you not wait in room? They not far. Ha.s.san's car here."

"Where?" Scotty demanded quickly.

"Out back. In alley."

Scotty ran. The dragoman was right! Ha.s.san's car was parked in the usual place. He looked around to see who might have been working in the area, someone who might know when the car had arrived.

A window in the hotel kitchen opened into the alley above the car and a cook was looking out. Scotty found the door and hurried into the hotel.

He worked his way through rooms and corridors until he found the kitchen. He saw that the cook was a salad maker who apparently worked at a bench right next to the window, but to his questions the man shook his head. He spoke no English.

Additional searching produced the chief cook, whose English was good. He relayed Scotty's questions and the cook's answers.

"He say car come while he cleaning up after lunchtime. He see stranger driving. So he lean out and ask where is Ha.s.san. Stranger say he is the cousin of Ha.s.san and Ha.s.san lend him car. That is all. Cousin lock up car and go away."

It was enough. But Scotty's elation over finding a clue was tempered by the realization that a stranger driving Ha.s.san's car could mean that Rick and the dragoman were in real danger. He did not know whether or not Ha.s.san had any cousins, but he was certain the guide would not have loaned the car while on a job.

Scotty ran into the alley and tried all the doors. If Rick had managed to leave a note or any clue in the car, Scotty wanted it. Locked doors weren't going to stop him!

He searched the alley until he found a piece of stiff wire. He bent one end into a hook. Then, with his jackknife, he pried one of the no-draft windows open just far enough to slip the wire in. He wedged the window with a piece of wood and began fishing.

It took long, patient minutes to hook a door handle, then more time to maneuver the wire into position. By the time he was ready for the last step, the cooks and some of the dragomen were watching. He paid no attention. Holding his breath, he exerted pressure on the wire. The inner handle turned, the latch clicked. The door was unlocked.

Scotty started in the front seat and went over the car methodically. He found nothing. Finally, only the cushions were left. He pulled the front one away and examined the debris that seems to collect under car seats.

He put the cushion back and went to the rear one.

He lifted the seat out--and disclosed the Egyptian cat, in back of the cushion where Rick had stuffed it.

Scotty examined it, his heart racing. He hurriedly set things to rights in the car, closed the car door, and hurried into the hotel.

He knew Rick, and he knew his pal wouldn't have parted with the cat except for one reason: to protect it. That meant Rick had expected to be searched.

Scotty followed the thought forward, logically. Rick had hidden the cat, then he and Ha.s.san had been taken from the car. A "cousin" had brought it back to the hotel. Why? Scotty didn't know the answer to that, unless Rick and Ha.s.san had been taken in some location where an abandoned car would have attracted attention. That wouldn't be in the city, because who would pay any attention to a car parked and locked at the curb?

But if not in the city, where? Somewhere in the desert was Scotty's guess. The desert was on both sides of the river, both north and south of Cairo. He could a.s.sume that the two had headed for the project, or that they had gone north for some reason he couldn't imagine.

He dropped the line of thought; it was getting nowhere. One thing was clear: whoever had taken Rick and Ha.s.san hadn't suspected that Rick actually had the cat with him.

The cat had to be the reason. Someone who wanted it had decided on direct action. Scotty opened the door of the room he shared with Rick and looked about him unhappily, not really seeing anything. He knew Rick's captors would not have an easy time making his pal talk. And even when Rick did open up, he would spin some kind of yarn that would throw them off the trail. Scotty thought that Rick would not be in any great danger until he disclosed the cat's whereabouts. But he didn't like the idea of what Rick would have to go through before then.

The question was who had taken him?

There were two possibilities: Moustafa and Youssef. So far as Third Brother knew, the cat was to be delivered to him at the hotel that night. On the other hand, Youssef's men had searched them in front of the museum, and later Rick had handed Youssef a kitten. The thief must have found out that the kitten was a fake.

Scotty picked up the room telephone and called the project. In a moment he had Winston on the line. "Rick's gone," he said tersely. "Ha.s.san, too. The car was brought to the hotel by a stranger. Rick left the cat in the car, behind the rear cushion. He wouldn't do that unless he knew he was going to be searched. My guess is that Youssef s.n.a.t.c.hed them. I think it's time we got the police in on this!"

CHAPTER XVI

The Howling Jackals

Tourists travel thousands of miles to see the full moon rise over the Sahara Desert. It is a sight of lonely, majestic grandeur. The rolling contours of sand and rock a.s.sume weird, lovely patterns, and even the desert wind is hushed. It is at such times, men say, that the spirits of the ancient Egyptian G.o.ds, Amon-Re, Horus, Thoth, Isis, Osiris, Bubaste, and the others again walk on earth.

Rick Brant could appreciate the scene, but he was in no mood for it. He clutched his coat around him more tightly to keep out the penetrating desert chill. From behind a nearby dune he heard the rising, yapping howl of a jackal, one of earth's loneliest sounds.

Anubis, Egyptian G.o.d of death, had the head of a jackal, he recalled. He tried to wet his lips. He was terribly thirsty.

Ha.s.san had been stretched out on the sand. He rose to a sitting position and gestured toward the dune that shielded the jackal from sight. "He noisy."