It contained a solid wad of bills. Rick touched the top one, still a little unbelieving. The figure on it was 1000!

He turned the box over and tapped it. The bills dropped out. He didn't doubt there were two hundred of them.

Two hundred thousand dollars!

Rick looked at the expressions on the faces around him. Scotty was standing with openmouthed excitement. Youssef was leaning forward, feasting on the wealth with greedy eyes. Moustafa was slumped in resignation. And Ismail ben Adhem had the look of the cat that swallowed the cream.

"Now," Rick said triumphantly, "now we know why the cat was important!"

CHAPTER XX

The Signal Vanishes

Rick studied the Sanborn tracing. He could see where the pulsed signals gradually disappeared into a much stronger, steady 21-centimeter signal.

"We lost it at 4:02 yesterday," Winston said. "It hasn't reappeared.

Apparently the signal source moved into, or behind, a globular cl.u.s.ter."

Rick's brows knit. "That's more evidence that it was moving contrary to normal direction?"

"It is," Dr. Kerama agreed. "What's more, the calculated velocity was simply incredible. The only velocities we know of that approximate it are those of galaxies at the very limit of our instruments."

Rick said what was on his mind. "It was a s.p.a.ceship. What else would travel across normal star directions giving out signals?"

He grinned sheepishly. It wasn't strictly proper to blurt out his own theories.

"The possibility has occurred to us," Kerama said slowly. "It is certainly the most appealing explanation, and it is natural that it should come to your mind, Rick. But it is not the only possible solution."

Winston agreed. "There are others that are difficult to explain, unless you have a good background in astrophysics, Rick."

Scotty said, "I'm sure you have lots of theories, but honestly--what do you really think?"

The scientist glanced at his Egyptian colleagues. Farid urged, "Tell him what we talked about last night. It may not be subject to any real proof, but I think the boys have a right to know what we've concluded."

"All right," Winston nodded. "To put it as briefly as possible, we agree that the most likely explanation is that we intercepted intelligent signals, sent out for some reason by some beings we can't even imagine.

For one thing, the s.p.a.ce object is so small that we can't even give it a dimension. Neither can the other telescopes. Mount Palomar can see nothing."

"A s.p.a.ceship," Rick said soberly. The implications of it were tremendous!

"It's as good a name as any. And now, boys, let's start folding up our part of the operation. We have reservations on tomorrow's flight. That will put us into New York just about suppertime."

"We hate to leave," Scotty told the Egyptian scientists. "Unfortunately, thanks to that Egyptian cat, we didn't get to see much of Cairo."

"At least I saw a piece of the Sahara Desert," Rick said with a grin.

"Anyway, let's move. I have some shopping to do for my folks, and for Jan Miller, and especially Barby."

"Going to take her a bouquet of Egyptian poison ivy?" Winston asked with a smile.

"Nope. I'm going to buy her some nice things, but I'm also going to take her the remains of the Egyptian cat. Just as a reminder."

He turned to glance around the control room before leaving. The plaster on the ceiling would need repairing where the Sten gun had chipped it down to the concrete roof slab, but there was little real damage to show the effect of last night's fight. Even the window broken by Youssef had been repaired.

How simple it all had been--once Ismail ben Adhem had taken over. Rick knew why he and Scotty had failed to solve the mystery. There was too much information they did not have, such as the disposal of the Kefren necklace and knowing that the Moustafas were the prime movers in a revolution.

Farid and Kerama had not been surprised. "There are some who do not like the controls on trade and exchange that our government had to impose,"

Farid explained. "Mostly, they are people who had things pretty much their own way before the Republic was formed. They used to get special treatment from government officials who were in their pay, and they grew rich. Now, that's impossible. So they plot revolution to bring the bad old days back again--bad old days for most Egyptians, that is. The Moustafas and Bartouki used to be pretty powerful. I suppose they wanted that power back."

Dr. Kerama added, "This is probably not the last try at revolution the police will have to stop. But our country grows more stable all the time, and the would-be revolutionaries grow older and perhaps wiser."

"Time goes on," Rick agreed. "Things change." He thought of Kemel Moustafa the revolutionary, the only one of the three brothers they had met--and he thought of Ha.s.san's saying. He added, "The little jackal barks, but the caravan pa.s.ses."

Hakim Farid laughed outright. "We'll make a good Egyptian of you yet, Rick."

The time along the Greenwich meridian, from which all world times are measured, was 9:30 P.M.

At Spindrift Island, it was 4:30 in the late afternoon. Barby Brant sat with her close friend, Jan Miller, before the roaring fire in the library.

"I'll bet Rick and Scotty are having a marvelous time," Barby said.

There was no envy in the statement. She always protested volubly at being left behind, but that was more a matter of principle than anything else. Once the boys had gone, she always simmered down enough to be glad they could go, even if she could not.

Jan, a slim, attractive dark-haired girl, said, "I'll bet they're glad you suggested that Rick deliver the Egyptian cat, too. It was an introduction to a real merchant, right in the bazaar."

Barby smiled. "They probably made a lot of new friends from just that one thing!"

It was 5:30 in the afternoon on a tiny island off the coast of Venezuela. Two elderly men looked up from their inspection of a hot spring. The smaller of the two shrugged. He spoke in Spanish.

"I will keep watch. If new signs develop, I know where to go for help.

It is the Spindrift Scientific Foundation. If anyone can help us, that group can. If they can't--well, we are doomed."

In Cairo, it was 11:30. Rick Brant hauled himself to the top of the great pyramid of Khufu. Scotty and Ha.s.san joined him.

The view was magnificent. Cairo sparkled like a million jewels, and in places they could see the silver ribbon of the Nile. Rick turned and looked at the radio telescope at Sahara Wells, its great parabolic reflector gleaming in the brilliant moonlight.

He was content. As a last adventure, and with the permission of Winston, the three had decided to climb the pyramid by moonlight. Now the mysteries of the Egyptian cat and the strange signal from s.p.a.ce were behind them. In eleven hours they would be air-borne, and tomorrow night they would sleep at home.

Ha.s.san spoke. "I sorry to see you go. You come back, maybe?"

"Someday," Scotty said.

Rick added, "When we show my sister that picture of you with the fancy clothes and that scimitar you borrowed, we'll have to bring her to see you in person. She won't believe her eyes."

Ha.s.san chuckled softly. "Tell her I will be her bodyguard, to protect her from Youssef, if he ever gets free from jail. I will even protect her from our so terrible Egyptian cats!"