The Mummy Case Page 9

  Frank had noticed earlier that he was sitting next to the emergency exit. According to the posted instructions, it could be opened by thrusting a metal bar to one side and pushing the window outward. Frank had an idea. Surreptitiously he elbowed Joe and gestured toward the exit. Then he looked down at his hands. His brother caught on at once. Both held their hands in their laps and began to communicate by sign language.

  When Frank finished telling Joe his plan, he leaped to his feet, levered the bar aside, and kicked the emergency exit open. At the same time, Joe pulled out the pencil-shaped tear gas gun that he had found in the boat going through the Tunnel of Horrors.

  The men in front and behind the boys had jumped up and were rushing toward them, only to be hit by sprays from Joe’s tear gas gun. They retreated, gasping and choking for air. Coughing violently, they turned away from the boys, clutched their throats, and rubbed their tearing eyes.

  The bus driver was startled by the commotion behind him. He slowed the vehicle and looked over his shoulder to see what it was all about. At that moment, Frank and Joe leaped through the emergency exit. Luckily they cleared the road and fell into the soft sand beside it. They somersaulted forward head over heels to break the force of the momentum, then managed to get up on their feet unhurt.

  “Come on!” Frank hissed. “We’ve got to get away from here pronto!”

  While they hurried off in the darkness, the bus driver managed to come to a stop about a hundred yards further down the road. Angrily he shifted into reverse gear and careened back at top speed. As he hit the brakes, the gang piled out of the bus, shouting frantically.

  “Where did they go?” Londy yelled.

  “It’s too dark to see!” the Egyptian shopkeeper replied.

  “Well, spread out and search for them!” Londy bellowed. “They can’t be far. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find one of them broke a leg when they jumped.”

  The Hardys had run up a shallow valley between two hills and heard the gang calling out behind them.

  “We’ve got to shake them!” Joe panted.

  “That means we’ll have to get out of this valley,” Frank responded. “It’s the obvious route for anyone to take.”

  The Hardys cut to the side over one of the hills. When they crossed the crest, they were silhouetted against a rising moon.

  “There they are!” Londy cried. “After them!”

  Frank and Joe dashed down the hill and circled the base in the direction of the bus. They came to a gulch where a stream had once cut a narrow tunnel through a sandstone cliff. Quickly they ducked into the tunnel and lay prone, panting from their run and hoping they would not be discovered.

  They heard the gang coming down the hill. “I hope they don’t guess we doubled back toward the bus,” Frank thought.

  As if in reply, Londy shouted, “They wouldn’t run to the bus! Go the other way!”

  Frank sighed with relief. “Let’s check the bus,” he said to Joe. “Maybe the driver left the key inside.”

  When they reached the vehicle, however, their hopes were shattered. The key was not in the ignition. Apparently the driver had taken it along.

  “Let’s run back to our hiding place,” Joe urged. “We’ll have to get out of here before those creeps come back.”

  In a flash, the Hardys jumped down the steps and ran to the tunnel with only seconds to spare before the gang trooped back.

  “How do I explain that the Hardys got away? Londy complained. ”Ali isn’t gonna like it!“

  He was still grumbling as he and the others passed just above the tunnel where the boys lay hidden. A little while later Frank and Joe heard the bus start, then the sound of its motor died away as the gang drove down the road.

  The young detectives crawled out of their hiding place. “Lucky they didn’t have a bloodhound,” Joe commented, “or they’d have found us for sure.”

  Frank nodded. “Question is, where do we go from here?”

  Since they had no idea where they were, they decided to follow the desert road.

  “We can hitchhike if a car comes along,” Joe observed.

  “Crank up your thumb,” said Frank, who had noticed lights in the distance. “There’s one!”

  They stood by the side of the road, each holding out his arm. A Western-make car materialized out of the darkness. Its headlights picked up the Hardys standing in the classic hitchhiking stance. The driver stared at them, but whipped past without slowing down.

  Joe dropped his arm. “How do you like that?” he complained. “You’d think the guy could have given us a ride.”

  Frank chuckled. “Well, I guess it’s legmobile for us.”

  They spent the night walking and resting in between. There was no sign of life around them, and they were cold and hungry. As soon as the sun rose, however, it became unbearably hot and their mouths felt parched and dry.

  Frank fought back a wave of panic. Would they ever make it to the next town? It could be another twenty or thirty miles away!

  Joe was dragging his feet and finally came to a halt. “I—I don’t think I can go much further,” he said hoarsely.

  “Let’s rest awhile,” Frank agreed. “Right after we go around that next bend, okay?”

  Joe nodded wearily. When they rounded the corner, a glimmer of water became visible.

  “The Nile!” Frank cried out in relief.

  Despite their exhausted state, they broke into a run and tumbled down the riverbank. Eagerly they threw themselves on their stomachs and drank the cooling water in large gulps.

  After that, they lay back, recuperating and staring up into the cloudless blue of the Egyptian sky.

  Finally Joe stood up. “I crave food,” he stated. “And over there are a bunch of houses. Must be a little village downstream. Maybe we can get something to eat and rest for a few hours.”

  “I sure hope so,” Frank declared emphatically.

  When they reached the village, they found nobody who could speak English. But they managed to make their meaning clear in sign language and obtained a meal and the use of two cots in a private house that served as the village inn.

  Sometime later they awoke, more or less refreshed. Trying to find out where they were, Joe spoke the word Luxor to the innkeeper, who pointed down the Nile and raised three fingers.

  “He must mean three kilometers,” Frank interpreted. “Less than three miles.”

  They started to walk alongside the river. At one point they looked back and noticed a sail billowing in the wind on the Nile. Others appeared strung out behind it. A number of wide-bodied boats with triangular canvas sails on slim, towering masts came into view. Each boat was steered by a single man and was loaded with barrels of grain and oil drums.

  The Hardys stopped to watch the procession.

  “They sure know how to sail against the current,” Joe said admiringly. “And the wind. It’s the sail that does it.”

  “And practice, too,” Frank added. “The Egyptians have had a lot of practice. They’ve been doing this for centuries.”

  The boys saw the boats disappear, then continued their hike in the direction of Luxor.

  Suddenly the soft loam of the riverbank crumbled under Joe’s foot. He lost his balance and tumbled into the water!

  “This is a great time for a swim,” Frank kidded him.

  Joe tried to scramble up the bank, but the slippery mud made him fall back. He thrashed around, trying to hold his footing.

  Suddenly, a long, dark form appeared behind him. It moved toward the boy, rippling the surface as it came closer.

  Frank turned pale. “Joe!” he cried. “It’s a crocodile! It’s coming after you!”

  16

  The Deserted Temple

  Frantically Joe struggled for a toehold that would enable him to climb up the bank to safety. Too late! The long black form closed in on him. Horrified, Frank expected the crocodile to open its jaws and crunch Joe between them!

  Joe felt a bump. He looked down into the water and
broke out laughing. “Your croc is a floating log!” he announced. Using it to steady himself, he eased out of the river and onto the bank. He sat down, emptied water out of his shoes, and squeezed as much as he could from his clothing.

  “Sorry for the scare I gave you,” Frank apologized. “I know crocs don’t usually come this far down anymore. But I thought this one might have rambled past the High Dam at Aswan by mistake!”

  “That’s okay,” Joe replied. “But I think we ought to walk along the road from now on.”

  The boys scrambled up the riverbank and soon came to a sign in Arabic with the word Luxor in Western lettering underneath. They continued to the edge of a modern town built at the site of ancient ruins.

  Frank hesitated. “The gang might be around here looking for us. Let’s disguise ourselves.”

  “There’s a place that sells native clothing,” Joe said, pointing to a fez in a small store window.

  “That’s what I had in mind.”

  Joe grinned and pulled out his wallet. “Maybe I can get rid of some of my soggy money here!”

  The boys went into the shop and emerged ten minutes later wearing voluminous gowns over their Western clothes and headdresses with bands of cloth falling to their shoulders. By drawing the cloth together with one hand, they could cover their faces.

  Joe took a few long strides. “It’s tough to move in this getup,” he declared. “How do the Egyptians do it?”

  “I guess it takes practice,” Frank replied. “Don’t give up.”

  After walking for a few hundred yards, they settled into an easy gait indistinguishable from that of the Egyptians they passed. They followed the crowds in one particular direction—to the ruins of an ancient building marked by four statues, two standing and two sitting.

  A bus disgorged about twenty tourists led by a native guide. Frank and Joe were just about to walk past them, when they noticed Ahmed Ali among the visitors!

  Instantly, they pulled their headdresses across their faces.

  “Let’s stay with this group and see where they go,” Frank whispered.

  The tourists gathered around the guide, who began to describe the surroundings. “These statues are of the Pharaoh Ramses the Second, who lived more than three thousand years ago. Follow me and we will see more.”

  The boys tagged along through Luxor as the guide pointed out the rest of the ruins. At the end, he told the tourists to return to their bus. “We will now go to see the Temple of Karnak. It is a mile from here along the Road of the Rams. Or rather, what remains of the Road of the Rams.”

  “Let’s go to the temple, too,” Joe whispered to Frank. “Think we can get away with boarding the bus?”

  “The guide would spot us,” Frank replied. “Every tourist guide knows how many people are supposed to be in his group. But it’s only a mile. We can walk and catch up with them later.”

  Frank and Joe were able to find their way to the ruins of the Temple of Karnak. Its rows of massive columns towered high in the air.

  The guide was in the middle of his talk when the boys arrived. They paid no attention to his lecture. Instead, they looked for Ahmed Ali and watched him closely until the guide announced that the group now had a half-hour to wander through the area on their own.

  The tourists dispersed, and Frank and Joe shadowed Ali, who walked slowly around the temple. Behind a column with part of a wall attached, a man was waiting for him. Butch Londy!

  Carefully, the Hardys sneaked around the pillar to a point where they could listen to the men’s conversation.

  When Ali heard that the boys had escaped, he was furious. “You should have watched them better!” he hissed. “They are extremely dangerous to us!”

  Londy sounded defensive. “Like I say, they had this tear gas gun. How was I supposed to know that? Anyway, me and the others, we ain’t seen ‘em around here. I guess they got lost in the desert.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Ali barked, “because we want to go ahead with our plan. This is what we’ll do—”

  Ali stopped as Frank, leaning forward to hear better, stubbed his toe against the base of the column.

  “What was that?” the Egyptian demanded, listening intently for a repetition of the noise.

  The Hardys froze, Frank holding his foot where it was and flattening his palm against the column to keep from falling on his face.

  At last Londy broke the silence. “It wasn’t nothin‘. Lots of stones around here. One must’ve fallen from that crossbeam up there. I’d just as soon get out. And I will, once we diwy up the proceeds.”

  Ali nodded. “To get back to what I was saying, this is what we’ll do. Our meeting is scheduled for tonight. We’ll get together in this temple at twelve o‘clock sharp, when I’ll have the final orders.”

  “Okay,” Londy said. “I’ll be here.” He went off and Ali returned to the tourists who were milling around the bus. A short while later the vehicle departed with the group.

  “Joe, we’ll also go to the midnight meeting,” Frank declared.

  “Of course! But first I have to get out of these clothes. They’re still damp.”

  “Let’s find a place to stay in Luxor,” Frank said.

  They took a public bus to a hotel and paid for a room. Frank flopped onto the bed and closed his eyes. Joe followed suit and both boys slept until early evening. Then Joe went to the laundry room where he washed and dried his ordinary clothing.

  Frank, meanwhile, had also changed into his regular pants and shirt and turned on the television. A newscaster was describing the state of tourism in Egypt and the film showed an air view of the monuments of Luxor where the boys had just been.

  Just then there was a knock on the door. “Joe must have forgotten his key,” Frank thought and got up to let his brother in. But when he opened the door, the face of a mummy glared at him!

  Frank stood transfixed for a moment, staring at the black shiny eyes set deep in the bandages that wound around the head. Then he noticed the Egyptian clothes the mummy was wearing and the truth dawned on him. With a quick grasp, he pulled the mask off its face. Joe grinned at him.

  “I really needed you to scare me like that!” Frank exploded, but then had to laugh at the prank. “Where’d you get the mask?”

  “I met a boy from Oklahoma in the laundry room,” Joe said. “It’s his.” He motioned to someone who stood next to the wall, out of sight. “Come on, Lee, meet my brother Frank. Frank, this is Lee Mason.”

  A pleasant-looking blond youth a few years older than the Hardys stepped into view. He smiled apologetically. “When Joe saw my mask, he couldn’t resist,” he explained.

  “Come on in,” Frank said. “Or even better, how about we all go and have some dinner?”

  “Good idea,” Joe chimed in. “Just let me change my clothes.”

  A short time later the three boys sat in a small, native restaurant and talked amiably during their meal. Lee told them about his travels in Egypt. “I’m an archeology student,” he explained. “I saved all the money I made working as a waiter at night so I could come here. It’s a great place if you’re interested in old ruins.”

  “I know,” Joe said. “Ruins and mummies!”

  When they had finished dinner, Lee said, “I’ve rented a sailboat for a moonlight ride up the Nile. Why don’t you come along? It would be fun.”

  Frank shook his head regretfully. “Sorry, but we have an appointment tonight.”

  The trio parted, and the Hardys went back to their room. Donning their Egyptian clothes, they left the hotel by the freight elevator at half-past eleven. They covered the mile to the area around the Temple of Karnak at a rapid pace, then moved slowly amid the ruins and looked around cautiously to avoid being caught off guard.

  They sneaked through the darkness into the temple. Total silence reigned over the mighty monument as moonlight slanted along the rows of columns, making them appear even taller than they were.

  “This place gives me the creeps,” Joe whispered.

&n
bsp; “Sh!” Frank said and pointed to a crevice in the stone. “Let’s hide in there. We’ll have a good view of the corner from that spot.”

  Soon, stealthy figures converged from different directions. When everyone was present, Ahmed Ali motined for silence.

  “We won’t complete the deal here,” he began, causing the gang members to mutter angrily.

  “Why not?” Butch Londy demanded. “We got a right to the money!”

  “Of course,” Ali responded diplomatically. “But our client didn’t want to bring the money to Luxor. We will have to accompany him to Cairo, where he’ll pay us after safe delivery of the goods. It’ll take a little extra time, that’s all.”

  “What do we do now?” Londy demanded.

  “We’re going to meet our client in the Valley of the Kings, right now!”

  “The graveyard across the river?”

  “The tombs of the pharaohs,” Ali corrected Londy. “Let’s go.”

  “Too bad we don’t have the Hardys,” Londy snarled.

  Ali chuckled. “We have something better. The mummy!”

  17

  Valley of the Kings

  The gang nodded in agreement. Then Ali spoke up again. “Is the boat ready? If so, I’ll meet you there and bring the mummy.”

  “It’s ready,” Londy said. “We’ll be waiting to ferry your pickup across the river.”

  The meeting broke up. Londy and the others walked toward the Nile, while Ali went in another direction.

  Joe nudged Frank. “We’d better follow him.”

  Frank nodded. “But we’ll have to keep far enough back or he’ll spot us.”

  Ali was only a dim outline in the darkness when the Hardys took up their pursuit. He never realized he was being shadowed. Quickly he strode out of the temple and continued on into the desert. Finally he came to a pickup truck, which was parked in a gully, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Frank and Joe ran forward and reached the vehicle just as Ali started the engine. Nimbly they pulled themselves up into the back and hid under the tarpaulin that covered the rear. Underneath they found an oblong case about five feet in length. The mummy’s coffin!