Dick and Brad were lounging in their room in the Shepherd's Hotel,
Cairo, when Professor Gunn came sauntering in, with an unusually springy
step, humming a tune.
"Ah, ha!" he cried, striking a pose. "You two rascals have your heads
together, I see. What are you planning? What new trouble are you
hatching up? Can't you rest easy for a brief time? I have enjoyed the
last two weeks. Since our escape from Damascus, we have seen Alexandria,
Cairo, the Pyramids, and so forth, and nothing unusual has happened. We
have not once been in peril of losing our lives, and so now, I suppose,
you are seeking to devise some method of getting us into danger.
Desist--I bid you desist! Already my nerves have been shattered and my
constitution ruined by what we have passed through. It was pretty bad in
England. It was worse in Italy. It became still worse in Greece. We had
to hasten out of Constantinople to escape with our heads. But the grand
climax was reached in Syria. I tell you, boys, life was becoming too
strenuous for a man of my years. A few more hairbreadth escapes would
have brought about my utter collapse. I should have had heart failure.
But you seemed to enjoy it. And now I suppose you are seeking to devise
some means of getting us all into more trouble of the same sort. I order
you to stop it!"
"It happened that we were just speaking of Miguel Bunol and his fate,"
smiled Dick. "I can't help feeling pity for the unfortunate fellow, but
Brad insists that he received nothing worse than he deserved."
"That's what I do," put in the Texan, rising. "Bunol was thoroughly bad
and vicious. His crookedness was certain to get him hanged in the end,
unless some equally severe punishment fell upon him."
"His fate seems to be even worse than death on the gallows," said Dick.
"Well, pard, have you forgotten that he first condemned you to that
fate?"
"No, but----"
"Don't try to make any excuses for that dog!" exploded the Texan. "He
was the very limit when he attended school at Fardale. You know it,
partner--you know about all the dirty, low-down things he did there. He
was born a crook and a sneak. What was he doing when we ran across him
in London?"
"Fleecing Dunbar Budthorne at cards."
"Worse than that. He was ruining Budthorne by keeping him full of booze.
He had found that Budthorne had a weakness for drink. But, in order to
complete the unfortunate fellow's destruction, Bunol had doped the man
with a drug that made him crave liquor constantly. A cur that would do a
thing like that deserves anything that comes to him."
"I'm not going to put up an argument," said Merriwell; "but it seems to
me that one of his worst tricks was the attempt to ensnare Nadia
Budthorne and force her into marriage with him."
"You bet!" roared Brad. "It makes my blood boil to think of that!"
"But we fooled Bunol very handsomely and rescued both Budthorne and his
sister from the rascal's grip."
"Which was no easy job. Professor, considering everything, I leave it to
you if Bunol received punishment worse than he merited, when Ras al Had
turned the tables on him, and commanded the Bedouins to take him into
Arabia and sell him into slavery?"
"Hum! ha!" coughed Zenas. "Well, well, it may sound harsh and cruel, but
I must confess that his punishment and fate has never given me a single
moment of uneasiness and pity. He was bad--about the worst scoundrel I
ever saw. He brought it on himself. I agree with Brad that he merited
just what he got."
"Perhaps he did," admitted Dick; "but think of the awful life he will be
compelled to endure as a slave to black men in the Arabian desert! It
makes me shiver."
"I opine it will make him hot," said Brad, with a faint grin.
"There is no escape for him."
"Oh, yes, there is."
"What is it?"
"Death! A fellow can always find some way to kill himself."
Dick was thinking of the horrible word picture of slavery in Arabia that
Miguel Bunol had painted.
"I don't like to think about it!" muttered Merriwell, his face rather
pale. "Let's do something."
"There is only one thing more left for us to do in Egypt, boys," said
the professor.
"What's that?"
"Why, you might take an excursion up the Nile."
"We might?"
"Yes."
"How about you?"
"I hardly think I'll try it."
"Why not?"
"Well--er--ahem!--I prefer to remain here in Cairo. I am quite
contented. I have visited the Pyramids, seen the Castle of the Nile,
wandered through the Alabaster Mosque, viewed the Tombs of the Caliphs,
and peered into the Haunted House of the Afrit. I am satisfied. I'm
willing to be quiet and rest. I'll stay right here while you take an
excursion up the river."
Dick winked at Brad.
"What's the attraction that interests you so much in Cairo?" he asked.
"Oh, no--no attraction," Zenas hastened to declare. "Nothing at all. I'm
contented, that's all."
Merriwell was puzzled, for he felt that there was something behind the
old man's strange contentment in that foreign city.
"Well, I don't think Brad and I will go off on any excursion by
ourselves."
"Why not take Budthorne and Nadia along? That's a good idea. They'll
enjoy it."
"I believe you are anxious to get rid of us. There's something doing,
Brad."
"Sure thing, pard," agreed the Texan.
But the old man protested that they were quite wrong.
"I wish you to see all of the world that you can on this trip, that's
all. You'll be quite comfortable on the excursion boat."
"Not if the blamed boat carries as large a cargo of fleas and biting and
stinging things as we struck on the boat from Yafa to Alexandria,"
growled the Texan. "I was all chawed up by the time I landed from that
old craft. My hide looked like a map of Asia pricked out in red
splotches, and lines, and bumps, and scratches. The fleas and other
varmints of this yere part of the world sure do love the taste of a
foreigner."
"I don't think there will be such pests on the excursion boat," said
Zenas quickly.
"Well, I fancy we can get along without making that excursion," observed
Dick. "I'm for getting out of Cairo and continuing on our journey."
"So am I," seconded Brad.
"Oh, but I'm not ready," protested the professor. "My dear boys, this is
the most interesting country in the world. You don't seem to appreciate
it. You don't seem to understand that investigation and science have
established the fact that more than six thousand years ago the people of
this country had acquired a high degree of civilization and culture, and
that in those distant ages there flourished right here in the valley of
the Nile an educated priesthood, cultured society, an elaborate system
of theology and a splendid and powerful form of government. The people
were then far advanced in religion, architecture, painting, sculpture,
philosophy, and astronomy. Oh, my dear boys, I must remain here a while
longer to study and to investigate these matters."
Dick winked at Brad once more.
"We haven't observed you studying or investigating a great deal,
professor," he said.
"Oh, I study far more than you suppose. I investigate by observation."
"Well, if you wish to investigate the records of former civilization, it
seems to me you cannot do better than to take a trip up the Nile, along
which you will see the ruins of ancient cities and temples. You should
visit the ruins of Thebes, see the temple of Rameses and behold the
wonders of Karnak."
"I'll have to forego that pleasure," said Zenas; "but I will not deprive
you of it. You must go, boys--you shall go! I'll make arrangements for
it."
But both lads positively declined, much to the vexation of the old man.
"Hum! haw!" he coughed. "I did have a vague idea that I was your
guardian during this trip; but it seems that I am not."
"Would you send us away into peril?" asked Dick, with pretended
resentment. "We admire you, professor--we love you, and we propose to
stick by you. You can't shake us."
"Not on your life," chuckled Brad. "We're going to find out whatever
your little game in Cairo is. Better tell us."
"No game at all! It's ridiculous--simply ridiculous! All right. If you
won't go, I can't help it; but I may find it impossible to be with you
constantly while in Cairo. Private matters may call me away from you for
some days. I have met a gentleman from the United States here--a very
interesting man. His name is Stringer--Colonel Erastus Stringer. He is a
very fine gentleman, and I----"
"I've seen the colonel," said Merriwell. "He seems to me like a rather
gay old bird. Better take care that he doesn't get you into a scrape."
"I think I am fully competent to take care of myself," said the old
pedagogue, with dignity. "The colonel is a very quiet and retiring
person. I do not approve of the disparaging manner in which you speak of
him."
"I think the colonel is inclined to look too often on the jag pot," said
Brad.
"Tut, tut, tut!" exclaimed Zenas. "Such vulgarity! Jag pot! Such slang!
Bradley, you often make me blush with shame for you. I fear your travels
are not doing you much good. I did hope to take you back to America
quite changed and altered. I hoped to polish off your rough ways and
eliminate the slang from your vocabulary. But, alas! I fear my efforts
will be fruitless."
The old man then launched into a lecture, to which the boys listened
weariedly.
"I have given you a few things to serve as food for contemplation,"
Zenas concluded. "I will now retire and let you think them over."
When he was gone Dick turned to his friend, a puzzled expression on his
face.
"What do you suppose the old boy is up to?" he asked.
"Hanged if I know," admitted the Texan; "but I'll be shot if I don't
think there's something in the wind."
"We must find out what it is. Colonel Stringer is something of a lusher,
as well as a practical joker. I hear he was put out of the Hotel Abbat,
in Alexandria, on account of some sort of practical joke in which he was
concerned."
There was a tap on their door and Dunbar Budthorne entered.
"What do you say, boys, to a trip to Citadel Hill to witness the
sunset?" he asked. "Nadia wants to go."
"Then I'm ready," declared Buckhart, in a twinkling.
"I'll go along, too," said Dick, rising.