“True enough, Blackwell,” he admitted; “but then the lids had all been moved!” “Quite, quite!” the Professor said. “The parallel is not exact, I agree.” “There’s no damned parallel at all!” boomed Danbazzar. “Inside this granite sarcophagus there’s a wooden sarcophagus, and in that there’s a mummy!” “How long will it take to remove the other blocks?” Barry asked excitedly. “We ought to be in to-night!” was the reply. “It’s an easy job. That doorway was only temporarily walled up--as we might have expected.” “And what about lifting the lid?” “We have a set of jacks for the purpose, Barry,” his father replied. “They are in the cases that were shipped from Birmingham to Port Said. It is this sort of heavy gear that makes our position so dangerous. If Mr. Tawwab saw those jacks, for instance----” “Quite!” said Professor Blackwell, and poured out another cup of coffee, to which he added a finger of rum. Danbazzar had brought some mail across from Luxor, including a cable for Barry from Jim Sakers, which had infuriated the former to the very limits of endurance. It was conceived as follows: Called on Mr. Brown yesterday afternoon. Door was opened by Princess. Recognized description. Height five eight. Age fifty-two. Weight thirteen ten. She carried a rolling pin at beginning of interview and threw it at end of same. Congratulations. Jim. There was also a letter from Aunt Micky touching briefly upon the principal causes of dysentery in hot climates and emphasizing the claims of Vichy water as a dentifrice. There was much home chat about mutual friends, and then a brief postscript which read: Avoid Nile boils. I had one on my honeymoon. Barry hurried back to the excavation, his father accompanying him. Danbazzar had a number of arrangements to make in regard to the transport of necessary implements to the tomb, and it was considered desirable that one representative of the party should remain in camp. Therefore Professor Blackwell remained. And so it happened that late in the afternoon, while the Professor sat in the shade before his tent, studying through a magnifying glass a number of small bones from the arm of a mummy, neatly arranged upon a sheet of white paper, he started suddenly and looked up from his task. The cause of his disturbance was a distant shot. It came from somewhere between the camp and Kurna, and ordinarily it would not have aroused especial interest. This morning it had a particular meaning. Professor Blackwell placed the specimens inside the tent, and, standing up, clapped his hands sharply. An Arab appeared from the kitchen. In the absence of Mahmoud, who was a specialist in the kind of work now going forward in the tomb of Zalithea, this man was preparing the midday meal. But he had other duties; and, as he saluted the Professor: “Danbazzar Effendi!” said the latter, and pointed southwest.