“He has traveled,” was the answer.
“Do you know if he can read English?”
“I do not know, but it may be that he can.”
“Wait.”
Dick strode to the desk, seized a pad of paper and a pencil and wrote rapidly. In a few moments he had finished.
“What are you trying to do, Richard?” asked the old professor, who had been nervously walking about the room. “You have not sought my advice.”
“There is no time for that now, professor,” declared the boy.
He thrust the folded paper into one of Assouan’s huge hands.
“Carry that to Abraham without delay if you wish to aid me,” he directed. “Let no other person see it. Time is precious.”
The black man bowed low and hurried from the room.