"Ye're no child yersel'," chuckled Captain Mac in delight. "That's just what they told me at the British Museum. Now, here's another queer thing.
"Ye know more about old Egypt than I do, Wallace. From what I could learn from Mbopo, it seemed that long ago these white pigmies migrated from the east to where they are now. On their way they struck a half-ruined "City of the Gods," as Mbopo called it. They brought away a lot o' stuff from there, which they looked on as sacred. All that's left is the mummy and the ankh. Is that possible?"
"Possible," returned Mr. Wallace, "but hardly probable. They might have run across one of the extreme southern Egyptian cities, and indeed that would be the only logical explanation of the presence of these things so far west. Yes, the tradition must be true. It's a strange bit of prehistoric African history you've run into, Mac."
"It is that," rejoined the other. "Well, for a year I've been tryin' to make up a party to carry off that ivory an' that gold ankh. I got hold o' Tom Reynolds at Cairo, an' put it up to him. He called me a plain fool. I found McConnell in London. He laughed at the yarn. I tried to find you, but ye'd vanished around Tripoli. So at last I came down to tackle the job alone.
"When I struck your party, I knew right off that wi' the laddies along ye'd never tackle it. Man, I was fair desperate! I determined to lead ye off to the edge o' the pigmy country, where we are now, an' then put it up to ye. There ye are, Wallace. Will ye come in wi' me an' try it? The pigmies won't hurt me, mind."
Mr. Wallace stared at the scarabs. Burt stole a glance at his chum, and the two waited in breathless interest, not daring to urge the project. At length Mr. Wallace sighed.
"You've tempted me, Mac, tempted me more than you know! I'd like nothing better than to make a dash for that place with you—not only for the treasure, but for the discoveries we could make. But with the boys here it is impossible. I am responsible for them, and I dare not go off and leave them in this country. If you'd told me this back up the river I'd have left them at the trading station and made a dash in with you."
"Oh, uncle!" burst out Burt, dismayed. "Ain't it perfectly safe? Take us! Let's all go! Cap'n Mac says they won't hurt him; he's a kind o' god, an' he can fix it so's we'll all—"
"No," broke in his uncle decisively. "I refuse to take the risk, Burt. No use, lad. That's final. You'll have to trust to my judgment in this affair."
"Ye're right," nodded Montenay dejectedly. "I can't blame ye, Wallace. But do ye understand? Ye won't hold the compass business against me—"