“The tombs! What’s the use of seeing a lot of moldy old tombs?” protested some of the sailors.
“Oh, all right. But Herc and I want to pay our respects to a few mummies before we leave Egypt,” responded Ned. “You fellows wait for us.”
“All right,” agreed Meadows. “I’m plumb worn out with sight-seeing.”
“Where’s that guide? Oh, here he is. Now then, ‘Lead on, McDuff,’” cried Ned, and the two boys followed the guide up to a height of fifty feet or more above the desert. Then they paused at a black hole.
“Do we go in there?” demanded Herc, as the guide paused to light candles.
“Certainly, why not?”
“It looks like the subway. First time I ever heard of burying kings in the subway.”
Into the dark recesses of the tombs they plunged after the guide. It was almost insufferably hot and smelled musty and mouldy. In places the ceiling was low and they had to crawl on their hands and knees on the dusty floor.
“My uniform will be a fine sight when we get out of here,” grumbled Herc. “Just after I had all that sticky stuff cleaned off it, too!”
“Never mind. That dust will brush off,” declared Ned, and they went forward once more.