“Enough to tell our enemy all they’d like to know about Egypt,” the F.B.I. now agreed. “They’ll never know now. The proper sort of bath will remove all their fancy maps and messages. And then—” he paused. “What about that roll of papyrus?”
“Let us know when you’re through using it as evidence,” said Sparky. “Then we’ll try to find out what will happen to it next.”
Ten minutes later they were once more out in the glorious sunshine of their native land. Sparky hailed a cab and together they rode to the little hotel where the girls of the Ferry Command stay when they are in the city.
As they entered the lobby Mary saw one of the girls she knew.
“Greetings,” she called.
“Same to you,” came back. “Where did you just come in from?”
“Been round the world,” Mary smiled slyly.
“Oh, yeah?” Then the girl’s look changed. “Say, that’s right! You’re Mary Mason! I heard you on the radio!”
“Oh! I hoped no one would hear!” Mary was startled.
“Everybody did. Say! It was great! And now all the girls want to cross the ocean. And say! There’s a telegram for you at the desk! Yes, and a letter.”