“You didn’t! Let me see them.”
As he fumbled about for three miserable little specimens, he explained how it came about.
“You know that place, half-way up, where the stones jut out? Wal, when we got there, them durned A-rabs stopped and said, ‘Say, mister, this is the place where they buy sca-rabs.’ I looked down, and saw that it was a two hundred feet clean drop to the bottom, and I said that I thought it was, so I bought them.”
“How much did you pay for them?”
“Two dollars.”
“Let me see them.”
Then he produced his scarabs.
“They are forgeries,” was my remark.
“That may be,” said my friend complacently, “but it was a clean drop to the bottom from that durned stone, and I guess I am not hankering after eternal glory just now.”
Among the scarabs was one with the name of Khaf-Ra, the builder of the Second Pyramid ([Plate VIII], No. 30) upon it. The workmanship is quite modern, and up to the present no contemporary scarabs have been found bearing Khaf-Ra’s name. However, as he had only paid 8s. for them, he had not been very badly done.