nto view and the guard snatched it from his hands. Rick turned
to him with a look of bewilderment.

The guard unwrapped the kitten completely and held it up, then he turned
swiftly and hurried out.

Rick was across the room in two bounds. He grabbed the Egyptian cat and
tucked it into his inner pocket, then he closed his coat without
buttoning it and hurried after the guard.

The guard hadn't gone far. Rick found him with another guard,
gesticulating and waving the cat. Apparently the other guard was an
officer, because he had tabs on his shoulder.

The guard with the cat saw Rick and beckoned to him. He walked over,
trying to keep his expression interested but unconcerned.

The officer spoke English, but not well. "He say you get this?"

"I see in big jar. Vase. Stone. In newspaper. Someone leave?" Rick did
his best to make his reply simple enough for understanding. He
apparently succeeded.

"Think someone try steal. Bad."

"Very bad," Rick agreed, straight-faced. "Hope you find. Steal from
museum no good."

"No good," the officer agreed.

"Good-by," Rick said. He held his breath waiting for the reaction.

Both guards gave him a half-salute, the courteous gesture he had seen
often in Cairo. He bowed and walked toward the stairs.

Not until he was outside did he breathe freely. The cat was a comforting
weight in his pocket as he got into Hassan's car. He wondered what the
museum officials would think about the kitten. A moment's examination by
one of the archaeologists would show that it was of concrete, and new
concrete at that. Maybe it would just end up at the _Lost and Found_
desk, if they had one.

"Let's go back to the project, Hassan," he directed. Scotty would want
to know if he had been successful. Then he could go to the Mena House
and have a late lunch while Scotty recorded signals.

If only he didn't have to give the Egyptian cat to Moustafa--until the
mystery was solved. He grinned at his own thought. The cat was no good
to him, was it? His only interest was solving the mystery. Why did so
many people want it?

He forced himself to think logically. It was old ground, but he went
over it again. The cat itself could have no real value. It was plastic,
and plastic is cheap. On the other hand, it was valuable as a model, as
Bartouki had explained, and Moustafa had confirmed again last night.

Rick wasn't satisfied. A professional thief like Youssef wouldn't be
interested in a model. He would