cked. He was glad
kitty was hidden in his pocket.

Inside, they paused at the sudden spectacle of great stone figures and
huge stone sarcophagi. There was a great hall filled with giant statuary
straight ahead, and on each side, wide staircases led to the upper
floor.

"Topside," Scotty said. "Then we can look down and see if any familiar
faces come through the door."

They walked up the left-hand staircase, past rows of ancient wooden
mummy cases, and came to the upper landing. A few minutes were spent
inspecting the last resting place of a one-time Egyptian lord, with
frequent glances toward the entrance.

"They don't need to follow us in," Rick pointed out finally. "Sooner or
later we'll have to go out, and they'll be waiting."

"Sure. But it's wise to be careful. If one had followed us in here, we'd
have been forced to keep an eye on him. Me, I want to see this museum."

They wandered through the countless rooms of the upper floor, each
filled with antique treasures that were impossible to identify. There
were few cards of explanation. One room was crowded with alabaster
carvings, any one of which would have rated a whole room to itself in a
modern American museum. The great building was literally jammed with
rare objects, many of them thousands of years old. Uniformed guards were
posted at every corner, obviously to protect the myriad treasures.

"The police are keeping an eye on us," Rick muttered.

"What else are they here for?" Scotty commented. "Don't try to carry off
one of those ten-ton statues and they won't bother you."

Rick paused before a collection of brightly painted miniature clay
soldiers, created to serve as a phantom army for some forgotten
nobleman. "This stuff is priceless. I'll bet they really do need
guards."

As the boys walked into a small room containing shelves of assorted clay
and stone dishes and utensils, Scotty exclaimed, "Look, on the third
shelf!"

Rick searched until he saw what Scotty's quick eyes had spotted. It was
partly hidden behind a clay jug. An Egyptian cat!

Closer inspection showed that it was not the mate to the one he carried.
The museum cat was darker, obviously older. It was more stylized and
slightly larger. There was no identifying card.

The Egyptian cat returned his gaze with dark stone eyes. "Wonder if
they'd like to have you, too?" Rick said to himself. Four men wanted the
one in his pocket. He wished it was as safe as the antique before him.
Sud