can travel only thirty or so
miles a day. So the next day the planes went out again, circling,
circling, but they still didn't spot the thieves and their loot, nor
the next day. Well, to shorten it, the Tuareg got their four hundred
camels all the way up to Spanish Rio de Oro where they sold them."

She had their staring attention. "How?" Elmer blurted.

"It was simple. They traveled all night and then, at dawn, buried the
camels and themselves in the sand and stayed there all day."

Homer said, "I'm sold. Boys, I hope you're in physical trim because
there's going to be quite a bit of digging for the next few days."

Cliff groaned. "Some Minister of the Treasury," he complained. "They
give him a shovel instead of a bankbook."

Everyone laughed.

Bey said, "Well, I suppose we stay here until nightfall."

"Right," Homer said. "Whose turn is it to pull cook duty?"

Isobel said menacingly, "I don't know whose turn it is, but I know I'm
going to do the cooking. After that slumgullion Kenny whipped up
yesterday, I'm a perpetual volunteer for the job of chef--strictly in
self-defense."

"That was a cruel cut," Kenny protested, "however, I hereby relinquish
all my rights to cooking for this expedition."

"And me!"

"And me!"

"O.K.," Homer said, "so Isobel is Minister of the Royal Kitchen." He
looked at Elmer Allen. "Which reminds me. You're our junior
theoretician. Are we a monarchy?"

Elmer Allen scowled sourly and sat down, his back to the wadi wall. "I
wouldn't think so."

Isobel went off to make coffee in the portable galley in the rear of
the second hovercraft. The others brought forth tobacco and squatted
or sat near the dour Jamaican. Years in the desert had taught them the
nomad's ability to relax completely given opportunity.

"So if it's not a monarchy, what'll we call El Hassan?" Kenny
demanded.

Elmer said slowly, thoughtfully, "We'll call him simply _El Hassan_.
Monarchies are of the past, and El Hassan is the voice of the future,
something new. We won't admit he's just a latter-day tyrant, an
opportunist seizing power because it's there crying to be seized.
Actually, El Hassan is in the tradition of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane,
or, more recently, Napoleon. But he's a modern version, and we're not
going to hang the old labels on him."

Isobel had brought the coffee. "I think you're right," she said.

"Sold," Homer agreed. "So we aren't a monarchy. We're a tyranny." His
face had begun by expres