About ten miles from Taos, the station wagon’s engine suddenly began sputtering and coughing. “Wonder what’s wrong,” Tom said.
“Frankly, pal, it sounds as if we’re out of gas,” Bud said cheerfully.
“We can’t be. Look at the gauge needle.”
A moment later the engine died abruptly. Tom barely managed to steer off the road before the station wagon rolled to a halt. Both boys got out to check the tank and lift the hood.
The car behind now overtook them and pulled off the road just ahead of the station wagon. A bareheaded man leaped from the car, brandishing a revolver.
“Get your hands up, all of you!” he snarled in a voice that had a familiar foreign accent.
It was Mirza!
CHAPTER VI
CRUCIAL PRESSURE TEST
AS HE strode toward Torn and Bud, Mirza’s face was starkly revealed in the glare of the station wagon’s headlights. He looked pale and unshaven. His eyes gleamed fanatically.
Moving past the two boys, Mirza jerked open the rear door. “You three, step outside!”
Chow climbed from the back seat, scowling. Sandy and Phyl followed.
“I suppose you drained our tank while we were having dinner back in Taos,”
Tom accused Mirza. “And then doctored the fuel gauge.”
“Most clever of you to guess,” the man sneered. He turned to Sandy and held out his free hand. “I will take that ruby ring, please!”
As Sandy stepped back defiantly, Tom snapped, “I wouldn’t touch that ring if I were you!”
Mirza froze. “And why not?”
61
62 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
“In case you’ve forgotten, the rubies from that lost mine in Kabulistan bear the curse of Shaitan!”
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