Soon a State Police car arrived. The sergeant in charge tried to question Mirza, but the prisoner gave only raving, disconnected replies.
“Beware! The ruby must be returned to Kabulistan, or hurled into the depths of the sea!” he stormed. “If not, the curse of Shaitan and his Afrites will fall upon you!”
“I guess that’s all we’re likely to get out of Mirza,” Tom murmured.
The sergeant agreed in disgust. “I’d say this guy belongs in a padded cell.”
After Tom put some gasoline into the station wagon’s tank from the police car’s emergency supply, he and his companions continued on to the Citadel.
Meanwhile, the police headed back to Taos with their prisoner.
“Tom, do you suppose Mirza really believes in that curse?” Phyl asked a few moments later. “Or was the wrhole thing just an act?”
“If that business about the curse was just an act, he deserves an Oscar!”
Sandy shuddered.
64 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
“If you ask me, he was just covering up to keep from answering questions,”
Bud said flatly.
Tom agreed. “For all we know, he may still be working for Flambo!”
The next morning Sandy, Phyl, and Bud gathered in Tom’s laboratory. They watched quietly as he prepared to test the new material he had developed for his midget power-plant casing. The young inventor had extruded several rods which he now installed in a strength-testing machine.
“Did you say it’s a plastic?” Phyl asked in amazement.
“Technically, yes,” Tom replied. “But in all its properties, the material is more like a tremendously strong, hard, lightweight metal.”
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122