Colonel Kazar escorted the five Americans out, with profuse apologies and compliments. The sergeant helped them climb aboard. Tom’s companions chuckled as the car pulled away.
“Brand my flapjacks!” Chow declared. “I’ll bet we left that hombre stewin’!”
The palace was a large white building topped by graceful minarets and a gleaming, jewellike dome. After an hour’s wait, Tom’s group was ushered into an office richly furnished with satin draperies, upholstered chairs, and an Oriental rug.
Habib Shah, the Western-educated ruler of Kabulistan, rose from his desk to greet them.
“I am most grateful,” he said to Tom, “that you have come to help my people with your scientific prowess. Even in Kabulistan we have heard of the exploits of the two famous Tom Swifts.”
Tom flushed slightly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The Shah shook hands with each man in the group, then turned back to Tom. “You are free to survey and inspect the entire country at will. Come to me at any time you need assistance.”
“We’ll do our best to justify your confidence, sir,” Tom replied.
MYSTERIOUS HOSTILITY 93
On their way out of the palace, Tom’s group went through an anteroom crowded with people. Tom noticed a gaunt, black-bearded man pacing back and forth. He was wearing a ruby tie clasp!
“That’s Nurhan Flambo!” Tom whispered to Bud.
At that moment Flambo caught sight of Tom. His hawklike eyes flashed angrily as he strode forward.
“So!” he hissed. “It is clear now why you refused my offer! I have heard about the cunning project by which you seek to gain a business advantage here in the Middle East!”