Late that afternoon, as the four jets proceeded across Iran to the camp site in Kabulistan, Tom landed at the Teheran airport. He and Ames had to make rail-shipping arrangements for later supplies. These would be sent overland from the Persian Gulf via the Trans-Iranian Railway.
Meanwhile, Ed and Bud started out by taxi for 126 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
the Teheran bazaar. “If I can find out where that jeweler got the rubies, we may have a real clue to the Amir’s Mine,” Ed said hopefully.
Bud was wide-eyed as he viewed the bustling city of almost two million people. Like Shirabad, Teheran was a city of contrasts. The streets swarmed with vehicular traffic, yet sheep, goats, and even camels plodded here and there among the cars and buses. Many women still wore the chadar-the native capelike costume.
The brick-arcaded bazaar was a maze of covered streets stretching for miles.
Its booths displayed brassware, shoes, spices, perfume, food-hundreds of different items.
“What? No Persian rugs?” Bud quipped.
“They’re sold at the rug mart,” Ed replied, then suddenly pointed to a booth ahead. “There’s the fellow!”
A shaven-headed man stood behind a counter laden with beads, bracelets, and other ornamental jewelry. At first he shrugged off Ed’s questions about the rubies. But when Ed took out a ten-dollar bill, indicating he would make a purchase, the man smiled slyly.
“Kheli khoob! Very good!” he murmured. “Return tonight, alone, and I shall take you to someone who knows where the rubies came from!”
I CHAPTER XIV