CHAPTER XVIII

  The Fight at Sahara Wells

  The pistol dropped from the police driver's nerveless hand and Scottyleaped. Rick dropped to the floor as his pal picked up the pistol androlled, shooting as he turned. His second shot caught an Arab andslammed him back into the others who were trying to crowd in.

  Rick looked frantically for a weapon. The only thing in sight was aheavy ceramic ash tray that the guard's fall had knocked to the floor.He grabbed it and threw, rising to one elbow. The ash tray caught anArab in the throat. Someone shot, and chips flew from the cement floornext to Rick's head. He rolled away.

  Scotty aimed with care, as coolly as though he stood on the range backhome. He squeezed the trigger and was rewarded by a choked yell frombeyond the doorway. He fired again, and a burnoosed figure grabbed thedoorframe for support.

  The Arabs beyond the doorway had dived for cover, leaving the doorframeclear except for the most recent victim of Scotty's shooting and the oneRick had hit. He was lying on the floor with both hands clutched to histhroat, gagging and gasping for air.

  A headdress was thrust around the frame and Scotty squeezed off a quickshot. The hammer clicked harmlessly. He was out of ammunition! He threwthe pistol and the head vanished.

  Both boys got to their feet and crouched to rush any newcomers. Theywhirled at the tinkle of broken glass behind them.

  Youssef stood in the window, a Sten gun trained on them. Rick looked atthe deadly little submachine gun and gulped. He remembered what Ben hadsaid about removing the evidence.

  The thief said, "Put both hands on top of your heads."

  The boys did so, with no hesitation. In spite of Youssef's apparentlycasual manner, both knew he would not hesitate to shoot. He raised hisvoice and shouted in Arabic. The boys stiffened as footsteps soundedbehind them and gun muzzles were thrust into their backs. Youssefvanished from the window and reappeared in a moment through the door.

  "You're a difficult young man," he told Rick. "But the time for beingdifficult is over. I want the cat, now."

  "I left it in Hassan's car," Rick said, with pretended hopelessness.

  Youssef spoke in Arabic. The pressure of the gun muzzle left Rick'sback. He felt a cord being slipped around his forehead, a cord with hardknots that fell across his temples.

  "What you feel is a strangler's cord," the thief said grimly. "Don't bea fool. The cat means nothing to you; you were merely a messenger boy.Give me the cat and you will be left alone."

  "Not until the evidence is destroyed," Rick thought. "Not until we'redead."

  "It's in the car," he repeated.

  Youssef lost his composure. He snapped an order in Arabic and the cordtightened. Rick gritted his teeth. Next to him, Scotty bent forward.

  "Don't try it," the thief grated. "I only need one of you." His blackeyes bored into Rick's. "One of my men watched you and Moustafa searchHassan's car this morning. The cat was not there. Where is it?"

  Rick started to shout that he didn't know, when a burst of shootingaccompanied by wild yells broke out outside. Youssef spoke quickly inArabic, then turned to the boys. "Sit down in those chairs. Move, andyou die. I will deal with you when I have found out what this is allabout."

  The shooting gained in volume and the yells increased. The boys took theseats and stared at the big Sudanese, who was covering them with theSten gun. The strangler's cord was draped carelessly about his neck.

  "That's a real gun fight outside," Scotty whispered.

  Rick nodded. He could detect several guns of different calibers, and thechatter of Sten guns was distinctive. What was going on?

  The shooting lessened, then stopped altogether. The shouting increased.The big Sudanese kept glancing over his shoulder at the doorway, asthough fearful of what he might see, but he always glanced back tooquickly for the boys to act.

  "Watch it," Scotty said from the corner of his mouth. Rick casually gothis feet under him and tensed.

  Scotty's eyes opened wide and he choked, "Inspector!"

  The Sudanese whirled, Sten gun ready, and the boys left their chairs ina bound. Rick dove for the thief's knees while Scotty smashed straightinto him like a battering ram. The big man toppled over backward, hisblazing Sten gun chipping plaster from the ceiling.

  Rick let go of his grip on the knees and clawed for the man's throat.Scotty concentrated on the Sten gun, grabbing the hot barrel and bendingbackward.

  The big Sudanese heaved, and Rick felt as though he was a terrierhanging to a wild bull. The man was incredibly strong. The boy grabbedhis throat in one hand and fended off crushing blows with the other.

  He was concentrating so hard on holding his grip that a newcomer who raninto the control room had to yell. "Get up, I said. All of you!" A heavyfoot crashed down on the Sten gun and held it.

  Rick looked up, dazed with effort, into the cold face of Kemel Moustafa.Third Brother had a Luger automatic, and he looked ready to use it.

  The boys rolled away and got to their feet. The Sudanese got to hisknees and started to get up. Moustafa struck with the Luger and the mancollapsed.

  The pistol muzzle pointed at Rick. "You double-crossed me," Moustafagrated. "You were supposed to give me the cat an hour ago at the hotel.Fortunately, I had one of my men follow Youssef, because I suspected hewould find the cat sooner or later. Give it to me."

  "Your men must have won the fight," Rick ventured.

  "They did. Conversation will not help. I have thought about this, and Iam certain Youssef did not get the cat. His presence here confirms it.Also, I believe that you thought it was in the car until we searched. IfYoussef did not take it, your own friend did. You would not leave it inthe hotel, so it must be here. Either you give it to me freely, or Iwill shoot you and take my chances on finding it."

  Rick hesitated.

  "Make up your mind!" Moustafa snapped. The pistol steadied on a linewith Rick's head.

  "Give it to him," Scotty said. "He means it."

  There were shots from outside again. Moustafa blazed, "Hurry! Youssef'smen must be loose. I count three and shoot! One, two...."

  "Hold it," Rick said hurriedly. "It's under the amplifier."

  He walked to the amplifier and bent, fumbling with the door latch. If hecould shield his motions, he could grab the cat, turn, and throw. Hemight be lucky ...

  "Just hand him the cat," Scotty said quickly.

  Rick seethed inside, but he knew Scotty was right. The Egyptian catwasn't worth his life, no matter what it contained. He opened the doorand took the cat out. Then he turned slowly and held it out to Moustafa.

  "You're being wise," Moustafa said. His eyes gleamed. He reached for thecat. Rick handed it to him.

  "Drop!" a voice yelled. Rick and Scotty dove to the floor on theinstant. Moustafa whirled, gun lifted to shoot, and saw no one.

  "The building is surrounded by police officers," the voice said. "Justdrop your gun." The voice came from outside the doorway, and it belongedto Ismail ben Adhem.

  Moustafa yelled desperately, "Don't try anything, or I shoot theAmericans!" He faced the empty doorway, ready.

  Ben's voice said, "If you will turn slowly, you will see a shotgunbarrel pointed at you through the window. If you turn rapidly, it fires.And, as you turn, another shotgun will come through the doorway to coveryou. You're all done, Kemel. Better drop it. I want you alive."

  Third Brother turned, slowly and carefully. Rick looked up and saw theshotgun barrel, as Ben had promised. He saw Ben step through thedoorway, a riot gun in his hands.

  Moustafa's Luger dropped to the floor.