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"Can you take us to Abd El Aziz Street?" "Not far. Near El Mouski." As Hassan drove off, at the usual high velocity, Rick asked, "Do you know Fuad Moustafa?" "Hear name," Hassan said. "But not know. What number street he live?" Rick took the letter from his pocket, switched on the dome light, and scanned it. There was no address given in English.
Moustafa was on the message I gave you. If you intend to visit him, you will have no trouble. His house is also his office, and it is very well known. Just tell Hassan to take you to Abd El Aziz Street." The boys thanked him, somewhat relieved that Fuad Moustafa apparently was so well known. Outside, Hassan was waiting. "Not so tired?" he greeted them. "Not too tired for a short trip," Rick said.
And Laeg said, "Men call it Slieve Modurn, after a giant of the elder time, when men were mightier and greater than they are now. He was of the children of Brogan, uncle of Milesius, and his brothers were Fuad and Eadar and Breagh, and all these being very great men are commemorated in the names of noble mountains and sea-dividing promontories." "Guide thither the horses," said Cuculain.
Remember how valiantly he faced the fierce water-dog and slew him at one cast." When he climbed to the roof, as his manner was, to gaze at the mountain, he thought that Slieve Fuad nodded to him and beckoned.
Emeritus of the Imperial University of Tokyo; Baron Yoshiro Sakatani, member of the House of Peers of Japan and Mehmed Fuad, Doyen of the Faculty of Letters and President of the Institute of Turkish history.
The clerk asked him to wait and Rick put his hand over the mouthpiece and turned to Scotty. "The first sensible suggestion we've had. Let's go call on Fuad Moustafa. If there are lights, we'll pay him a visit. If not, we'll come back. I'm anxious to get this settled." "So am I," Scotty agreed, then added, "Only let's be sure this isn't a trap." The clerk came back on the line. "Hassan is here.
I arrived this morning because I had gone to the radio telescope to look for them.... Yes ... yes, most certainly I will try to find out who has caused them such trouble. Ali and Fuad are in Beirut. It is because of our father. You know that he has been very ill? Yes, by all means send a cable. It will be appreciated. And now, if you will tell Mr. Brant ... yes ... ma'e salamet Ellah, Mohammed.
R. Brant, care of the hotel, and the return address was in Arabic. Rick waited until they were in their room to open it. A quick glance showed that the room had not been searched, or if it had, with greater care than the last time. He ripped open the envelope and took out a sheet of paper, the letterhead printed in Arabic except for the name Fuad Moustafa. "Fuad Moustafa," he said aloud.
"But why would a thief want the cat?" Scotty asked. Moustafa shook his head. "I do not know. Unless he intends to sell the model to a manufacturer, or to produce cats for sale himself. Or, if he knows how much time, money, and planning we have invested in this cat, he may see it as a means of revenge on the Moustafas because Fuad would not take his case."
"I have been to Khartoum on business," he said. "Last night I returned to the city and found that a family emergency had taken both of my brothers out of town. Fuad left very suddenly, after he had written to you. I apologize on his behalf. However, he must be excused, since a call from Ali, in Beirut, sent him running to the airport to catch the next flight.
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