Whitestone is trying to play another trick on us. He thinks we’ll panic and bolt and hightail it back to Pahzayk. Just keep your wits about you, 99. This will all be over in a moment.”

“I hope you’re right, Max.”

“99, have I ever been-”

At that moment, their friend signalled to a foursome of native men and they jumped Max and 99 and Hassan and dragged them off toward a hut.

“Max! Is it still an illusion?” 99 cried.

“99, everybody makes mistakes,” Max replied. “Nobody’s perfect, you know.”

The natives wrestled them into the hut, shoved them to the floor, then bound them hand and foot. After the natives had gone, their friend entered the hut.

“You’re making a big mistake!” Max told him. “This young lady and I are American citizens. Wait’ll the American Ambassador hears about this!”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll get a message from him, dad,” their friend smiled. “He always sends us a thank-you note.”

“A thank-you note?” Max said incredulously.

“Yeh, man. Why not? We always send him a drumstick.”

Max sighed. “Well, if we have to go,” he said to 99 and Hassan, “I guess this is the way to do it. At least, we’ll know we died for a good cause.”

“What cause, Max, for heaven’s sake?” 99 said.

“To feed the hungry.”

Just then, another native entered the hut. He, too, was dressed in colorful feathers. But he was also wearing a high, white chef’s hat.

“This is Pierre,” their friend said to Max, 99 and Hassan. “He’s in charge of the pot.”

“Hi, victims,” Pierre grinned. “What’s cookin’?”

“I suppose you matriculated in Boston, too,” Max said.

“In Paris, dad,” Pierre replied. “Funny you didn’t catchum the accent.” He bent down and pinched Max on the arm. “Tender,” he enthused. “A little gristle around the muscle-but it’ll boil down.” Next, he pinched 99’s arm. “Ooooo-la-la!” he said, “five minutes over the fire, and this one’ll just melt in your mouth.”

“Why, thank you,” 99 blushed.

“99, don’t let them brainwash you,” Max warned. “Think tough.”

Pierre pinched Hassan, and made a disagreeable face. “This one goes out with the garbage,” he said. “One bite out of him and a man wouldn’t have a tooth left in his head.”

Their friend untied Hassan and shoved him rudely out the door.

“You just made your first mistake,” Max said. “It so happens that that fellow you just let go is a four-star general in the New Ghirzy Army. And in about five minutes he will be back here with a troop of New Ghirzy Marines. So, if you know what’s good for yourselves, you’ll untie us, too, then light out for the hills.”

Their friend laughed. “A general? That little dishrag? He wouldn’t have brains enough to come in out of a bombardment.”

Max eyed him narrowly. “Would you believe, then, that he’s a captain in the Pahzayk police force, and that in five minutes he’ll be back here with a squad of foot patrolmen?”

Their friend shook his head. “Believability-wise, dad, it’s nowhere,” he said.

“Then would you believe that he’s the doorman at the Pahzayk Hilton and that in five minutes he’ll be back with a gaggle of chambermaids?”

“I can only say I hope so,” their friend replied. “As it stands, man, we got nothing for dessert. Chambermaid a la mode would hit the spot.”

“It’s no use, Max,” 99 wept. “Our goose is cooked.”

“That may be so, 99,” Max replied. “But I think there must be some better way of putting it.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” Pierre complained. “I just wish that once I’d get a roast that would keep it’s mouth shut.” He turned to Max’s and 99’s Mend. “Okay, let’s put them in the pot.”

Their friend untied the ropes at their feet, then helped them up. When they were upright, he steered them out of the hut. A large iron pot had been placed in the center of the clearing. Natives were piling wood around it.

“Oh, Max!” 99 wailed. “That pot is for us.”

“Courage, 99. Maybe nobody will have a match.”

When they reached the pot they saw that it was full of water.

“Last one in has to hold the vegetables,” Pierre said.

“You mean you want us to get into that pot, clothes and all?” Max said.

“What else?” Pierre replied. “All the vitamins are in the clothes.”

“And suppose we refuse?” Max said.

Their friend picked up Max and popped him into the pot. And Pierre picked up 99 and put her in beside him.

“I guess that answers my question,” Max said.

Another native joined the party. He was carrying a suitcase, which he placed on the ground, then opened. The suitcase was filled with miniature apothecary jars that contained herbs and spices.

“Sit down in the pot,” Pierre commanded Max and 99. “You don’t want to come out underdone on your top end, do you?”

“I’ll stand, if it’s all the same to you,” Max said.

Pierre pushed him down into the water. “What kind of a stew are you? Don’t you have any pride?” He reached down to the open suitcase and got a salt shaker and a pepper shaker, then salted and peppered Max and 99 thoroughly. After that, he shook some cloves out of a jar into his hand, and held out his hand to them. “Stuff these in your ears,” he said.

“Now, just a darn minute!” Max said testily. “I happen to know a little bit about cooking myself, and cloves in the ears just isn’t done!”

Pierre offered the cloves again. “How about between the toes?”

“Never!” Max said indignantly. “But I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll-”

He was unable to complete the suggestion. The village was suddenly pervaded by a terrible odor. The natives grasped their throats, choking. Panic seized them; they scattered, running into the jungle.

“Max! It’s horrible!” 99 cried, her eyes watering.

“Quick, 99! Dive under the water! And hold your nose!”

Max and 99 ducked beneath the surface. They remained submerged until they could no longer hold their breath. Then, gasping for air, they raised their heads above the water.

“It’s wave naw, wine-wine,” Max said.

“I can’t understand you, Max,” 99 said. “You’re still holding your nose.”

“Oh. I said, it’s safe now, 99.”

“Max, what was that odor?” 99 said. “It was terrible!”

“Elementary, my dear 99,” Max replied. “That terrible odor that panicked the natives of this village was the same terrible odor that, a few weeks ago, panicked the natives of that small village in England. Do you realize what that means, 99? It means that Dr. Livingstrom is somewhere in the vicinity. It was an ill wind that carried that odor to us.”

“Max, it saved our lives. The natives all ran away.”

“Well, it was a nice ill wind.”

“Where is the odor now, Max?”

“Obviously, the wind has shifted. The odor has gone back to where it came from.”

“Oh, Max, if we only knew where!”

“We’ll find it, 99.”

“How, Max?”

“By using the oldest tracking method in the book, 99,” Max replied confidently. “We’ll just follow our noses.”

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