brought you the moly. For your protection.'
'Thanks. Now tell me more about the Americans who came to see me.'
'One was tall and thin with red hair and a little beard on his chin.' Nikos rubbed his chin, indicating the sparse beard. 'The other one was shorter and had a big beard. And look. I have something for you.' He reached under the counter, and held out a coiled whip. 'Your tall friend wanted me to give this to you before you saw him. He said you would know about it. Then he was going to walk into your room. But the soldiers came.'
Indy took the whip and ran his hands over it. That confirmed it. Shannon was here, but he still didn't know the identity of the other man.
'Indy, I have another question about America.'
He wasn't in the mood for small talk. 'It's not a very good time, but go ahead.'
'Is it true that Americans put applesauce on their bread?'
Indy stared at him. 'What are you talking about?'
He held up the book he'd been reading. 'In here the girl eats bread like that.' It was a ragged-looking copy of
'Where did you get that book?'
'One of the Americans gave it to me. The shorter one with the beard,'
Indy remembered that day in Le Dome in Paris when Ted Conrad had talked about meeting Booth Tarkington and showed him his used copy. He took the book, and opened the cover. It was signed by Tarkington and in scribed, 'To Ted—best of luck in your writing.'
But what in the world was Conrad, his old history professor, doing here, and why with Shannon? They didn't
know each other. And why did Mandraki want to keep them away from him?
'Look, I found this in the book,' Nikos said. 'Do you know him?'
He handed Indy a picture of a handsome, smiling man who looked about Indy's age. He was standing beside what looked like a Greek statue and behind him were the stone steps of an amphitheatre.
'Never seen him in my life,' Indy said. He tapped the edge of the photograph against the counter and frowned. 'You said my friends were taken by soldiers. Were they asked nicely to go with them, like an escort?'
He shook his head. 'Nothing nice about it. They were taken like criminals, and Colonel Mandraki was the one who was in charge.'
'Where would they take them?'
'I don't know, but they left in the direction of the ruins.'
'That's a start. I'm going to look for them. Can I keep this?' He held up the photograph.
'If you let me go with you.'
Indy hesitated. 'I don't want you to get in trouble, Nikos.'
'I can help you find them. I know good hideouts near the ruins. We can look there.'
Indy slipped the photograph inside his jacket pocket, and hooked the whip on his belt. 'Okay, but just remem ber that we're not playing hide-and-seek with these sol diers. This is serious business.'
'I know. Do you have the moly?'
Indy forced a smile. 'Yeah.'
A few minutes later, they mounted horses. Indy touched a hand to his sore ribs, then nudged the sides of his horse and they rode off at a gallop. As they neared the ruins, Indy gestured toward the workshop and they turned off the road. The place appeared quiet and deserted, but he wanted to check anyhow. They dismounted near the sta bles, and walked cautiously towards the workshop.
He tried the door, and was surprised to find it unlocked. Slowly, he pushed it open. A kerosene lamp was burning on the long table.
He moved along the rows of shelves stacked with stone tablets, looking down each aisle. There was no sign of Dorian or anyone else. He was heading back toward the door when he noticed something white and filamentous protruding from one of the lockers. He dropped to one knee, and felt the material. He was almost sure he knew what it was. He opened the door. He was right. It was Dorian's dress, the one she'd worn this evening to the reception. She'd been here, and changed. The fact that she hadn't gone back to the hotel meant she and Mandraki were in a hurry.
He was about to close the door when he noticed a sheet of paper taped to the back wall of the locker. On it were three columns of numbers. The first two sets of numbers read across the page as: 1
4:23 P.M.
(3:05)
1
7:28 P.M.
(3:11)
It didn't take long to figure out what it was. The number on the left represented days, and day one, he was certain, was the day they arrived and had started monitoring the vapors. In the center column were the times of the risings and the numbers on the right represented the length of time between risings.
He ran his finger down the page and realized that it was not only a record of previous risings, but a schedule of future ones for the next several days. One set of numbers was underlined. It read: 9
11:41 A.M.
(6:53)
Indy counted the days since they had arrived. Today was the eighth. Tomorrow morning the king would visit the ruins and the vapors would rise at 11:41. That could be useful. He quickly memorized the times of the risings for the next couple of days.
'There's nobody here,' Nikos said.
'I know. They were here and left, and wherever they went, Dorian didn't want to wear her dress.'
'Maybe she didn't want to get it dirty.'
Indy nodded. 'Could be. Know of any dirty hiding places where they might have taken my friends?'
Nikos thought a moment. 'There's a cave above the ruins.'
'Do you think Dorian knows about it?'
'I know she does.'
'How do you know?' Indy persisted.
Nikos suddenly looked uneasy. His dark eyes darted about. He scuffed his shoes on the floorboards.
'You see, one day when I was twelve, I did something bad.'
'Go on.'
'I followed Dr. Belecamus and a boyfriend up there. I snuck in the cave after them, and watched them do it.''This boyfriend. You mean the colonel?'
Nikos shook his head. 'No. Someone else. A helper. Someone like you. A student.'
So she made a habit of getting involved with her graduate students, Indy thought. Real nice. He didn't know why, but he felt jealous, betrayed.
'Come on. Let's go take a look.'
They followed a trail to the ruins, and ascended to the old stadium which was beyond the theater. From there Nikos led the way to a wooded path. He pointed toward the dark mountainside above them. 'It's right about there.'
Indy didn't see anything but the silhouette of trees against the moonlit sky. It didn't look promising, but they didn't have much choice. The path was steep and
twisted around boulders. With almost every step, shoots of pain flashed through his sore ribs and thigh.
But he kept going, impelled by the dark cloud of Dorian's betray al. Finally, Nikos stopped and pointed. The moonlight revealed a ledge about three feet wide. 'It's just a little farther,' he whispered.
The ledge curved around an outcropping of rock. It narrowed; Indy's feet were only inches from the edge.
