Early the next morning, by prior arrangement, Max and 99 met Hassan Pfeiffer at the edge of the jungle. Hassan, as he had promised, had brought the supplies they would need for the long trek into the interior.
“Let’s see what we have here,” Max said, inspecting the supplies. “A dozen cans of peaches. . a fly swatter. . a number of-” He looked back over his shoulder at Hassan. “A fly swatter?”
“For malaria,” Hassan explained.
“I don’t think I quite understand that.”
“With the fly swatter, you swat the tsetse fly before it bites you. That way, you don’t get malaria.”
“Good idea,” Max said. “I wonder why the scientists didn’t think of that.” He turned his attention back to the supplies. “Another dozen cans of peaches. A can of-”
There was a ringing sound.
“There’s the doorbell,” Hassan said.
“No, Hassan, that’s my shoe,” Max explained. “You see, actually, it’s a telephone. I think my chief is calling me.”
Max removed his shoe and put it to his ear.
Max: Yes, Chief?
Chief: Max, I was getting a little worried. I haven’t heard from you.
Max: We’re A-OK, Chief. Nothing to worry about. We’ve found out that Dr. Livingstrom has gone into the jungle, and we’ve hired ourselves a native guide and we’re about to set out to find him.
Operator: That’s not how Arnold would do it. Arnold would form a safari.
Max: Sure. And get himself tied up in a lot of paperwork. I don’t doubt it. Incidentally, Chief. . have you rejected Arnold yet?
Chief: I haven’t even seen him, Max.
Operator: That’s impossible. He started out for Headquarters two days ago.
Chief: Maybe he got lost.
Operator: No. His mother was with him.
Max: She’s right, Chief. 99 and I met Arnold and his mother outside headquarters two days ago. The last time I saw him, he was entering the building. But, frankly, judging from what I saw of him, if he hasn’t turned up, it’s no great loss.
Operator: Chief, look around-he must be there somewhere.
Chief: I’ll send out a search party. Max-are you still there? Have you seen that KAOS agent yet?
Max: Not exactly, Chief. But we have made contact. He lured us into a hamburger joint that wasn’t there and for a second we were in danger of drowning.
Operator: Arnold would never drown in a hamburger joint.
Chief: Keep your eyes open, Max. And don’t believe anything you see. It may be an illusion.
Max: I’ll remember that, Chief.
Chief: Good luck, Max.
Operator: Never mind about him, Chief. Go look for Arnold.
Max hung up and slipped his shoe back onto his foot.
“Well, are we ready?” he said to 99 and Hassan.
“You haven’t finished checking the supplies, Max,” 99 said.
“There’s no more time for that,” Max replied. “Besides, I trust Hassan. It’s very important, 99, to trust your guide. After all, when you go into the jungle, you’re putting your life in your guide’s hands. If you don’t trust him, you shouldn’t be going into the jungle with him in the first place. Right?”
“That makes sense, Max.”
“All right, then, as the natives say-‘Mush!’ ”
Hassan loaded the pack containing the supplies on his back, and led the way into the undergrowth. Max and 99 followed close at his heels. The going soon became extremely difficult. Jungle vines criss-crossed the trail, forming an almost impenetrable barrier. Hassan had to hack the path through the vines with a machete.
“It is very tough going,” Hassan panted.
“It’s a wonder they haven’t built a highway through here,” Max said.
“The highway is about a mile to the east of here,” Hassan replied.
Max halted. “There’s a highway? Then why aren’t we using it?”
“The traffic is terrible,” Hassan explained. “This way is faster.”
“I guess I know what you mean,” Max said. “We have the same trouble in Washington at rush hour.”
“Max. .” 99 said uneasily, “I know we’re supposed to trust Hassan, but. . Well, if Dr. Livingstrom came this way, didn’t he clear a path? And, if he cleared a path, why is it that we have to clear a path again?”
Max put a finger to his lips and shook his head.
“But, Max-”
“99, please,” Max said, speaking softly, “you’ll offend Hassan. You’re as much as intimating that he’s not telling us the truth.”
“But, Max,” 99 whispered, “I don’t understand. Why do we have to clear a path where a path has already been cleared?”
“It’s obvious,” Max replied. “This isn’t the way Dr. Livingstrom went. He probably took the highway. But, don’t forget, he’s days ahead of us. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“That’s why we’re hacking our way through the jungle?”
“Right. You heard what Hassan said about the highway. This is the shortcut.”
“Oh.”
“Instead of wasting your time questioning Hassan’s truthfulness, think about that notation that was found in Dr. Livingstrom’s laboratory,” Max said. “If we can figure out that formula, we won’t need Dr. Livingstrom.”
“All right, Max. Let’s see,” she mused, “Brassica Oleracia-212°. What could that be?”
“Let’s try it syllable by syllable,” Max said. “Now, the first syllable is ‘brass’. Brass is a metal. Iron is also a metal. Maybe Dr. Livingstrom created the odor by leaving the iron on and scorching a shirt. That makes a terrible smell.”
“I don’t think that’s it, Max.”
“99, we have to try every possibility. Only by leaving no stone unturned-”
They had entered a small clearing. Hassan stopped, breathing heavily. “We will rest here,” he said.
“Good idea,” Max agreed. “Let me help you get that pack off your back.”
“You’re a nice secret agent,” Hassan smiled.
Max placed the pack on a large rock. “Now then,” he said. “Brassica Oleracia-212°. If we transpose the letters, substituting-”
He was interrupted by a ringing sound.
“There’s the doorbell again,” Hassan said.
“My telephone,” Max corrected, removing his shoe.
Max: Yes, Chief. What is it?
Voice: Yes, Chief, what? Is Hazel there?
Max: Is that you again? You’ve made the same mistake. You’ve dialed a wrong number.
Voice: Who is this? The dummy?
Max: No, the dummy telephone is back at Headquarters. At the moment, I’m talking on my shoe.
Voice: That’s what I thought-I got the dummy again. Look, dummy, when Hazel comes in, will you have her call Fred?
Max: You don’t-
(the line went dead)
Max put his shoe back on his foot. “The next time he calls,” he grumbled, “I’m not even going to answer.”
“Max!” 99 suddenly shrieked. “Our supplies! The pack! Look! It’s gone!”
Max stared at the rock. The pack, indeed, had disappeared.
“Whitestone!” he said.
“White?” Hassan said. “That rock isn’t white. It’s more like an off-gray.”
“Hassan, there’s something I’d better tell you,” Max said grimly. “We have an enemy-a secret agent who works for the Bad Guys. His name is Whitestone. And, apparently, he has followed us into the jungle. He has the ability to make things look like they’re really not. That rock, for instance, is obviously not a rock.”
Hassan bent forward, looking closely at the rock. Then he looked back at Max. “Sure,” he grinned. “I see it now. It’s not a rock, it’s a roast duck-right?”
“No, it isn’t a roast duck,” Max replied. “I know, it’s hard to believe that that rock is anything but a rock, but take my word for it-Whitestone is somewhere nearby, and, by magic, he’s making us think that whatever it is that’s sitting there is a rock. In fact, however- Look, I’ll prove it to you.” He took a capsule from his pocket. Reading the label on the capsule, he said, “We won’t need this. It’s a duplicate of the football stadium at the University of Oklahoma-in miniaturized form, of course.” He placed the capsule on the rock. Slowly, it disappeared. “There you are,” he said to Hassan. “Are you convinced?”
Hassan blinked, astounded. “Son of a gun!”
“Max, what is that rock, really?” 99 said.
“Elementary, my dear 99,” Max replied. “Actually, that rock is a patch of quicksand.”
“Amazing!” 99 said.
“More than that. Terrible,” Hassan said. “Our supplies are gone. We have no food. We have no water. We’re doomed.”
“Not quite,” Max smiled. “I imagine that R amp; D has anticipated an emergency such as this.” He got a handful of capsules from his pocket. “Let’s see what we have here.” He began reading the labels. “A fully-armed Coast Guard cutter. A squadron of World War I fighter planes-with pilots. A landing strip for a squadron of World War I fighter planes. Twenty-nine years’ back issues of the Sunday New York Times. A- Ah, here’s what we want. A complete field kitchen and a year’s supply of food and water. This ought to take care of our problem. I’ll just-”
He was interrupted by a ringing sound.
“Somebody get the doorbell,” Hassan said.
“Excuse me,” Max said, placing the capsules on the rock. “That was my phone.”
He took off his shoe and put it to his ear.
Max: Chief? Is that you?
Voice: Chief who? This is Hazel. Any messages for me?
Max: You’re to call Fred.
Voice: Got it.
Max hung up. “Now then, I’ll just-”
“Max, you put the capsules on the rock,” 99 said woefully. “They disappeared.”
“I don’t care for your tone, 99,” Max said woundedly. “It’s a mistake anybody could have made.”
“Sorry, Max.”
“We’re sunk!” Hassan groaned.
“Not at all,” Max said. “True, without food and water our mission is going to be more of a challenge, but we are definitely not sunk. Eventually, we’ll reach a native village. When we do, we can stock up on food and water again. Our duty now, as I see it, is to push on. Hassan-which way do we go from here?”
“That way looks like a good way,” Hassan replied, pointing. “But then, on the other hand, that other way looks like a good way, too. I guess it’s a toss-up.”
“Some guide,” 99 said. “You’re supposed to know the way.”
He shrugged. “That’s what you get when you get a cheap guide.”
“Never mind,” Max said. “I’ll just climb up here on this rock and see if I can spot a trail.”
“Max!” 99 screamed.
But the warning was too late. Max was sinking slowly beneath the surface.
“99!” he called. “Give me a hand!”
Frantically, 99 reached out and got hold of his hand.
“Pull, 99!”
She pulled. But Max remained stuck in the quicksand.
“Max, you’ll have to help!” 99 cried.
“All right-I’ll pull.”
He pulled. And 99 joined him in the quicksand.
“I don’t think that was a very good idea, 99,” Max said, as they both sank deeper and deeper into the mire.
“Max! Don’t criticize! Do something!”
“Hassan!” Max commanded. “Get a pole! Quick!”
“I know just the place,” Hassan said. “A little shop that specializes in poles. I know the owner. He’ll give me a good deal.”
“Hurry!” Max cried.
Hassan dashed off into the jungle.
“Where are you going!” Max called.
“To the shop.”
“Where is it?”
“Back in Pahzayk!” Hassan called back, disappearing into the underbrush.
“A lot of good that’ll do,” Max grumbled. “But, at least, his heart’s in the right place. He’s trying to save us money.”
“Max, what good will money do us? We’re sinking. We’ll be gone by the time Hassan gets back.”
“You’re right, 99. Maybe we better leave a message for him. I wouldn’t want him to think we ran out on him.”
“Forget about Hassan, Max! Think about us!”
“99, for every problem, there’s a solution. That’s elementary logic.”
“We’re almost up to our chins, Max. What’s the solution to that?”
“Let’s stand on tippy-toes.”
“Oh, Max. . Max. . we’re going fast, Max,” 99 wept. “Good-bye, Max.”
“Hold on, 99! The capsules! I still have a number of them in my pocket. Maybe one of them will provide a means for getting us out of this.”
“Can you get them, Max?”
“Yes. . I think. .” He pulled his arm up out of the quicksand. His hand was clutching a half-dozen capsules. “I have them!”
“What are they, Max?”
“Let me see. I’ll scrape the quicksand off this label, and. . do we have any use for a snow plow, 99?”
She peered up toward the sky. “It doesn’t look much like snow, Max. Try another capsule.”
Max read another label. “A yoke of oxen?”
“I don’t think there’d be room in here for all of us,” 99 said. “Keep trying.”
“A dinner service for twelve?” Max said, reading again.
“Oh, Max, it’s no use. Hassan was right-we’re sunk!”
“No, 99, we’re saved! Here’s the capsule that contains twelve thousand gallons of liquid plastic. I’ll just press this button, and-”
Max sprayed the surface of the quicksand with plastic. Instantly, it hardened.
“Max! We are! We’re saved!” 99 cried happily.
With a hard surface to use as leverage, Max and 99 pulled themselves from the quicksand, then walked across the plastic to dry ground.
“Good old R amp; D,” Max said. “They think of everything-eventually.”
At that moment, Hassan came rushing back. He was gasping for breath. “I was half-way there,” he panted.
“You don’t have the pole,” Max pointed out. “What happened?”
“I had to come back,” Hassan said. “You didn’t tell me what size pole. A short pole? A long pole? You didn’t say. If I’d got a short pole, it might not have reached. And if I’d got a long pole, it might have been too long. We’d have had a length of pole that we couldn’t use. And this pole shop won’t accept returns. It’s cash and carry. You’re stuck with all the pole you buy, whether you need it or not. You can see the problem I had?”
Max turned to 99. “See? I told you he was trustworthy. How many guides do you find these days who think about expenses?”
“He’s a jewel,” 99 said dryly.
“Well, I see you’re safe,” Hassan smiled. “Shall we push on now?”
“Yes, and quickly,” Max said. “Every moment that we delay we’re losing ground. Dr. Livingstrom already has several days head start on us. Hassan, is there a native village anywhere nearby? We’re still in need of food and water.”
“There should be one around here somewhere,” Hassan replied. “Why don’t you climb up on that rock and look around.”
“Good idea. I’ll- No, on second thought, that isn’t such a good idea, Hassan. You’re forgetting something. That rock is really a patch of quicksand.”
“Slipped my mind,” Hassan said apologetically.
“Just watch it,” Max warned. “If you were responsible for getting me caught in that quicksand again, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to overlook it-in spite of your excellent record, to date, on keeping expenses down.”
“I understand,” Hassan replied, looking sheepish. “And, in the future, I will do as you say-I will watch it. In my country, we have a saying: The bird that flies down the chimney will never be served breakfast in bed.”
“Yes. . well, that’s a nice little saying,” Max nodded. “What exactly does it mean?”
“What it says,” Hassan replied.
Max nodded again. “I see. And, come to think of it, it makes a lot of sense. Any bird who flew down a chimney probably would be in no condition to eat even if it were served breakfast in bed.” He turned to 99. “We’re very fortunate, 99,” he said. “Not only do we have a guide who watches the pennies, but, in Hassan, we also have a sage, a wise man and an all ’round good Joe.”
“He’s a jewel,” 99 said sourly.