Glad to change the subject, Adam said, “I don’t know but he gave us three scarabs.”
Isabel widened her eyes. “He did what? He gave them to you? No haggling?”
Justin shook his head and pointed to his cousin. “Not a bit. Adam’s got them.”
“Believe it or not,” Adam mumbled, digging in his rucksack. “Here they are.” He held the scarabs out in the palm of his hand.
Isabel examined them. The scarabs were carved from bluish stone with hieroglyphics scratched underneath, just like the dozens of other scarabs they’d seen in stalls that morning.
“I’m sorry to say this, but they don’t look very special to me.” She shook her head and handed them back to Adam. “These are just fakes made for tourist souvenirs.”
“But he ran away after he saw the police,” Adam protested. “He shouted something about postcards and then ran off.”
Isabel frowned. “I wonder what made him give them to you in the first place.”
Adam thought that perhaps his mention of the Scarab King had drawn the man to them. Before he could open his mouth to say so, Justin elbowed him in the ribs. Adam remembered how their aunt felt about the Scarab King and adventures. That stopped him from saying what he really thought.
“Um … I guess he thought we were going to pay any old price. Maybe he saw the police officers and they scared him off,” he said instead, glancing at Justin.
Deciding to say nothing else, Adam tucked the scarabs back into his rucksack and the threesome began to walk around and look at more stalls. After a while, they made their way back to the museum steps where they could see Gran waiting. Justin called out to his grandmother. He took a photo of her with Isabel’s camera as she smiled and waved. By now, they were tired and their clothes were sticking to their hot skin.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish