Get Smart 7 - Max Smart - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold by William Johnston Page B

Max began.
    “Later, chap,” Desmond interrupted. “Work to be done, you know.” He turned to Archie. “Shall we shove off?”
    “Charming thought, old boy!”
    Archie and Desmond set about getting the houseboat back out onto the river.
    “What the devil is going on?” von BOOM said to Max.
    “You’re a fine one to ask that,” Max replied. “Where were you when those river pirates kidnapped us?”
    “Pirates? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was reading and the light suddenly went out. I went down the basement to change the fuse, and when I came back, you were both gone.”
    “That isn’t important now,” 99 said. “Get us out of this tape.”
    As quickly as he could, von BOOM unwrapped the lengths of tape that were binding Max and 99. Just as he finished the job, Archie and Desmond reappeared, having successfully launched the houseboat.
    “I’m afraid we’ll have to take offense at that, old fellow,” Desmond said to von BOOM. “Diddling with another person’s property is . . . well, it’s—”
    “Very British,” Archie said.
    “Even so, we can’t allow it,” Desmond continued. “Very important, you know, to have these two authenticated. And, loose like this, they might take advantage of the freedom and trot off to . . . to Heaven knows where. Under the circumstances, I rather believe we’ll have to hold you all prisoner.” He turned to Archie. “Do you have the firearm, old chap?” he asked.
    “Now, look—” Max said.
    “Terribly sorry, Des. I believe I left it on the motorbike,” Archie broke in.
    Desmond chuckled. “Oh, Archie, you are your father’s son, aren’t you?”
    “Yes . . . afraid so. You see, I had it here in my rear pocket, and the motorbike was jouncing around— What, ho! Here it is, Des. I didn’t leave it on the motorbike, after all. There’s a good bit of mother in me, too, apparently.” He handed a pistol to Desmond.
    Desmond, in turn, pointed it in the general direction of Max, 99 and von BOOM. “Since we seem to hold all the cards, and since it’s such a beastly hot day, shall we all just sit down, and, as the Americans say, refrigerate it?” he smiled.
    “Cool it,” Max corrected.
    “Ah, yes—slang terms haven’t changed much in thousands and thousands of years, eh?”
    They all settled into deck chairs.
    “Too bad we can’t phone ahead to the papers, Des,” Archie said. “This will raise quite a flap, I imagine—two mummies, thousands and thousands of years old, and still living. It’s the sort of thing the press makes a large to-do about.”
    “Would be rather nice,” Desmond agreed. “But, of course, there’s no way to signal.”
    “Far be it from me to be a sorehead,” Max said. “If you want to, you can use my shoe.”
    “How very accommodating.”
    Max removed his shoe and handed it to Desmond who got up and began waving it about.
    “That won’t work,” Max said.
    “I’m perfectly aware of that, chap. But, since you were so nice to offer it, I thought I’d at least go through the motions.”
    “It’s a telephone,” Max explained. “Remove the heel and dial.”
    Doubtfully, Desmond detached the heel. Finding the dial, he brightened. “By Harry! I’ve heard that you chaps back in ancient times were centuries ahead of us in some matters, but this— Fantastic!”
    He dialed the Information Operator in Alexandria and got the numbers of the various newspapers, then telephoned each one and talked to a reporter. After he had finished spreading the news, he handed Max’s shoe back to him.
    “They’ll all be at the dock to meet us,” Desmond advised Archie. “I suspect, old chap, that we’re in for a round of world-wide acclaim. Famous, and all that rot.”
    “You’ll look like a couple of hoods, carrying that gun,” Max said.
    Desmond sat up, startled. “Good gracious! You’re absolutely right. A pistol would look frightful in the newspaper pictures.”
    “Chuck it overboard, Des,” Archie