Sherlock Holmes and the Mummy's Curse Read Online Free PDF

my friend and colleague, Doctor John H. Watson.”
    “Indeed,” the young man smiled, taking their hands and shaking in turn. “My name is Landers Phillips; I’m Professor Whitesell’s doctoral student and assistant. We had your telegrams, and he sent me to fetch you back to camp. But you’re later than we expected; based on your message from Safaga, we thought you’d be here two days ago, until we got your telegram from Qina this morning.”
    “A little matter of some… spoiled… food,” Watson offered, “and a temporary camp in the desert became an extended stay.”
    “Oh!” Phillips exclaimed, shocked. “Are you both well?”
    “Thanks to Watson, we are now.” Holmes shot his friend a smile.
    “Good, then. Is Omar here with—? Ah, there he is,” Phillips said, as Omar and two of his men unloaded trunks and bags from the rear of the launch. When Phillips put two fingers to his mouth and delivered a sharp whistle, Omar looked up, spotted the younger man, who was now waving, and nodded; he turned to his men and pointed, and they began carrying the baggage up the quay. Phillips continued, “Mind where you walk. Some areas down near the river banks fairly swarm with cobras; I understand they like the water. You’ll need to look out by the dig, too. There’s a nest of ’em somewhere, because one shows up now and again, but we haven’t located where they’re coming from. Now, I have a donkey cart over here for all of your things, and a dogcart for us to ride in. The Professor will be waiting dinner on us.”
    “He still holds communal dinners, then?” Holmes asked, following the young man off the quay and under the shade of a clump of date palms nearby. There, the aforementioned carts awaited.
    “He does,” Phillips confirmed. “He says it bonds the party better. I’m not entirely sure I agree with him, but there it is. You’ll see what I mean, soon enough. And of course prayer tents for our Muslim workers, and such. Climb in, gentlemen. Tariq is driving the baggage cart; he knows the way, and will follow along after with your things. I’ll just take care of your travelling expenses and we’ll be off.”
    “No need, my good man,” Holmes noted, reaching for his pocket-book. “We budgeted for porters and the like.”
    “No, no!” Phillips waved him off with a smile. “I have express orders from the Professor, and I dare not contravene them! Else it is apt to be my hide adorning the museum! You are an expert consultant brought in for the purpose of helping us decipher any writings we may discover, so the university will cover your expenses, and glad of it. Dr. Watson, too; it is always good to have a physician on site, in case of injury or the like, as Professor Whitesell said—especially, I suppose, with those blasted snakes in the area, though they’ve not truly threatened anyone so far. Besides, if we find what we hope to find, it will end up in the British Museum, and we’ll all be famous! In with you, now!”
    The pair clambered in; Phillips paid Omar and the captain of the Akhenaten , then he joined them, took up the reins of the shaggy little pony, and they were off.

CHAPTER 2
    Introductions and Reacquaintances
    —::—
    When they arrived at the dig, there was a large white awning erected off to one side, a big hardwood table standing underneath, set with a pristine white tablecloth and linens, proper silver, crystal, and china; a sideboard sat nearby. Clustered around this awning were several more tables, less elegant, where the local diggers ate. Some of these had canvas shades and others did not. Dirty, dusty Egyptians—obviously the diggers, by the state and style of their clothing—milled around the outer tables, tolerantly awaiting the food. Under the awning a more dapper, if still dusty, group stood. Most of them had skin browned almost as dark as the native Egyptians, proof of their active outdoor profession. One gentleman, somewhat shorter than the others, stocky, and