“Whitestone! Or my number isn’t 86!” Max said.
“We’ll get him this time, Max.”
“Down, 99! Duck out of sight! We can’t take a chance on him spotting us!”
“Right, Max!”
They lowered their heads, crouching down in the undergrowth.
Soon they heard a crackling sound-the sound of twigs snapping. A moment later they heard a crash and a shriek.
“We got him!” Max cried, leaping up.
They sprang from the underbrush and rushed to the edge of the pit and peered in. And there they saw their captive. Not the tall, white-haired, distinguished-looking Whitestone, however. But the short, squat, dark Hassan Pfeiffer.
Hassan grinned up at them. “I saw your spotlight,” he said. “I couldn’t resist it. It reminded me of my days on the stage. I was only six years old-a child prodigy! I recited a poem that I learned at my mother’s knee. Like to hear it? It goes:
By the shores of Lake Ontaria,
Where the night is dark and scaria. .
Quickly, Max and 99 began piling vines and branches over the opening.
6
After Hassan had been discouraged from continuing the recitation of the poem, Max and 99 hauled him up out of the pit. He explained where he had been.
“After that chef tossed me out, I rushed back to Pahzayk to get the police and a fork,” he said.
“Police, I understand. You wanted the police to rescue us,” Max said. “But-a fork?”
“I figured we might be too late to save you,” Hassan replied. “But why let the food go to waste?”
“Oh. . yes, I see.”
“But I couldn’t get the police to come,” Hassan went on. “There’s talk in Pahzayk about a band of rebels who are going to try to overthrow the government. The police are busy guarding the Government Building.”
“Fortunately, we didn’t need them,” Max said. “When that terrible odor pervaded the village, we were able to escape. Since then, we’ve been setting traps for Whitestone. But, apparently, he isn’t going to cooperate.”
Hassan frowned thoughtfully. “I have been thinking about this Whitestone matter,” he said. “I have decided that there is no reason to worry about him. I think he does not exist.”
“I’m afraid that doesn’t make much sense, Hassan,” Max replied.
“It is my opinion that Whitestone is an illusion,” Hassan insisted.
“But what about those ants that looked like elephants-and then vanished?”
“They were an illusion.”
“Exactly. And it takes an illusionist to create an illusion-right?”
“Ah. . but what is an illusion?” Hassan smiled. “It is something that does not exist-correct? And since the illusions did not exist, then obviously we did not see them. And, if we did not see them, how can you base your contention that the illusionist exists on the fact that we saw the illusions?”
Max turned to 99. “Well, that problem’s solved,” he said. “We don’t have to worry about Whitestone any more. He doesn’t exist.”
“Max,” she replied, “what do you believe? Hassan’s theory? Or what you saw with your own eyes?”
Max turned back to Hassan. “What do you have to say to that?”
“Can you see your own eyes?” Hassan smiled.
Max tried to look at his own eyes, but found it impossible. “No, as a matter of fact, I can’t,” he answered.
“Then, clearly, they do not exist. They are an illusion,” Hassan told him.
“Max, are we going to stand around listening to this nonsense or are we going to track down Dr. Livingstrom?” 99 said sharply.
“Nonsense? 99, when I started out on this mission, I had two very competent, very blue eyes. But somewhere between Pahzayk and here I lost them. To you that may be nonsense, but to me it’s very serious business.”
“Max, I’m going! You can come with me or stay here!”
“I’m coming, 99. But you’ll have to take my hand. I can’t see a thing.”
“Oh. . Max!”
“Hassan, you lead the way,” Max said. “You can be my seeing-eye guide.”
“Max,” 99 said angrily. “I won’t go one step until you-”
A sudden snorting sound was heard. The three whipped around. A huge hippo was standing in the middle of the trail. It snorted again-an angry sound.
“99, I see it!” Max cried happily. “My eyes are back!”
“Are you sure it is not an illusion?” Hassan smiled.
At that moment, the hippo lowered its head and charged.
“No, I’m not sure,” Max replied. “But, in this case, I think Rule 17 applies. Rule 17 is: Run first, think later.”
Max, 99 and Hassan dashed up the trail. The hippo pounded after them, snorting furiously.
“Hassan, you’re an experienced jungle guide,” Max said. “What do you do about a mad hippopotamus?”
“Tell him a joke!” Hassan replied.
“A joke? I don’t exactly understand how that would help.”
“How could he stay mad while he’s laughing?” Hassan replied.
“I don’t think that-”
“Max! Up ahead! There’s a river!” 99 cried.
“Saved!” Max shouted.
“But, Max! On the river! Look! Crocodiles!”
“Scratch that ‘saved,’ ” Max said gloomily.
The snorting and the pounding of the hippo was getting closer.
“Oh, Max!” 99 wailed. “A mad hippo behind us, and a river of crocodiles ahead of us! What can we do?”
“Don’t worry, 99,” Max said. “We have our trustworthy, dependable, highly-experienced jungle guide to protect us. Hassan, what are we going to do?”
“Well, as I see it,” Hassan said, “we have three choices. We can stop at the river’s edge and be eaten by the hippo. Or we can jump into the river and be eaten by the crocodiles. Or-”
“Yes?” Max said anxiously.
“Or, we can split up,” Hassan said. “You and 99 can jump into the river and be eaten by the crocodiles, and I can stop at the river’s edge and be eaten by the hippopotamus.”
“I suppose that’s better than nothing,” Max said.
“Max! Think of something!” 99 wept.
“I have it!” Max said. “Now, listen carefully. When we reach the edge of the river, we’ll stop-suddenly-and side-step the hippo. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Max,” 99 said. “That’s a wonderful plan. The hippo will charge right on past us. He’ll plunge into the river, then we can turn and run the other way.”
“Right, so far, 99,” Max said. “But there’s more to it. We want to cross that river-right? But it’s crawling with ferocious, man-eating crocodiles-right? So, how do we get across the river?”
“Take the ferry?” Hassan guessed.
“I don’t think we can count on that, Hassan. No, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll side-step the hippo, then, as he charges by us, we’ll leap on his back. He’ll plunge into the river, taking us with him. And, he’ll ferry us to the other side.”
“That’s what I said-take the ferry. See? You can always depend on your trustworthy, dependable, experienced jungle guide.”
“See, 99?” Max said. “I told you Hassan would save us.”
“Attention!” Hassan said. “We’re only a few steps from the river. Remember, now-do exactly as I told you!”
A second later, the three reached the bank of the river. As one, they braked themselves, coming to a sudden halt. Then, when the hippo reached them, they jumped onto its back. And the hippo, carried forward by its own momentum, plunged into the river. High and dry aboard the hippo, they skimmed through the water toward the opposite shore.
“Congratulations, Hassan,” Max said. “That was a crackerjack plan!”
“It was nothing,” Hassan smiled modestly. “Only magnificent.”
“Those crocodiles!” 99 shuddered. “I’m glad they can’t get at us.”
“Don’t worry, 99. Those crocodiles wouldn’t dare attack this hippo. We’re as safe here as we would be on the deck of a battleship. Hassan has thought of everything.”
“I’m efficient,” Hassan agreed.
Without warning, the three suddenly found themselves floundering around in the water. The hippo was no longer beneath them.
“Max! It submerged!” 99 cried.