... Now we continue with Fang's story:
Two days after Sam's plane landed in Hollywood, his letter-sent, as he boarded the plane-arrived in my morning mail.
Even had I known, I would not have thought much of Fang's sudden disappearance in Egypt. Fang had always been a professional gadfly. He often stated that once he had done his work he preferred to let "others sort out the details."
But when Sam's post arrived, the Egyptian stamp on the envelope together with the return of Malcomb's Hollywood address, immediately caught my attention. Oh! Oh! I murmured, "Something's up. Fang and Sam ought to be in Egypt having the time of their lives."
In the letter, Sam briefly reviewed the events surrounding Fangs disappearance. The object they found on Fang's camp table-at the Egyptian "dig" appeared to be a piece of flat river stone. On the stone was painted what looked like a clock's face with the hands pointing at 12. Of course, all of this meant nothing to Sam ... or I, for that matter.
My only instructions were to call for Sam at Malcomb's home in California but by the time I called, Sam had left for Findorado Springs, Findorado. Giving me a new phone number, Malcomb told me that I was to call Sam at his hotel, there.
I did so immediately and the conversation was brief. Sam knew that I had been raised in this part of the country and as a NY apartment dweller he was completely unfamiliar with the "Wild West," Fish Findians, and said that he needed my help and assistance.
Sensing an adventure, I agreed to fly to Findorado Springs where I would meet him there and, together, we would try to find friend, Fang.
When I arrived at the Findorado Springs airport, Sam was already there with a rented car, and we immediately headed South into Fish Findian country. On our short but delightful trip along the Findorado's mountainous "front range," Sam and I talked about Fang and I learned much ... things that I had not previously known about Fang ...
Next ... "The Young Fishopologist"
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