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Arthur’s age.
    “Here he is,” said Stanley matter-of-factly.
    “Arthur Lambchop,” scolded Mr. Lambchop, “how dare you wander off in a strange country!”

    “But this boy can help us,” said Arthur. “His name is Odinga.”
    Odinga smiled brightly at Stanley.
    “Hello,” said Stanley and Mr. Lambchop.
    Odinga said nothing.
    “He doesn’t speak English,” explained Arthur.
    “Arthur,” said Mr. Lambchop, “what have I told you about going off with strangers?”
    “But I know we can trust Odinga,” said Arthur.
    “How?” Mr. Lambchop crossed his arms.
    Arthur pointed to Odinga’s T-shirt. The picture on it was very faded, and Stanley had to lean closer to see. He was surprised to find a picture of himself in a ninja outfit flying through the air with his leg thrust outward. It had been taken when he was in Japan, and briefly associated with the movie business.
    Odinga gave Stanley two very enthusiastic thumbs-up.
    Stanley felt his cheeks turn red. It must be the Kenyan heat.
    “Show him the newspaper, Dad,” prodded Arthur.
    Mr. Lambchop reached into his pocket and unfolded the article he had clipped two days before. He held it out to Odinga, pointing to the map with the X on it, which marked the place where the flat skull had been discovered.
    Odinga looked at the piece of paper, turned on his heel, and walked away.
    Mr. Lambchop raised his eyebrows at Arthur as if to say, “I told you so.” Then Odinga reappeared and grabbed Arthur’s arm. He wanted the Lambchops to follow him.
    Walking quickly, Odinga led them through the crowd to an old minivan waiting by the curb. It was already full of people. Standing beside it was a girl who looked not much older than Stanley. Odinga went up to her and said something in Swahili. She approached the Lambchops.
    “I am Bisa,” she said in heavily accented English. “My brother tells me you need to go to Tanzania.”
    Once again, Mr. Lambchop held out the newspaper clipping.
    “Why do you want to go there?” Bisa asked. “It is very far.”
    Stanley stepped forward. He turned sideways to show how flat he was. Then he turned to face her again. “I’m looking for answers,” he said simply.

    Bisa said, “What if you do not like the answers you find?”
    Stanley could only shrug.
    “I understand,” she said quietly. “Come,” she declared with sudden excitement. “My father will help you. He is a good pilot.”
    As the minibus bounced through the streets of Nairobi, Stanley’s entire face was pressed against the window. This was because so many people were squeezed into the minibus with him. Apart from Arthur, Mr. Lambchop, Odinga, and Bisa, passengers were constantly jumping on and off.
    Nairobi was a big city. Bisa said that three million people lived there. Everywhere, the streets were teeming with traffic. They passed open-air markets filled with fruits and vegetables of every color. People were cooking on the side of the road. Skyscrapers towered over the city.
    “Look, Arthur!” Stanley said, elbowing his brother as they passed a man with a giant bird on his shoulder.
    Arthur squeezed his face beside Stanley’s.
    Finally, Bisa and Odinga jumped out of the open door of the minivan, and the Lambchops rushed to follow. Bisa waved for them to hurry up as she climbed the steps of a building.
    Mr. Lambchop grabbed Stanley and Arthur’s arms suddenly. He pointed to a sign next to the door: NAIROBI POLICE DEPARTMENT .
    “It’s a setup!” Mr. Lambchop gulped.
    Stanley and Arthur looked at each other.
    “What is wrong?” Bisa asked.
    “I demand to see my attorney,” blurted Mr. Lambchop.
    Bisa looked confused. Then she burst into laughter. “Nobody is going to arrest you, Mr. Lambchop,” she said. “You misunderstand. My father is a pilot for the police force!”

Chapter 3
Emergency!
    “See that mountain over there?” Bisa’s father, Captain Tony, was yelling in order to make himself heard over the roar of the tiny airplane’s