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Grande amid rabbit brush and wild flowers. Taos itself proved to be a quaint old Western town nestled at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Some of the huge cottonwoods shading its dusty streets had been there since the days of Kit Carson, its most famous citizen.
    They strolled about as a group for a time. Then, Gabe leaving them, Tom drove through the bustling plaza to the Indian reservation three miles distant. Taos Pueblo, built before Columbus discovered America, rose from a plain at the foot of the smoky-blue range like a child’s brown mud castle. It was rectangular and terraced, with crude wooden ladders leading from one story to the next higher one. Black-haired Indians, garbed in blankets, sat before the turquoise and red doors of their apartments.
    "How fascinating!" Bash exclaimed.
    Ed Longstreet nodded. "It is. And yet—not so different from the traditional village lifestyle you find all over the world. Something like this must be the default state of the human race."
    After touring the settlement, Tom drove back to the town. Here an Indian shop owner directed the five visitors to the adobe studio of Benn Garth. The jeweler’s eyes lighted as Sandy showed him her mangled ring.
    "I’ve never seen a ruby quite like this before," he said, examining the stone through a jeweler’s loop. "Looks rather like the kind from Afghanistan, but this has much finer fire."
    "Do you think it came from Kabulistan?" Tom asked casually.
    Garth looked up at him. "Oddly enough, I do. I’ve seen only a few museum specimens from the Kabulistan mine—it’s lost, you know—but this certainly resembles them in color. I’m not a mineralogist, but I’m told these rubies have some unusual structural features."
    At that moment Bashalli gasped and pointed toward the window. As the others turned, they saw a dark-featured man in an Oriental turban suddenly duck out of sight!
     
CHAPTER 5
A LASSOED SNOOPER
    BUD whirled into action and darted out the front door of the studio. He collided head-on with the man in the turban!
    The jolt left Bud speechless for a moment as the man stared at him with wounded dignity. Recovering, Bud gripped the man’s arm and demanded, "Why were you spying on us?"
    "I beg your pardon, but I was not." The dark-featured man shook off Bud’s arm contemptuously. "I was merely passing the window on my way to enter the studio and happened to glance in. Now will you please allow me to get by?"
    "Okay." Bud stood aside and stared at him in baffled surprise. The stranger adjusted his white, gold-threaded turban, then walked in.
    "My name is Mirza," he said to the entire shop. "Is Mr. Tom Swift here?"
    Everyone looked at him in surprise. Tom spoke up. "I’m Tom Swift."
    The man bowed and made a gesture of salaam . "I am the secretary to Mr. Nurhan Flambo, the head of Pan-Islamic Engineering Associates. Mr. Flambo is now at your atomic research station and urgently wishes to confer with you."
    Mr. Flambo, the secretary explained, had flown from the Middle East via New York for the sole purpose of seeing Tom Swift. After landing in New Mexico he had taken a car directly from the airport to the Citadel. There, Mr. Flambo had learned of Tom Swift’s trip to Taos and had sent Mirza to summon him back at once.
    "And how did your Mr. Flambo learn that our Mr. Swift was here in New Mexico?" asked Bashalli with a withering look.
    Bud frowned. "From a guy named Gabe Knorff, maybe?"
    "I do not know that gentleman," was the stiff reply. "From Manhattan Mr. Flambo spoke directly to Mr. Damon Swift in Shopton, by telephone. Knowing of Mr. Flambo’s international reputation, Mr. Swift was more than cooperative."
    "Why didn’t he bring his ‘international reputation’ to Taos himself?" Bud demanded. Mirza merely shrugged.
    Tom, too, was somewhat irritated by the highhanded demand. Evidently this Mr. Flambo was accustomed to having people jump when he issued orders. On the other hand, if he had flown all the way from