Chapter One

A Letter for Stanley

George Lambchop was sitting at the kitchen table, going through the mail as his wife cooked breakfast. "Look at these beauties, Harriet!" he called, holding up a letter with many exotic stamps in the corner. "From Egypt!"

Ever since their eldest son, Stanley, had been flattened by a bulletin board and could now travel by mail, the Lambchop family had become keenly interested in stamps.

"In a minute, dear," Mrs. Lambchop said. "I'm just at the difficult part of flipping this French toast. A letter from Egypt, you say! Why don't you open it and read it to me."

Mr. Lambchop began to do just that, but then he caught himself. "That was a close one!" he cried. "It's a federal offense to open mail that's addressed to someone else. This letter is for Stanley!"

Just then, both Lambchop boys appeared in the doorway, drawn by the delicious aroma of French toast and bacon.

"Stanley, son, letter for you here. Looks important."

"What about me?" Stanley's younger brother, Arthur, asked. "Any mail for me today?"

"Not today, sorry," Mr. Lambchop replied. "But, Stanley, why don't you open yours and read it to us over breakfast."

"After breakfast," Mrs. Lambchop said firmly. "And hand washing. You know how maple syrup gets all over everything."

The boys finished their breakfast and washed up. Then Stanley opened his letter. /"If you are the world-famous flattened boy of America," he read out loud, "and if you are less than three inches thick, you must come to Egypt at once. We are beginning an archaeological project and are in urgent need of someone of your dimensions."

"I don't know about world-famous," Arthur grumbled—a bit enviously, it must be said. "Maybe they've got the wrong person."

"But I am only half an inch thick." Stanley sighed. "So that's me, all right."

"I," Mrs. Lambchop corrected her son. "That is I."

"It's signed Sir Abu Shenti Hawara the fourth," Stanley said, "and look: He's taken care of my travel arrangements." Stanley held up a very large envelope covered with stamps.

George Lambchop took the letter and read it over. "No mention of Stanley's family going with him," he said, frowning. "I don't know . . ."

"Well, an archaeological project . . . it's not as if it's something dangerous. And travel is broadening, George . . . ," Mrs. Lambchop mused. "Oh, Stanley, darling . . . I didn't mean it that way! What I meant was, it rounds out one's education . . . oh my, that didn't come out quite right either!"

"Well, your mother and I have always encouraged you boys to lend a helping hand when needed," Mr. Lambchop said. "I suppose that goes even if it's needed halfway around the world."

"We'd better take you to the post office at once, Stanley," Mrs. Lambchop said. "I will pack the leftover French toast and bacon for you to eat on the way. No maple syrup, of course. It wouldn't do to arrive all sticky!"

"Something to drink?" Stanley asked.

"I think not, dear," his mother told him. "Egypt is quite a distance, and I'm afraid you won't be near a bathroom for some time. Which reminds me . . ." And she went off to pack a toothbrush and washcloth for her son's trip.

Stanley noticed that Arthur seemed glum. He knew Arthur sometimes found it difficult being the only round brother in a family. "Would you like me to bring back something from Egypt for you?" he asked.

"Hmmmph," Arthur replied. "If you're going to Egypt, you should bring me back a mummy."

"I don't believe they offer those as souvenirs. And besides, it wouldn't fit in the envelope with Stanley!" chuckled the boys' father. Mr. Lambchop was known for his sharp sense of humor. "How about a nice postcard?" Mr. Lambchop was known for being a practical thinker, too.

Arthur folded his hands across his chest. "A mummy or nothing."

Stanley was very sorry to see his brother looking so grumpy as he slid himself into the envelope.

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Excerpted from The Great Egyptian Grave Robbery by Sara Pennypacker, Jeff Brown
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.