"Dixon, Franklin W - Hardy Boys 043 - The Mystery Of The Aztec Warrior" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dixon Franklin W)

Chet dropped to the ground, exhausted. "I just knew I was letting myself in for something," he panted. "It would have been much easier walking round Mexico City in my Aztec costume."

Frank and Joe did not answer. They were pretty winded themselves. Finally Joe remarked, "Those old Aztecs sure had lung power."

Frank suggested that perhaps the stranger they sought had gone to another pyramid. The boys went to their car and drove first to the Pyramid of the Moon. The man was not there, so they set off for the Temple of Quetzalcoad.

They went completely round the pyramid, scanning the steps and the ground for a glimpse of the elusive man.

Frank frowned. "That probably was Seсor Tatloc. Since he's such a retiring person he would have hurried away when he saw us."

"That's just great," said Chet. "If he takes off every time we spot him, how are we ever going to talk to him?" The stout boy sighed. "Oh, well, maybe the guy we saw wasn't Tatloc, anyway."

The boys spent the next hour examining the weird carvings on the temple. There were huge heads of serpents with open jaws and wicked-looking teeth. Interspersed among the stone reptiles were heads which they guessed represented the god Quetzalcoatl.

"He has on a flat top hat," said Chet with a grin, and added, "That must have been the style during the period he was a human-not so fancy as the ones the Aztecs wore later."

The three visitors marvelled at the number of carvings which stretched not only along the base of the pyramid but in rows up the sides.

"Do you suppose," said Frank, "that Mr Moore's slides indicate we'll find a clue here to the Aztec warrior object? This is certainly the place where he took one picture."

Joe surveyed the huge temple. "If you mean some letter or document is hidden in one of these carvings, it would take us at least a month to search for them."

The Hardys decided that they could always come back to the Temple of Quetzalcoad. In the meantime, they would search at various other ruins to find Seсor Tatloc.

The boys drove away. As they neared the outskirts of Mexico City, Chet proposed that they eat at a real Mexican restaurant. He directed the way to a long narrow building. Frank found a parking place some distance down the street.

The restaurant had booths for four on each side of a wide aisle. A man in a black velvet, gold-embroidered, tight-fitting suit and a large black hat which he wore at a rakish angle was playing a guitar at the rear of the restaurant. Couples were dancing in the aisles.

The three boys were shown to a booth. After looking over the menu they ordered bean soup, roast chicken without the chocolate pepper sauce, and totopos-an American-type frito served with a sauce made of mashed avocado, boiled tomato, olive oil, onion, salt and lemon.

"Mm, this hits me just right," said Chet, after sampling all the dishes.

At that moment the music stopped. The hungry boys ate rather than talked and could plainly hear the chatter around them. Suddenly the Hardys detected a voice behind them asking the waiter in Spanish to find out the boys' destination. It occurred to the Hardys that the man might belong to the kidnapping gang!

Frank, who had the aisle seat, leaned out and looked round. Four men occupied the booth. One, young with an evil-looking face, was handing the waiter a tip. Instantly Frank drew back and put a finger to his lips as a sign for Joe and Chet to let him, do the talking.

When the waiter reached the boys' booth, he asked Frank in Spanish where the boys were going.

"I don't understand," Frank said vaguely.

By signs and gestures the waiter tried his best to get the message across. At last he shrugged, gave up, and went back to the other booth. He reported that the boys did not speak Spanish.

The three friends grinned and tried to hear the conversation of the inquirer and his friends. But the men had dropped their voices to whispers.

In turn Frank lowered his, saying, "Maybe these men aren't part of the gang, but just plain thugs out to rob us. If they follow us from the restaurant, we can be sure they're up to no good."

"What'll we do?" Chet quavered.

"How about giving them the old football rush?" Joe suggested.