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

"How could we be so stupid?" Joe said glumly. "I suppose we'll have to go back to town and-"

He stopped speaking as they noticed two figures hurrying from a doorway in one of the ancient stone buildings.

Instinctively, the Hardys followed. But the men were some distance ahead and apparently more familiar with the place than the brothers because they turned a corner of the temple and disappeared.

Frank and Joe doubled their speed but were unable to catch a glimpse of the fleeing figures. A few minutes later they heard the roar of a car engine and were sure that the men had left the area.

"One thing is certain," aaid Joe. "They didn't have Chet with them."

Frank nodded. "Which leads me to believe that they may have left him in that building they came out of."

The brothers started back running. When they reached the doorway, they beamed their lights inside. It revealed nothing but an empty room.

"Maybe Chet's tied up nearby," Joe suggested. "Let's call him."

He shouted into the building, then out of doors. There was no reply.

"We've heard only one car leave," said Frank. "If some of the gang took Chet with them, they carried him off before those two men fled. And if they did, we certainly aren't going to find him here."

Nevertheless, Joe continued to call his friend's name. Finally he stopped and the two boys stood still, trying to decide on their next move.

Frank suddenly shifted his weight. "I heard something!" he whispered.

The brothers listened intently. A sound like a muffled groan came to their ears.

"It must be inside this building," Frank insisted.

The brothers inspected the walls of the room. At one point there was a chest-high narrow opening, almost filled with several large loose stones. They were apparently part of an ancient doorway. Through it, the Hardys could hear the groaning more plainly. Working frantically, they began tearing down the blockade.

The Hardys squirmed through the opening, and Frank swung his torch round a small inner room. On the floor lay Chet Morton, semi-conscious!

Frank and Joe leaped to examine their stout friend. Evidently he had been struck on the head, but otherwise he appeared to be uninjured.

"I wish I knew where there was some water," said Frank. "It might help to revive him."

The sound of Frank's voice seemed to have a stimulating effect on Chet. He blinked his eyes open and looked uncertainly about him.

"Chet!" Frank and Joe cried out together, and Frank added, "Thank goodness you're all right!"

Chet was too groggy to talk. But being used to rough treatment in football games, he tried to sit up.

"We'll take you outside into the fresh air," said Frank.

He and Joe carefully raised Chet to a standing position. Then, supporting him under his arms, they helped him outside. He took several deep breaths of air and seemed to be somewhat refreshed.

"Did somebody hit you?" Frank asked.

"I-I guess so," Chet answered weakly. As his head cleared, he said, "I'm glad you fellows are all right. Boy, when I saw those two guys with the clubs about to hit you on the noggin, I nearly passed out. You heard me yell, didn't you?"