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

They were just in time. The maddened bull pulled up short, eyed the boys malevolently, then continued on down the alley.
"Boy, I never want to go through that again!" said Chet, dropping to the ground and panting.

The Hardys heaved sighs of relief. Frank said, "I wonder where the bull is now."

"Let's go and find out," Joe proposed.

He opened the gate and looked cautiously down the narrow street. The bull was not in sight, but the boys could hear cries of excitement. Quickly they ran in the direction of the shouts. On the way they saw a young Mexican rush from a house. He was carrying a red cloak and a sword.

"He must be a matador!" Joe guessed.

Excitedly the boys hurried after him. The way led to the zуcalo, where people were running helter-skelter to get away from the animal. Suddenly the angry bull halted, swinging its head from side to side, its horns lowered.

One of the fleeing bystanders spotted the young matador and shouted, "Roberto! Roberto." Others in the crowd called out to him.

Without hesitation, the matador sheathed his sword with the red cloak and walked slowly towards the bull. As it charged towards him, he adroitly swung the cloak and sidestepped the animal. The bull trotted off a short distance, then turned back.

Once more, Roberto walked towards it with short, steady steps. The animal stood still and glared. Suddenly it lowered its horns again and made a lunge for the matador. Several women screamed, fearful that the man would be gored!

Roberto gracefully swung his cloak and pivoted to one side. The bull's horns hit the earth and it gave a loud bellow.

"Olй Olй!" the crowd shouted in praise of the matador's expert move.

As the frustrated beast came towards him, Roberto suddenly pulled out his sword. Frank, Joe and Chet experienced a sickening sensation-evidently the bull was now to be dispatched. As the crowd watched tensely, a shout came from the edge of the zуcalo. A man appeared, crying out, "Do not kill the bull!"

He carried a lariat in his hands. The next moment it snaked out neatly. The immense loop at one end settled down over the bull and was quickly jerked tight. The animal dropped helplessly to the ground, writhing and snorting.

"Pretty clever!" said Frank.

The beast was pulled to the edge of the zуcalo, where a truck was parked. The tailboard was down, and quickly the animal was pulled aboard. Then the tailboard was fastened and the lasso removed from the bull's legs.

Frank, Joe and Chet exchanged pleased grins that no harm had come to the animal.

Chet remarked, "We sure had a front-row seat to a bullfight that time!"

The man with the lasso explained to the curious crowd that he was driving the animal to a farm outside the town. When the Mexican had stopped for a traffic light, the tailboard had become unfastened and fallen down. The bull had immediately escaped.

"I would have put a ring in its nose and tied it to the side of the truck," the man said ruefully, "but I was hoping to enter it in a bullfight and did not want to mar it."

As the bull's owner drove off, Frank nudged his companions. "Let's go and talk to that matador, Roberto, and find out his last name."

The boys pushed their way through the crowd to the centre of the zуcalo where the young matador was receiving congratulations from bystanders.

"Great performance," said Frank, smiling. "By the way, what is your last name?"

The young Mexican grinned. "My full name is Roberto Hermosa Alberto Sanchez."

"What!" Chet's eyes bulged.