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

He pointed to a colourful illustration of a warrior in head-dress and shirt of yellow parrot feathers and sprays of costly quetzal feathers, all decorated with gold. Another picture showed a whole squadron wearing uniforms made of jaguar skins and carrying shields adorned with golden discs, butterflies and serpents; on their feet were embroidered sandals with thongs of orange leather.

The Hardys looked up as they heard a car roar up in front of the house and stop.

He grinned. "I'll bet that's Chet!"

Joe peered from the window. "You're right."

Coming up the path was a stout, good-natured looking boy, a schoolmate of the Hardys. Chet Morton was a particular friend and often unwittingly found himself involved in the mysteries the brothers were solving.

"Hi, fellows!" he said, as Joe opened the door and he walked in. "Why so glum?" he asked. "Something happen?"

"Oh, nothing much, except that we rescued an unconscious man, and we're searching for an Aztec warrior," Frank said nonchalantly.

Chet's eyes bulged. "You what!"

Quickly Frank and Joe told their friend the story of the Moore mystery. "Sounds crazy," Chet remarked. "But the part about Mexico interests me. I've read some of that history myself. Say, do you know what those old Aztecs used to eat?"

"No."

"They cooked with flowers," was Chet's surprising answer. "The acacia flower was supposed to cure melancholia. They sprinkled the flowers into an egg batter, fried it and covered it with sugar and cinnamon." Chet smacked his lips. "I've always meant to try it."

"You suffer from melancholia?" Frank teased.

"Did they use any other kinds of flowers?" Joe asked.

"Sure. They made pie fillings with roses-boiled them up with sugar and lemon, and they made a drink out of the red blossoms from the Jamaica tree. You've heard of eating squash blossoms, haven't you? The Aztecs munched them during ceremonies to their raingod."

Joe grinned. "I'm sure Aunt Gertrude would love to make some geranium soup!"

Chet laughed. "I just stopped by to ask you fellows if you'd be interested in going to a movie. But now I suppose you'll have to stick around to solve this mystery."

"I'm afraid we will," Frank said. "But we'll be in touch!"

"Well, lots of luck to you," said Chet as he left the house. Frank and Joe watched him roar off down the street in his open jalopy. Then suddenly both brothers wanted to be on the move themselves.

"How about driving out to the Moore house tonight?" Joe proposed. "No restrictions on looking over the grounds."

"Sure thing."

After supper the boys took torches and set off in their car, with Frank at the wheel. When they reached the entrance to the Moore property, he stopped.

"Let's leave the car here," he suggested.

The boys hopped out and started up the drive. It was still dusk, so there was no need for their torches. As they reached the left side of the house, the brothers were surprised to see a plump, white-haired woman standing there, gazing upwards.

Hearing them, she turned. For a moment she looked hard at the boys, then smiled. "Good evenin'," she said. "You startled me. I thought maybe you were burglars. But you're nice-lookin' lads. My name is Mary O'Brien. I used to work by the day for the dear old gentleman who lived here."

"You mean Mr Moore?" Frank asked her.