“This part looks pretty old,” Chet acknowledged.
Suddenly a taxi passed the one in which the boys were riding. A man’s hand protruded from it. He was waving a white handkerchief frantically as if to attract their attention.
“Is that a signal to us?” Frank asked excitedly.
CHAPTER VI
Unwanted Passenger
“DRIVER, pull up alongside that taxi,” Frank cried, pointing ahead.
The taximan put on a burst of speed, while the Hardys strained their eyes to see who was inside the other taxi.
They were barely able to catch a glimpse of its passengers, but Frank whispered, “That man with the handkerchief is Jack Wayne! The other man looks Mexican.”
Suddenly their own taxi stopped. Quickly Frank and Joe turned to see why. To their amazement a stranger, with flashing black eyes and swarthy skin, and holding some kind of badge in his hand, was climbing in beside their driver.
“You’re under arrest!” he told the taximan.
“What! I have done nothing!” the frightened driver said.
Frank and Joe looked at each other and at Chet, who gulped nervously. Did this have something to do with them? Was this a ruse to capture them as well as Wayne? Frank whispered to the others, “We’d better get out of here—and fast!”
Joe nodded, grabbed his suitcase, and opened the door. The next moment he and Chet, swinging his bag, were on the street. Frank threw a bill to the taxi driver and hopped out with his luggage. The stranger ordered the taximan to hurry on.
Instantly horns began to toot at the boys, and cars swerved to avoid hitting them. Chet and the Hardys realized they were raising a traffic commotion. It was impossible for them to reach the sidewalk.
“I wanted to follow that other taxi,” said Frank, as a car nearly sideswiped him.
“N-not me,” quavered Chet. “We might be in jail by now!”
“We’ll never be able to catch up with it now,” said Joe as the brakes of a taxi near him screeched.
Finally the boys held up their hands and the motorists realized the trio’s predicament. One car after another came to a grinding halt to let the visitors run to the sidewalk.
Chet, speechless with relief, sat down on his suitcase and wiped the perspiration from his face. “Don’t ever do that to me again!” he pleaded. “I lost five years off my life.”
“Too bad it wasn’t ten pounds,” said Joe. “We took our lives in our hands—and all for nothing!”
Frank said it was his fault and asked if either of the boys had obtained the license number of the taxi carrying Jack Wayne. Neither of them had.
“I was too busy watching traffic,” Joe confessed. “I did notice one thing, though. The taxi was yellow.”
“And needed paint,” Chet added.
“I saw a triangular dent in the right-hand back door,” Frank said. “Well, that’s pretty good identification. I think we should track down that taxi and quiz the driver.”
“Not me!” Chet said firmly. “Do you realize all that has happened to us in the short time we’ve been in this city? I think you fellows imagined that was Jack Wayne. He would have called out to us. I vote we go to our hotel. Me for a bath and a nap.”
Frank had spotted an empty taxi and hailed it. The boys climbed in with their luggage, and the driver was directed to their hotel. The room assigned to them was large and had three beds in it. Chet gave a flying leap and sprawled onto one of them.
“Boy, does this feel good!” He closed his eyes, and a minute later it was evident from his deep breathing that the stout boy was asleep.
“First casualty,” Frank said with a grin. “I guess we’ll have to carry on alone for a while.” He became serious. “It seems to me that Jack Wayne must still be a prisoner and was waving a distress signal.”
“Do you suppose it was just a coincidence that he saw us?” Joe asked.
“I doubt it,” Frank replied. “But I’m fairly sure that we weren’t supposed to see him. His taxi was following us and because of the flow of traffic was forced to pass us. I’ll bet the man who jumped into our taxi to arrest the driver was a phony and an accomplice of the abductors. Maybe it was an attempt to capture us.”
“Good logic, but we still haven’t a clue to who our enemies are,” said Joe. “One thing seems certain. That Aztec warrior object must be mighty valuable.”
Frank looked at Chet, then said, “Joe, while he’s asleep, how about you and me going to police headquarters and reporting everything?”
“We certainly need all the help we can get,” said Joe. “Let’s go!”
Frank wrote a note to Chet, then the boys went downstairs and asked the way to the policia. It was not far, so the brothers decided to walk. When Chief Diaz heard their story he told them that the taxi driver had reported the incident of the attempted arrest. The phony officer had jumped out of the taxi at the next traffic light.
Gravely the chief said, “I had a report from the States about your friend Jack Wayne, but we have no leads to him. He did not land at our airport. Now you say he probably is in our city. I will use every method to find this man.”
“We’d appreciate that,” Frank said. “Perhaps you can also help us find two other men we are looking for—Señor Tatloc, the archaeologist, and a Roberto Hermosa.” The chief promised he would help them in any way he could.
The boys thanked him and left. As they retraced their steps to the hotel, Joe said, “Why don’t we hire a taxi and cruise around to see if we can find the one which was carrying Jack?”
Frank waved down an oncoming taxi. After the boys had jumped in, he described to the driver in Spanish the kind of car for which they were searching.
The man looked inquisitive. He said politely, “It is not for a driver like me, Gomez, to be curious about my passengers’ wishes, but may I know why the two young gentlemen wish to locate this vehicle?”
Joe smiled. “Would you believe me if I told you we’re after a kidnapper?”
The Mexican’s black eyes blinked several times. “I do not wish to have any trouble with a kidnapper,” he said, “but I will ride around the streets so you can find the car you seek.”
He went up one street and down another, through alleyways and back onto the famous Paseo de la Reforma. There had been no sign of the yellow taxicab with a dent in a back door.
Gomez looked at his meter. “This ride will be very expensive for you,” he said.
“Give us another ten minutes please,” Frank replied, glancing at his watch. “That’ll make it an even hour.”
The time was just about up when suddenly Joe cried out, “I see it! Gomez, stop!”
Their driver pulled to the curb directly behind the yellow taxi. The boys asked Gomez to wait for them, then ran up to talk to the other driver.
“Excuse me,” said Frank, “but we’re trying to find a friend of ours—an American—and a Mexican companion. They were riding in your taxi a little over an hour ago. Do you know where they went?”
“Sí, sí,” the taximan replied. “I dropped them at the Lagunilla Market.”
“Lagunilla Market?” Frank repeated. “What’s that?”
The driver laughed. “It is a place where people go to find bargains. Most of the merchandise is old and poor. Once in a while, however, something fine turns up. The merchants there have bought most of their things from strangers, and occasionally it is stolen property.”
“Let’s have this man take us to the Lagunilla Market,” Frank suggested. “I’ll pay Gomez.”
The boys changed taxis and were taken to an old, shabby-looking section of town. The open-air market ran from one street to another. Many of the vendors had their merchandise spread out on straw mats or blankets on the ground. A few had small booths with canopies set up. They were loudly hawking their wares in both Spanish and English.
The Hardys soon found that the merchants were suspicious and the boys had to buy trinkets in order to get responses to their questions.
�
�We may go bankrupt before we get a clue,” said Joe with a grin.
They had gone nearly the full length of the market when they came to a woman merchant selling silver jewelry. Frank put his question to her, and instead of being ignored, it was answered at once.
“I remember the men you speak of,” she said with a smile, straightening the many-colored apron she wore. “The man from your country bought a handsome bracelet from me—a man’s bracelet. It was studded with turquoise—a great bargain.”
The young sleuths were grateful for the information. To show their appreciation they bought two bracelets that looked old enough to have been worn by Aztec women. Their mother and Aunt Gertrude, they decided, would be pleased to receive them as souvenir gifts.
Suddenly the Mexican woman’s face clouded. “The American was a very nice man, but I did not like his companion. He had a wicked face and I saw him buy a large knife.”
The Hardys were startled and asked for further identification. She said he was short and rather stout. The brothers again thanked the woman. Feeling that they now had a clue for the police, they started back to their taxi.
Suddenly the woman called out, “When you find your friend, I hope you will not laugh at him. He put the bracelet on his arm and said he was going to wear it all the time.”
The Hardys figured that Jack was using the bracelet as identification in case the Hardys should pick up his trail.
“Did you notice which way the men went from here?” Joe asked.
“No. I’m sorry.”
The taximan drove them to headquarters where they dismissed him. Chief Diaz was surprised to see his visitors so soon again and commended them on their sleuthing ability.
“That turquoise bracelet is a fine clue,” he said.
The boys returned to their hotel. To their surprise Chet was not in the room, but propped against the mirror of the bureau was a note:
“Mystery solved. Have gone to get the Aztec warrior. Will bring him to our room.”
CHAPTER VII
Mexican Disguise
“IF Chet Morton can prove to me that he has found the Aztec warrior,” said Joe, pacing the floor of his hotel room, “I’ll give him a big fat five-dollar bill!”
Frank was staring out the window. “It would be worth a lot more. I just can’t believe it!”
The brothers speculated excitedly about their pal’s discovery. They did not dare leave the room for fear Chet might return, and they most certainly wanted to be on hand if the mystery had been solved!
Nearly an hour went by when a soft tap came on the door. Both brothers ran to open it. As they swung the door wide, Frank and Joe stared in disbelief.
Standing before them was a plump figure in full Aztec warrior garb—feathered helmet, a long, elaborately embroidered tunic, and sandals!
The figure strode into the room. As the light from the window fell on him, Frank and Joe’s amazement turned to hilarity. They burst into guffaws of laughter, spun in half circles, and dropped onto the bed.
“Chet Morton, you loon!” Frank exclaimed. “Where did you get that outfit?”
“I guess we deserve having a joke played on us.” Joe chuckled.
Chet Morton did not even smile. He stood looking at his chums with a hurt expression on his face. “This isn’t funny,” he said. “I figured the best way to get a lead on the living Aztec warrior was to wear this costume in the street and attract attention. Everybody will be asking questions and then we can ask some in return.”
“You’re likely to be taken to the funny farm,” said Joe.
Slowly Chet removed the helmet. As he laid it on the bureau, he said, “I guess you fellows don’t like my idea, and I thought it was such a good one. You don’t know what a hard time I had finding a costume store that was open and carried this getup. And I paid a whole week’s rental on it!” he added woefully.
“That’s too bad,” said Frank, grinning. “Maybe you ought to buy the costume and take it home. It sure would make a hit in Bayport.”
“Okay. I will.”
The stout boy was saved from further needling by the ringing of the telephone. Frank answered and learned that the call was from police headquarters. “Can you come right down?” Chief Diaz asked. “Your friend Jack Wayne is here.”
“Really!” Frank exclaimed. “That’s great. We’ll be there pronto.”
When he reported the news to the other boys, they were astounded. Joe remarked, “Mighty efficient police force, I’d say!”
The Hardys helped Chet out of his costume, then the trio raced downstairs to the hotel entrance. Frank flagged a taxi and soon they were hurrying into police headquarters.
“Jack!” the Hardys cried out joyfully upon seeing the pilot.
There were hearty handshakes, then Frank and Joe asked for the full story of the kidnapping and release.
Their lean, tanned friend looked haggard but produced a broad grin. Pointing to the silver-and-turquoise bracelet on his arm, he said, “This did it. If you fellows hadn’t uncovered the clue, I might still be the prisoner of those lowdown weasels! The police quizzed people who saw me wearing it and trailed me to the house where I was tied up.
“Nobody else was there and those crooks haven’t been captured yet. The only one whose face I ever saw was the man who climbed into your father’s plane at the Bayport airfield, poked a gun into my ribs, and ordered me to take off. I didn’t have any choice, but I was sure you Hardys would trail us.”
As Jack Wayne paused, Frank said, “It’s a lucky thing we saw your handkerchief signal this morning.”
“Yes. My abductors threatened to harm me if I tried to escape, so I used that method to warn you that you were being followed.”
While the chief took a phone call, the pilot added in a whisper, “The gang is after the Aztec warrior object, and my kidnapper tried to find out from me where it is. He said it’s worth a fortune.”
When the chief finished his call, Jack went on, “The kidnapper—I never did learn his name—directed me to land on a field at an abandoned farm outside this city. A group of masked men met us and put me in a car. Then we came into the city, and I was forced into a house. There I was made to answer a lot of questions about you Hardys. I probably shouldn’t have bragged that I knew you would come after me.
“Then, the hijacker took me out to a taxi, and we drove to the big airport to watch you come in. We kept you in sight to find out where you were going. Suddenly the traffic forced us to pass your taxi. I decided to try that handkerchief signal to alert you.”
“It did,” said Joe. “And that man with a badge who jumped into our taxi—we thought at first he was a detective—probably intended to kidnap us too.”
“I know about him,” said Jack. “He’s one of the gang. He was in another taxi. As soon as he saw my warning signal to you, he got out of his taxi and stopped your driver. I was looking back and sure was glad when I saw you fellows hop out.”
“Why were you taken to the Lagunilla Market?” Joe asked.
“So you wouldn’t be able to pick up our trail and find out where I was being held,” the pilot replied. “The men thought you’d probably quiz our driver, so we changed taxis at the Lagunilla Market. While we were there, the kidnapper purchased one of the wickedest-looking knives I’ve ever seen.
“I managed to persuade him to let me buy the bracelet. I wore it, hoping you fellows could trace me.” Jack gave a broad grin. “And you did, thank goodness!”
Chet, who had been silent up to this time, reminded the pilot that he had said he knew only his kidnapper. “Would you recognize the man who got in our taxi if you saw him again?”
“I couldn’t see his face,” said Jack. “By the way, the hijacker told me he had tried to break into Mr. Moore’s home, but that you’d stopped him.”
“We didn’t get a very good look at him,” said Frank. “He’s short and dark. What else can you tell us about him?”
“The outstanding thing about him is that his teeth are q
uite crooked and overlapping.”
The Hardys and Chet further learned that a man referred to as Jimenez seemed to be the leader of the group.
Chief Diaz spoke up. “He and his friends may be hard to capture. I feel sure none of them will return to the house where we found you, Señor Wayne. The gang probably had a lookout, and when we tracked you down, he no doubt warned those scoundrels and they got away in a hurry.”
The officer promised that his department would continue their search. In the meantime, if the pilot was ready, they would drive him to his plane, which the police had learned was still where it had been landed. “I understand you wish to get back to Bayport as soon as possible.”
“That’s right,” Jack replied.
While the chief was making arrangements, the pilot whispered to the boys, “I’m sorry I couldn’t find out more about the Aztec warrior—both the thing and the man.”
Frank spoke up, “Jack, you’ve done a great job and given us some important clues. It’s too bad you had to be kidnapped in the process, but it sure is paying off.”
After Jack had left in the police car, the boys talked over what their next move should be. They decided to go at once to the University of Mexico and try to talk to someone connected with the archaeological department about Senor Tatloc. Since the buildings were some distance out of town, they took a taxi.
Along the way were beautiful new homes, most of them a delicate shade of pink concrete. All were set among rolling lawns and gardens of profuse, bright-colored flowers.
As the taxi drew near the university buildings, Chet leaned out the window and gaped in amazement. “Boy, look at that!” he exclaimed, gazing at the beautiful, intricate mosaic work which formed the walls of the huge library.
One side showed a gigantic figure—half of it representing the Indian background of Mexico, the other its Spanish influence.
At the administration building Frank asked the driver to stop while he went inside to inquire if he could see a staff member of the archaeological department. He was given directions to the nearby home of Professor Rincon. The boys found it and requested the taxi driver to wait for them.
The Mystery of the Aztec Warrior Page 4