Clarence Young, The Motor Boys in Mexico; Or, The Secret of the Buried City
“ There came a loud pounding at the door.“Who’s there?” asked Jerry.“’Tis I, the landlord,” was the answer. “What is it? Have the brigands come? Is the place on fire? Why did the señor yell, as if some one had stuck a knife into him?”“It was only me,” called Bob. “The professor caught a new kind of fly on my nose.”“A fly! On your nose! Diablo! Those Americanos! They are crazy!” the innkeeper muttered as he went away.“Well, we’re up; I suppose we may as well stay up,” said Ned, stretching and yawning. ”
