America 1881: Legend of the West

Sean spent the night in the countryside.

When he returned to the village the next day, he happened to see Adam and Chen Jianqiu competing for wine. The two were sitting on both sides of the table, and two bottles of Erguotou were placed in the center of the table.

There is a row of wine glasses on the table, and two people are "dueling" one-on-one.

This is a very Chinese way of drinking, and Chen Jianqiu doesn't like it, but Adam is obsessed with Erguotou for some reason. As far as Chen Jianqiu knows, this kind of wine is considered poison in the throat by Americans.

So Uncle Zhang Danian, who loves to watch the excitement, arranged this "exchange".

At this time, he was happily filling the two of them.

The result was predictable. As soon as he had his fifth cup, Adam lay down on the table. Chen Jianqiu, who was opposite him, looked normal except for a slightly red face.

Asuka looked at Adam lying on the table with pity.

People are really addicted to food.

Sean also ran to the table and was eager to try. He picked up a glass and poured it into his mouth, and then squirted out.

"What is this?"

Zhang Danian laughed loudly.

Chen Jianqiu stretched out a hand to Sean. Only then did the black man remember his mission. He handed Chen Jianqiu the piece of paper with the streets where Irish people lived on.

Handed over along with the paper was Lockhart's business card.

Chen Jianqiu frowned.

"Lockhart is dead." Sean said, and he told Chen Jianqiu in detail what he had encountered.

Chen Jianqiu crossed his hands and fingers in front of him, thinking.

"The things in that bag may be a backup of the map, and the notebook may be a translation of the symbols on the map." He suddenly asked, "You said there is a group of people following you besides Pinkerton?"

"Yes." Sean nodded.

"Are you sure it's not the police?"

"The police are not that fast."

Chen Jianqiu fell into deep thought again.

Pinkerton men risked their reputation by killing a University of Denver professor in the city of Denver.

It seems that these treasures are not trivial, and they are not willing to kill people to silence them.

But where did this other wave of people come from? What is their purpose?

At this time, the young man Zhang Danian sent out to inquire about the news also came back.

"The address on the card is a hotel where Mr. Holmes did stay, and he was commuting between the University of Denver and the hotel during this time."

An idea suddenly flashed through Chen Jianqiu's mind while he was thinking, and he stood up suddenly.

"Holmes is in danger."

……

Holmes was a little uneasy. He was rejected by Lockhart and basically didn't get any useful information.

But Lockhart's evasive words made him understand that things might not be that simple.

So he used his status as a geologist to apply for the right to read the library's collection of books with the University of Denver. At this time, the collection of the University of Denver was not as amazing as it would later be, but it had already gathered a lot of first-hand information.

A week later, he finally found the answer in a tattered notebook on the bottom of the bookshelf.

This notebook comes from a late Spanish explorer, and Holmes happened to be fluent in Spanish.

The symbols on it were very similar to what he saw on Chen Jianqiu's picture of human skin.

He copied these pages from the notebook, and then prepared to return the notebook to its original place.

But before he took a few steps, he stopped and came back.

He took out the notebook, found the pages with the symbols, looked up and looked around to make sure no one was around, then gritted his teeth, tore off the pages, and stuffed them into his notebook.

Holmes hurriedly walked out of the library door with his head lowered. He didn't even notice an acquaintance coming to greet him.

"Mr. Holmes, where are you going in such a hurry?" The voice came, and Holmes had to raise his head.

It was Philby, a scholar who also taught at the University of Denver and had certain attainments in history.

"Uh, I, I'm going to find Professor Lockhart," Holmes replied.

"Huh? Don't you know? Professor Lockhart is dead." Philby looked regretful. "The police just came here this morning. He was shot dead in an alley in the city last night."

Holmes stood frozen.

Philby knew that he and Lockhart were very close friends, so he thought he was grieving for Lockhart's death, so he just stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder.

He left, leaving Holmes alone.

Holmes' mind went blank. If Lockhart died, would it be his turn next?

"Are you Mr. Holmes? Do you mind coming with us?" A voice came from behind Holmes with a strong Mexican accent.

"I-if I mind, is that okay?" Holmes turned his head and saw two strong men behind him.

Two men stood on the left and right, sandwiching him in the middle.

"You can't do this, this is in Denver, at the University of Denver!" Holmes said, his voice regaining its stability.

"But this is also in the west." One of the men answered very simply.

Holmes followed the two people out of the campus and came to a small cabin. He knew this place. It was originally provided for students or faculty to hike and rest, but it was later abandoned because it was too far from the campus.

The three men entered the room, and Holmes looked up.

There were seven or eight people in the room, and only one person was sitting. The man fiddled with two ants on the table. When he saw someone coming in, he killed the two poor ants and turned to Holmes.

"Let me introduce myself first. My name is Hernandez. I used to be Mexican, but now I am American." The old man, who looked quite old, said in a hoarse voice.

"My friend, ah, Mr. Lockhart, who died last night, told me that you have all seen a treasure map. Is there such a thing?"

Holmes' head shook like a rattle.

"He told me it was an Aztec treasure, is that true?" Hernandez continued.

"You know more than me, sir." Holmes looked helpless. He really wanted to drag Lockhart out of hell and ask why he was involved.

"Originally, he promised to give me the copy, but he had an accident." Hernandez seemed to never care about other people's feedback.

"Then you should ask for it from the person who took your copy, sir."

"That belongs to us! Do you know? That is the treasure of us Mexicans!" Hernandez suddenly became furious for no reason, "So, where was it originally? Where was it originally!"

Holmes was in trouble and couldn't tell him. Tell him that he had only seen it once?

However, a familiar voice came from outside the door.

"You guys bully the weak and fear the strong. I have the map."

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