and dog tags. He wore a bandana wrapped around his forehead, and another one tied around his bicep.
Raj always kept his bug-out bag waiting by his bedroom door in case of emergency. It was crammed with survival gear: nutrition bars, a Swiss Army knife, a snakebite kit, fishhooks, camouflage makeup, malaria pills, iodine pills, a bear whistle, a passport, waterproof matchsticks, binoculars, ten feet of snare wire, and a pack of Jolly Ranchers.
Raj shouldered his pack and kissed his dog tags. He vaulted out of his window and onto the fire escape. Scaling the wrought-iron railing, he crept around the perimeter of the building. He slipped through the neighborâs fire-escape landing and reached Addisonâs open window. Raj rolled inside, landing on Addisonâs bed. Then he bolted across the floor and somersaulted into Addisonâs living room.
Addison sat comfortably on the sofa, his legs crossed. He checked his wristwatch and cocked an eyebrow. âThirty-nine seconds. Youâre getting rusty, Raj.â
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
There was a hesitant knock at the door, and Molly let Eddie inside. He still looked bleary-eyed from sleep, his black hair sticking up in back, but he was snappily dressed in his public school uniform. The tallest of the group, Eddieâs pant legs showed a few inches of ankle. He scanned the overturned coffee table and books scattered across the room. âI like what youâve done with the place.â
âWe were ransacked,â explained Molly.
âAwesome,â said Raj, his eyes glittering with excitement.
Addison debriefed the team, bringing them up to speed on the kidnapping, the chase, Professor Ragar, Atahualpaâs key, and the Incan treasure. Most people would be astonished by this rapid turn of events, but Eddie and Raj were familiar with Addisonâs stunning capacity for getting himself into trouble.
âSo where do we come in?â
âRaj, youâre here because you graduated from survival camp twice, youâre a brown belt in karate, you can hold your breath for two minutes underwater, and youâre the most highly decorated Boy Scout in PS 141,â said Addison.
âWhy am I here?â asked Eddie.
âYou speak Spanish.â
âHe does?â Molly asked, incredulous.
âSÃ.â
Eddie shrugged. âBecause of my nanny.â He had wandered into the kitchen to rummage around in the Cookesâ refrigerator. He returned with a tin of olives, some uncooked hot dogs, and a jar of spaghetti sauce.
Addison pulled out his notebook and showed Eddie his copy of Atahualpaâs key. âItâs a riddle that leads us to the next key. Can you translate it?â
âItâs impressive writing,â said Eddie, peering at the intricate Spanish cursive inlaid on the key. âItâs like cake frosting.â
âWhat does it say?â
Eddie dipped a raw hot dog into the spaghetti sauce, garnished it with a row of olives, and took a bite.
Molly grimaced.
Eddie smiled contentedly. He cleared his throat dramatically and read . . .
âIn the seat of the Andes Mountains,
By the
RÃo Olvidado
,
Lie the bones of the underworld
That guard the key to silver and cheese.â
âCheese?â asked Molly.
Eddie tilted the page to the light and studied the ancient calligraphy more closely. âGold,â he corrected himself. âThe key to silver and
gold
.â
âHm,â said Addison.
âThe whole thing rhymes a lot better in Spanish.â
âThank you, Eddie.â Addison paced a fresh lap around the overturned coffee table. âThe good news,â he announced, âis that I checked out every book in the library on Incan history.â Addison frowned, deep in thought. âThe bad news is, all the books are in my backpack. And my backpack is in my uncle Nigelâs office at the museum.â
âWhyâd you leave it there?â