Dick Merriwell Abroad - BestLightNovel.com
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"Strange Brad left no word," said d.i.c.k. "He should have left a note, at least."
But they found nothing to tell them what had become of the missing ones.
"This is awful!" exclaimed the professor, mopping his face with his handkerchief. "I fear some fearful thing has happened to Bradley. And we can do absolutely nothing with the authorities."
"Come!" cried d.i.c.k. "At least, we can report it."
They hastened to the steps and called to a gondolier who was slowly propelling his boat past.
"In this city it is impossible to follow a trail," said d.i.c.k. "These watery streets leave no scent. A bloodhound would be useless here."
They gave the gondolier his orders. He took them by several short cuts on the way to their destination. They were pa.s.sing through a narrow ca.n.a.l when d.i.c.k's attention became drawn by some mysterious influence to a dark door set in a wall some distance above the water.
Suddenly that door flew open before his eyes. Cloaked and hooded men appeared within the doorway, their faces concealed from view.
"Goodness!" gasped the professor, in astonishment. "Who are they Richard? What are they doing?"
d.i.c.k did not answer, for a strange thrill had shot over him at sight of those men, among whom a silent struggle seemed taking place.
All at once, before their startled eyes a human figure was hurled headlong from that mysterious doorway, whirling over and over in the air!
It was Brad Buckhart!
d.i.c.k recognized his friend. He saw Brad strike the water and disappear with a great splash. Then he called a sharp order to the gondolier.
The black door closed above them, and the mysterious men in cloaks and hoods were hidden from view.
It was not long before Brad rose to the surface, spouting water like a whale.
"h.e.l.lo, pard!" he cheerfully called. "This ain't the first time I've been in swimming with my clothes on."
In a moment he was at the side of the gondola and drawn, dripping wet, upon it.
"For the love of goodness, explain this, Brad!" urged d.i.c.k.
"Been back to our ranch?" questioned the Texan.
"Yes."
"Get my note?"
"No."
"That's right queer."
"Did you leave a note?"
"Sure thing. I left one telling you how I could do nothing with Teresa unless I held her by main strength. She became a whole lot unmanageable after you left. Reason didn't cut any ice with her-none whatever. She was bound to go forth to some friends she knew. At last I opined I'd go with her, if she did go. I called a gondolier, and we hiked merrily on our way. She did have some people she knew, all right, and they live somewhere in this ranch. This is the back door. We entered from the front. The minute she got with her friends she allowed it was up to me to amble and leave her.
"Say, it's no use trying to reason with a girl. Talk was wasted. She just got up and left me. I might have departed in peace, but I took a notion to explore the ranch. I prowled round through it. Don't know how many rooms I roamed through, but finally I didn't know which way to get out. I wandered through a pa.s.sage and opened a door. Next thing I knew I was in trouble. I had stumbled right into a mess of galoots all sitting round solemn as owls in a circle. They wore black cloaks and hoods that hid their faces. Before I could say Jack Robinson they had me. I put up the best fight I knew how, for I judged they were going to do me for keeps. I don't want to boast, but I certain soaked some of the bunch a few swats in the slats that they will remember. It wasn't any use. They just hustled me along to that door up there and pitched me out into the drink. That's the whole story, and here I am, a heap wet, but still lively and chipper."
"Brad," questioned d.i.c.k eagerly, "how many of those cloaked men were there?"
"Didn't have time to count 'em. I know what you're thinking, pard, and I certain agree with you that it's some likely I ran slam into the Terrible Ten. I judge they were holding a council of war when I burst in on them."
"And Teresa is somewhere in that building. Brad, we must make an attempt to find her."
"Anything you say goes."
"Boys, boys, boys!" spluttered the professor, turning pale. "You'll come to your death through such rashness. I must object. I must protect you.
It is my duty. What will Frank say if I fail to do my duty?"
But the boys were both reckless and determined. It was not long before they were at the front of the house into which Buckhart averred he had escorted Teresa. They landed on the steps, urging Zenas to wait for them in the boat.
Another gondola floated at the steps, the gondolier idly waiting for some one.
"This wasn't here a short time ago," said Brad. "Somebody has visitors in the house, I judge."
They obtained admittance, but to their surprise Professor Gunn clung to them.
"I'm going to stick by you, even if it costs me my life," he said.
Barely were they inside when they were startled by a scream.
"The voice of Teresa!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "She's up there somewhere!"
They rushed up the stairs. The door of a room stood open. In that room Teresa Tortora was struggling in the arms of a man, and that man was Nicola Mullura.
"I have found you, my pretty bird!" cried Mullura, in satisfaction. "I traced you here. Now you are mine, and you cannot escape!"
A door at the opposite end of the room, and directly behind the back of the desperado, suddenly and silently opened. Through the doorway stepped a man whose face was pale as death, and whose eyes shone with a fearful light.
d.i.c.k and Brad were turned to stone, for the man was Reggio Tortora, whom they had thought dead!
Tortora did not see them. His eyes were fastened on his sister and Mullura. With swift and noiseless steps, he rushed upon the man, clutching him about the neck and twisting him backward over a bent leg.
Mullura, being thus flung backward and held helpless, could look straight up into the face of Tortora.
"You dog!" panted Reggio. "You left me for dead last night, but a woman found me and bandaged my wounds. She kept me from bleeding to death, and now I am here to kill you! Your time has come, and you die the death you deserve!"
Then his hand, gripping a knife, rose and fell!
For a long time the Venetian police had been investigating the stories of the Terrible Ten. Already they had found sufficient evidence, but they were waiting for the proper moment to bag the whole Ten at a swoop.
On the very day that Reggio Tortora killed Nicola Mullura the police descended on the rascals, who had begun to create such a reign of terror in Venice, and captured them all. The evidence against them was overwhelming, and the whole ten were given the full punishment which the law provided for their crimes.