THE BURSTING OF THE DOOR.
Plainly the door was being attacked by heavy instruments for the purpose
of battering it down. Again Teresa clutched her brother and clung to
him.
“Little sister, little sister,” he said, “if you cling to me so, how
shall I defend myself?”
“I cannot lose you, Reggio!” she sobbed. “It is wicked! They shall not
kill you!”
He implored her to release him.
“Let me go down and meet them,” he said. “If they come here to do the
deed, then, in order to leave no living witnesses, they may destroy you
and these good American friends who have promised to help you reach
Antonio Melino.”
“Do you think the assassins have come to do the work?” asked Dick, his
black eyes gleaming.
“I think so.”
“Then give us weapons! Let’s stand together! We can thin out this
dastardly gang somewhat before they can do the job!”
“That’s the talk, pard!” shouted Buckhart. “Whoop! If we were supplied
with shooting irons, we’d sure come pretty near wiping the old Ten off
the map to-night. Give us something—anything! We’ll make a hole in the
bunch! You hear me warble?”
“It is madness!” exclaimed the gondolier, as the blows continued to
resound. “It means the death of all! Flee with Teresa! For her sake——”
Brad had been looking around. The room was rather poorly furnished. At
one side sat a rude wooden table. This the Texan seized, turning it
bottom up in a twinkling. Planting his foot upon it, the Texan grasped a
leg of the table and gave it a mighty wrench, literally twisting it off.
This leg he flourished over his head.
“Here’s my war club, pard!” he shouted. “I opine I can crack a head with
that.”
Dick followed Brad’s example, and in a moment or two he had torn off
another leg of the table.
Reggio looked on in wonderment. He could not understand why these
American boys should sacrifice their lives for him. Never before in all
his life had he seen boys like these.
Teresa clasped her hands and gazed at them also, her eyes kindling with
unspeakable admiration.
Crash! crash! crash! sounded the heavy blows.
The door was falling.
Suddenly Reggio awoke. His bloodstained knife appeared once more in his
hand, and he flourished it above his head.
“Let them come, then!” he cried. “If we all die, we’ll do what we can to
destroy the Ten who have a hundred poor Venetians beneath their feet!”
“That’s the talk!” said Dick, whose face was flushed and whose eyes
gleamed, “To the stairs, Reggio! Let Teresa hold the light, that we may
see. There will be some broken heads before they do the job they have
blocked out.”
“Talk about Texas!” burst from Brad. “Why, Texas is a Sunday-school
picnic all the time compared with Venice! The wild and woolly West won’t
seem half so wild and woolly to me if I ever get back to it.”
Teresa was brave. She caught up the candle, and said she was ready. As
they hurried from the room to the stairs, the door fell with a sound of
splintered wood.
“Just in time!” exclaimed Dick, hearing many voices and the sound of
feet at the foot of the stairs.
They reached the head of the flight. Teresa was close at hand, and she
held the candle as high as she could reach, in order that its light
might shine down those stairs.
At the bottom of the flight were a number of men—not less than six or
seven. They paused as the light revealed them.
Reggio Tortora gave a shout of astonishment.
“They are not the Ten!” he declared. “The Ten are always in cloaks and
hoods.”
“Then who are they?” questioned Dick.
“Bravos, desperadoes of the city—men who rob and murder! They have been
sent by the Ten, for——”
He stopped, catching his breath. Among those men, and at the head of
them, he saw a man whose clothing still hung dripping damp upon his
limbs. This man’s jacket was gone, and about his shoulder were many
bandages. His arm was bound in a bent position to his side.
“Mullura!” gasped Reggie. “He still lives!”
“You’re right!” savagely retorted the leader of the bravos. “I still
live, and I’ll yet have Teresa for my own! You shall die the death of a
dog!”
“This is a whole lot interesting!” observed Brad Buckhart.
At this point Teresa produced a slender dagger, which she held aloft,
crying down the stairs:
“Ere you put your hands on me, Nicola Mullura, I’ll plunge this into my
heart! It is my dead body you may obtain—no more!”
For a moment Mullura seemed taken aback. Then he forced a laugh,
sneering:
“Very finely spoken, but your courage will not take you that far,
beautiful Teresa. You’ll not be so foolish. I’ll take you with me to
America, where I am a great man, and you shall be my wife. If your
brother agrees to this, I will not lift my hand against him, even though
he so nearly destroyed me to-night. Come, my Reggio, what say you?”
“Teresa, it is for you to answer,” said the gondolier.
“Then I will answer!” she exclaimed, her dark eyes flashing fire. “Not
if he were king of all America would I consent!”
“You have had your answer, Nicola Mullura!” cried Reggio, in
satisfaction.
“And it seemed good and hot,” chuckled Buckhart.
“Have it as you like!” snarled Mullura. “These men will soon overpower
you. Your resistance will simply make them all the more furious.”
“Let them come on,” said Tortora; “but see that you come at their front.
My knife found your shoulder a while ago. Next time, if the saints are
with me, it shall find your black heart!”
“They are going to rush in a moment, Brad!” breathed Dick. “They are
getting ready.”
“I’m ready, too,” declared the undaunted Texan. “I’ll guarantee that
I’ll crack one head, at least, with this table leg!”
Dick was right. Mullura spoke to his companions in low tones. They
gathered themselves, and with a yell, they came charging up the stairs.
“Whoop!” roared Buckhart. “Wake up snakes and hump yourselves! Now there
will be doings!” The fighting Texan seemed in his element. His face
glowed with a sort of fine frenzy.
Dick Merriwell’s eyes shone like stars. He laughed as he saw the bravos
coming. It might be a fight to the death, but, with his blood bounding
in his veins, he felt no thrill of dread. He was defending the innocent;
his cause was just, and he gloried in the encounter.
The desperadoes flourished their gleaming knives, seeming to hope to
intimidate the defenders in that manner. In truth, they were a
savage-appearing set.
Reggio, too, was undaunted. The dauntless bravery of the boys was
infectious.
There was little time to wait. Seeming to look at one man, Dick swung
his club and smote another wretch over the head.
The fellow went whirling end over end down the stairs.
Buckhart dropped another in his tracks.
Reggio tried to get at Nicola Mullura.
“Come within reach of my arm, you dog!” he entreated. “America will lose
one great man, who will return no more.”
But it was another of the ruffians who tried to get under the guard of
the gondolier and drive his knife home.
Reggio was too quick for the man. He struck and thrust his own blade
through the fellow’s forearm.
With a shriek, the wretch dropped his own blade, clutched his wounded
arm, which quickly began to drip blood, and fell back against the man
behind him.
“Oh! if you were looking for two kids who couldn’t fight any, you’re
beginning to understand your mistake,” shouted Buckhart.
Mullura urged them on. Still he continued to take pains to keep beyond
the stroke of Reggio. The gondolier taunted him with cowardice, and
begged him to come nearer. In his desire to get at his enemy once more,
he forgot the peril of the others.
Dick saw a bravo strike at Reggio, but Merriwell struck at the same
time. His club fell across the arm of the ruffian, which was broken.
In that moment, however, Dick exposed himself, and one of the ruffians,
who had been struck down on the stairs, crept up and clasped him about
the knees.
The boy was pulled off his feet. He seized his assailant as he fell, and
together they rolled down the stairs. Of course Merriwell’s club was
lost, and he was compelled to fight the bravo hand to hand.
The man tried to get his fingers on Dick’s throat. Now, although a boy,
young Merriwell was a trained athlete, and in the finest condition
possible. If that ruffian fancied he was dealing with an ordinary boy
who could be handled easily, he met the surprise of his life.
For a time they twisted and turned there in the gloom at the foot of the
stairs. The boy baffled the ruffian in his efforts, all the while
seeking to secure the advantage himself.
While this was taking place Dick heard a cry of distress from Teresa,
and at the same moment the candle and candlestick fell on the stairs,
the light being extinguished.
At this juncture Merriwell obtained a hold on the ruffian’s arm, giving
it a twisting wrench that robbed the fellow of strength and nearly
rendered him unconscious. In a twinkling the boy was the master.
Just then some one came hastening down the stairs and nearly fell over
them. This person swore as he gathered himself up and rushed out on the
steps.
Something led Dick to follow.
The darkness between the buildings was not as deep as that within, and
he saw a man placing a huge bundle in a gondola that floated at the foot
of the steps.
Something told Dick this bundle was Teresa. Unhesitatingly he leaped
forward.
The man turned in time to meet the attack of the courageous lad. Just as
Dick would have grappled with the fellow, he slipped. Before he could
recover, he received a stunning blow that hurled him flat and helpless,
although he was still conscious. He lay quite still, unable to lift a
hand.
The man produced a knife, seemingly determined to finish the boy without
delay. Although he realized his peril, young Merriwell could not lift a
finger or make a move to save himself. As the desperado stepped toward
him, the lad gave himself up as done for.
At that moment, unseen by the murderous thug, another dark form issued
from the doorway onto the steps.
The man with the knife bent over Dick, lifting the weapon. A pantherish
figure shot forward, and a club fell with crushing force on the head of
the wretch, who was stretched prone and senseless beside his intended
victim.
“This yere old table leg has sure done its duty tonight,” said a voice
that thrilled Merriwell.
With a supreme effort Dick softly called:
“Brad!”
“It is you, pard!” exclaimed the Texan, in delight. “I certain was
seeking for you some! What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
“Give me a hand,” urged Dick. “I was stunned. You saved my life,
Buckhart. That fellow would have finished me only for you and your table
leg.”
In a moment Buckhart had Dick on his feet, supporting him with a strong
arm.
“You’re not cut up, are you, partner?” anxiously inquired the loyal
fellow. “I saw you go bumping down the stairs with one of the bunch, and
I was a heap concerned for you. First opportunity I found I hiked to
look for you. I thought mebbe that galoot with the sticker might be
after you, and that’s why I lost no time in cracking him on the kabeza.”
“I don’t think I’ve been cut. Couldn’t tell just what did happen in the
fighting, but I believe I’ll be all right in a few moments.”
“Then it’s up to us to do something for Teresa. I sure would like to
know what has become of her. The gang up there are hunting high and low
for her.”
“Why, one of them brought her down the stairs and placed her in this
gondola. I’m sure of it.”
“Great horn spoon! Then it’s us to the gondola and away from here!”
“But Reggio?”
“We can’t do anything for him.”
“Why not?”
“They’ve finished him.”
“Killed him? Do you mean that?”
“That’s whatever. Teresa dropped the candle when she saw him knifed.
Didn’t you hear her scream?”
“You’re sure—you’re sure Reggio was killed?”
“Dead sure, pard.”
“Then let’s get away in the gondola. If I was not mistaken in thinking
this wretch placed Teresa in it, we can save her, at least.”
Dick was not mistaken, as they found when they sprang into the boat.
Teresa lay unconscious amid the cushions.
By this time Merriwell had recovered his strength in a measure, and he
started to cast off the line that held the boat beside the steps.
“The galoots are coming, pard!” hissed Brad, as he seized the oar.
The bravos were coming. Just as Dick freed the line from the iron ring,
several of them hastened out onto the steps.
The Texan gave a great thrust with the oar, pushing the gondola away.
The voice of Nicola Mullura shouted to them, commanding them to stop.
“We’re in a hurry,” retorted Dick. “Our time is very valuable. We can’t
stop just now.”
“Not even a little minute,” said Brad, as he continued to use the oar
with as much skill as he could command.
“Look out, Brad!” shouted Dick, warningly, at the same time dropping
quickly.
He had seen Mullura making a sweeping movement with his right arm.
Dick dropped barely in time, for through the air whizzed a knife, cast
with great precision, and with such force that it clanged against the
wall of the opposite house, dropping back with a splash into the water.
“A miss is as good as a mile,” said Merriwell. “But look out for
yourself, Brad. Another may follow.”
Another of the desperadoes did cast a knife at them, but his aim was
poor, and soon the gondola shot out from the narrow passage onto the
bosom of a broader canal.
They came near colliding with another boat that was moving swiftly and
silently along.
“Look out, there!” cried Brad. “Clear the trail for us, or you may get
yourself run down a whole lot.”
Behind the curtains of the other gondola there was a stir. The curtains
parted and a familiar face peered forth in the moonlight.
“Hi, there—hey!” cried the excited voice of Professor Gunn. “Stop! stop!
I have found you!”
“Professor!” exclaimed Dick. “Where have you been?”
“Seeking assistance. Looking for officers. Can’t find them. Had no end
of trouble. Bless my stars! I was afraid I’d never see you boys alive
again. Goodness knows I’m thankful to behold you!”
“But what made you leave us?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t intend to do it. I was excited. I confess I was
excited. Who wouldn’t be under such circumstances? Two men—two mad men
were trying to cut each other into shreds right before my eyes. I
slipped the line from the ring. Didn’t know what I was doing. The tide
carried the boat away. I clutched the oar and tried to row back. Made a
mess of it, and lost the oar. In the midst of my excitement, after the
tide had carried me out of that canal, a human head appeared beside the
boat. Yes, sir—exactly so. A man was in the water. He was hurt, too.
Swam with one arm. Other arm didn’t seem to have much strength. He
appealed to me for assistance. Of course I rendered assistance.”
“Which certain was the worst thing you could have done,” said Brad.
“That’s how Mullura escaped, Dick.”
“The man must be a fine swimmer. In some manner he swam under water
after falling into the canal until the darkness of the place hid him
completely.”
“It was a bad thing—a very bad thing,” agreed the professor. “The man
was a wretch, a scoundrel, a villain!”
“Which sure are too soft names for him,” growled Buckhart.
The two gondolas were now side by side.
“Quite true, quite true,” agreed the excitable old man. “I found it out.
But I couldn’t refuse to help a man in distress, you know. I helped him
on board. He managed to pick up the oar. Then, using his uninjured hand,
he rowed. I urged him to take me back to find you. He cursed me. He told
me to keep still or he would cut my heart out. My goodness! I didn’t
want him to do that! I kept still.”
“A most natural thing to do,” said Dick.
“I am glad you say so—very glad. Hum! ha! My position was
unpleasant—decidedly so. But I kept still. He handled the gondola. He
did it cleverly. But he lost no time in dodging into another canal. I
remonstrated. I told him I did not like the place. It was too dark. He
invited me to be quiet. I relapsed into silence. Here and there in the
darkness he went. At last he stopped. He ordered me to land. I was
compelled to do so. I didn’t dare raise another remonstrance. He left
me. I was in a scrape. Ha! hum! It was a very bad scrape.”
Plainly the professor was very anxious to set himself right in the eyes
of the boys.
“After that?” questioned Dick.
“When he left me he told me if I raised a rumpus he would come back and
slice me. I couldn’t get away, and I had no weapon to protect myself, so
I was compelled to be quiet. I remained there until this gondola came
past. Then I applied to the gondolier. Since that time I have been
searching to find that canal where you were. That is all.”
In some respects the professor’s explanation seemed unsatisfactory, but,
of course, the boys accepted it. Dick explained what had happened after
the disappearance of Zenas, using as few words as possible.
“Dreadful! horrible!” cried the old man. “Can such things be in these
days! But you rescued the girl?”
“She is here,” said Dick.
At this point Teresa, recovering consciousness, began calling for her
brother.
Dick tried to soothe her, but, overcome by the memory of what she had
beheld ere dropping the candle and fainting, the girl raved
incoherently.
Dick and Brad quickly decided to abandon the gondola they occupied and
take to the other. Merriwell picked Teresa up and stepped with her from
one boat to the other, the Texan following.
“Now to our rooms,” said Dick. “That is our only course. We must take
care of Teresa. We must protect her with our lives.”
“And you bet we will!” put in Brad.
“But I fear it is certain to involve us still further with the assassins
known as the Terrible Ten,” sighed the professor. “Still, boys, you are
right about Teresa. We must stand by her. We must do everything in our
power for her. It is our duty as men and Americans.”
The gondolier was given directions, and he sent his craft gliding away.
“What puzzles me,” said Brad, “is that the rumpus made by that fight
didn’t seem to stir up anybody much. That plenty of people heard it I am
sure, but they didn’t come hiking to see what it was all about.”
“Because in that particular quarter of the city it is not safe to be too
curious, I fancy,” said Dick. “I believe that explained why no one who
heard the sounds of the encounter came to investigate. They all kept
still and prayed that they would not be involved.”
“I have a theory,” put in Professor Gunn, “that the people of the city
live in great terror of this awful Ten. They do not even dare speak of
the Ten, but all the while they fear it as much as the old-time Council
of Ten was feared. When they hear anything like that encounter, they
proceed to crawl into their holes and barricade themselves there until
the storm blows over.”
“Well, it sure is high time something was done to put an end to such a
reign of terror,” declared the Texan. “It’s up to us to expose the
doings of the Ten. I don’t see why somebody hasn’t exposed them long
before this.”
“It is doubtful if any foreigners, except ourselves, ever learned much
of anything about the Ten,” said Dick. “That is one reason why there had
been no exposure.”
The gondolier did not seem to hear a word of their talk. Professor Gunn
now resolved to question him. The old man proceeded to ask him several
things about the Terrible Ten, but the man at the oar shook his head and
answered that he knew nothing of such a body. He even became somewhat
angry when Zenas persisted in his questions.
“Signor,” he said haughtily, “why should you believe that I speak a
falsehood? I am a poor man, and I attend to my own business. I have no
time to listen to foolish gossip. You say there is such a body. I would
not be impolite, signor, so I simply say that of it I know nothing at
all. I must beg you to ask no further questions.”
Through all this Teresa had continued to mutter and moan about her
brother. They could do nothing to comfort her. Dick tried it, but his
Italian was poor, and he entreated the professor to say something
soothing to the girl.
Gently the old man placed an arm about her shoulders.
“My child,” he said, “your brother was a brave, man, but he could not
escape the decree of this terrible band. He knew he could not escape,
and he entreated Richard, as a great favor, to take you to America and
deliver you to friends of your family who are there. This we shall do.
Trust us.”
“I do trust you, signor,” she sobbed; “but I cannot forget the terrible
thing I saw—my brother slain before my eyes! I can never forget that!”
“No wonder, dear child. You should be thankful you escaped from those
men.”
“Until I am far away from Venice I shall not feel that I have escaped.
Nicola Mullura will do everything in his power to place his bloody hands
on me. I shall live in constant terror of him.”
“He shall never touch you!” cried Zenas. “Boys, she fears the wretch,
Mullura, will get possession of her.”
“Teresa,” said Dick, using as good Italian as he could command, “we
swear to defend you with our lives. You may depend on us.”
“You are such brave boys—such wonderfully brave boys!” murmured the
girl.
“I can’t say it in dago talk,” put in Brad; “but you bet your boots,
Teresa, that what my pard has promised, we’ll back up. You hear me
shout!”