THE LAST STROKE.
The landlady was called, but she declared that the boy and girl had left
without her knowledge. She had not seen them go, and she had not the
least idea whither they had gone.
“Strange Brad left no word,” said Dick. “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 Dick. “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 Dick. “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 passing through a narrow
canal when Dick’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?”
Dick 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!
Dick 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.
“Hello, 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 Dick.
“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 passage 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 Dick 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 Dick. “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.
Dick 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.
As for Reggio, he easily satisfied the law that he had killed Mullura in
defense of his sister, after Mullura had failed in an effort to
assassinate him, and therefore, he was formally acquitted.
His escape from death he had truthfully described to Mullura ere
striking the fatal blow. A woman whom he had befriended in the house
where he lived had bandaged his wounds and hidden him away, although in
mortal terror of her life while doing so. Of course she had declared,
when questioned, that she knew nothing of the desperate encounter on the
stairs.
The gratitude of both Reggio and Teresa toward their American friends
was very great.
The joy of the girl who had thus found her brother may be imagined, but
no words can describe it. It happened that Reggio had come to those
friends for shelter, and thus he had been on hand when Mullura appeared.
“Well, partner,” said Buckhart, after all these matters had been
settled, “we’ve certain had a warm time in Venice while it lasted. It
was somewhat too warm, but this calm after the storm is altogether too
calm. I’m getting a bit restless. I think we’d better float on.”
“So do I,” nodded Dick. “What do you say, professor?”
“All right, boys—all right,” nodded Zenas. “We’ll jog along into Greece,
but it will be just like you to get into some sort of trouble there and
keep me nerved up all the time.”
“Hurrah for Greece!” cried Dick.