Kitabı oku: «Dick Merriwell Abroad: or, The Ban of the Terrible Ten», sayfa 9

“No, no, no! Oh, Reggio, my brother, my dear, good brother, why should they do it? It cannot be true!”

“You know, little sister, that a Tortora never stained his hand with crime. The Ten live and grow fat on the proceeds of crime. Every man who fails to contribute his share of loot at their command is sure in the end to get the iron ring. When that happens, unless he is able to flee from Venice at once, he is doomed to die. I have no money. I cannot flee. The ring was tossed at my feet. Within twenty-four hours from the time it fell there I shall be dead. Poor, little Teresa! What will become of you?”

She put her slender arms round him and clung to him with fierce affection, as if she would in some manner protect him from the black peril that threatened. Again and again she cried that it could not be, this terrible thing. She drew him down, wound her arms about his neck and kissed him.

“Brad,” said Dick, in a husky voice, “we must save Tortora somehow.”

“Right you are, partner!” agreed the Texan heartily. “I was thinking of that some before getting a look at his sister; and I am thinking it a heap sight more since. However are we going to do it?”

“We must get him out of Venice before the blow is struck by the Terrible Ten.”

“Or take to the warpath and chaw up the Terrible Ten. That would suit me a heap better.”

“That’s out of the question. The only way is to smuggle Reggio out of Venice. I have a way. The fishing boats! They start out for the fishing grounds of the open sea before daybreak. We must find a man who, for a sufficient bribe, will hide Reggio aboard his boat, take him out of the city, and keep him until we can get along with a little steamer. It will cost a lot of money, but what is money when a human life is in the balance!”

Reggio had been listening to Dick’s words. He now put his sister gently aside, turning to the boy, placed his hands on Merriwell’s shoulders, and spoke with deep feeling:

“A thousand times I thank-a you, my frien’! You good-a, kind-a! No use to try. No do-a it.”

“Why not?”

The gondolier explained that in all Venice there was not one fisherman who would dare smuggle him away on learning that he had been condemned by the Ten, and had been given the iron ring. The man who did it would be assassinated in less than a day and a night after his return to the city.

“But why tell him that you have received the ring?” asked Dick.

For a moment Reggio’s face brightened, and then the shadow returned and settled upon it.

“Would you hav-a me getta poor feesh’man killed?” he asked. “That what come-a to him. You gent’man-a. You save-a me from da Ten, but you gitta da in’cent man-a kill.”

“Well, that sure takes the prize!” muttered Brad. “I’ll never say again that a dago has no sense of real honor and justice. How many men would think of that? What would they care? To escape they would be willing to sacrifice a dozen innocent men. Pard, it sure is a whole lot amazing!”

Dick agreed that it was. Then he talked earnestly with Reggio, seeking to discover or invent some plan by which the escape could be contrived.

The gondolier insisted that all efforts were useless. Never had any man placed beneath the ban of the Ten escaped. He seemed to think the power of the Ten was almost infinite. In the old days the Council of Ten had possessed unlimited power, but even the original council, it seemed, had not been more dreaded than were the Ten of modern times.

At last Reggio said:

“You want-a do somet’ing for me-a? Good! You have-a da mon’. You honorable gent’man-a. See my little sister? I leave-a her all ’lone in da worl’. You take-a her to ’Merica? Over dere, in da cit’ of New York-a live one Antonio Melino. He know-a me – know-a my father – know-a my sister. You take-a her to him; he take-a care of her. What you say to dat?”

“It shall be done!” cried Dick.

Then, of a sudden, came a loud hammering on the door at the foot of the stairs, heavy blows that resounded crashingly through that part of the building.

“They have come!” said Reggio, in Italian.

CHAPTER XIX. – 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!”