Dick Merriwell Abroad: or, The Ban of the Terrible Ten

“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!”

CHAPTER XX. – THE OATH OF TERESA

Fearing she might do something rash in her distress and occasional spells of delirium, Dick and Brad took turns watching over Teresa that night.

The girl was given one of the three rooms taken by the professor and the boys in a private house. It was useless to urge her to retire. With the horror of what had happened, upon her, and in great fear that Mullura would find her, she kept her clothes on and slept on the outside of the bed. The door between that room and the adjoining one, in which the boys remained that they might be near her, was left slightly ajar at her request.

It was long past midnight before she slept at all. When they peered in, they discovered her lying staring up at the ceiling, her face pale and her lips moving, as if in prayer.

“Pard,” said Brad, “she sure is a right pretty girl.”

“She is,” agreed Dick. “But you mustn’t forget Nadia Budthorne, old man.”

“Now quit!” remonstrated the Texan soberly. “No danger that I’ll get smashed on this girl, partner. My sympathy for her is aroused a heap, that’s all.”

“When a fellow becomes very sympathetic for a pretty girl, he’s liable to fall in love with her. I fancy your sympathy was aroused for Nadia, to begin with.”

“Well, I don’t judge it was a case of sympathy between you and June Arlington.”

“She certainly deserves sympathy,” said Dick. “Think of her fine brother!”

“I don’t want to think of him!” growled the Texan. “Of all onery coyotes, he certain is the worst!”

“He’s about as bad as they make ’em,” nodded Dick.

“And to think that you even fancied there could be any good in him! Long ago you could have turned him out of Fardale by speaking a word, but you let up on him until at last he drove you out. Pard, I say fair and open that I like you a-plenty, but I do think you made a mistake with Arlington. You must know it now.”

Dick was silent for some moments.

“Perhaps you are right,” he finally confessed. “I suppose you are. But I had rather make a mistake by being too generous than to make one in the opposite direction. It isn’t natural for me to be easy with an enemy. I love revenge. But I took my brother for my model. I’m not sorry, either. I think I have changed my revengeful nature to a certain degree. The best friend Frank has in the world, Bart Hodge, was originally his bitterest enemy. Had Frank been revengeful, Hodge might have been ruined. He says so himself. Even if Frank were to make a hundred mistakes in generosity, that one instance – that one good result – would more than outweigh them all. Had I been revengeful, I should have fought Hal Darrell to the bitter end. Such a struggle between us must have been disastrous for one of us at Fardale. I became satisfied that there was little chance that Arlington would reform, and, after becoming thus satisfied, I continued to be lenient with him. You know I gave my promise to his sister, and I couldn’t go back on my word.”

“She must be a whole lot sore with herself for exacting such a promise. Wonder what she thinks about it now?”

“I don’t know. I’ll know some time. But Arlington is not going to triumph in the end. I shall return to Fardale. We’re both going back with the professor. Then it will be my day.”

“And I sure hope you make the most of it. If you get your innings, it will be up to you to rub it into Arlington good and hard.”

This led them to speculating about what was taking place at the old school while they were traveling in foreign lands. They remained talking in low tones until finally, on peering into the next room, it was found that Teresa had fallen asleep.

Brad went to bed, with the understanding that he was to be called at a certain hour for the purpose of remaining on guard during the latter part of the night. Already Professor Gunn was snoring in his room.

Buckhart was soon sleeping. About an hour later Dick heard a low, moaning sound coming from the girl’s room.

He hastened to the door.

Teresa was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped over her heart, staring fixedly at the wall, the moaning sound issuing from her pale lips. Merriwell lost no time in reaching her side.

“What is it?” he asked. “Is there anything I can do, Teresa?”

“Look!” she whispered. “I see him – I see my brother, dead on the stairs! Nicola Mullura has killed him!”

“There, there!” said the boy, soothingly, trying his best to speak her language so she would understand. “You must sleep – you must try to forget it for a while.”

Night passed and morning came, and a great change had come over Teresa. She even greeted her friends with a smile!

“I am glad to see you feel better, Teresa,” said Dick.

“I do feel better, good friend. I am almost happy now.”

“Great horn spoon!” muttered Brad. “And she saw her brother done to death last night! Trouble runs off these Venetians like water off a duck.”

They had breakfast, and through it all the girl maintained the same unnatural light and lively manner.

After breakfast she suggested that, in order to bring no further peril on them, she should depart.

“Not at all!” cried Zenas. “You must remain right here. I am going to the authorities. I am going to inform them all about this band of Ten. I’ll know if they will permit such a thing in Venice. They must bestir themselves! It is high time.”

“Then you may leave me here,” said Teresa eagerly.

At the first opportunity, young Merriwell called Brad into one of the other rooms.

“Brad, I want you to remain here and keep watch over Teresa,” he said. “She is not herself, and may do something rash. Professor Gunn and I are going to see the authorities. Then we’re going to see that a search is made for the body of Reggio. I don’t believe it will be found, for I have an idea that the assassins cast it into the water, and the tide has carried it far out to sea before this. Still it is our duty to have a search made for it.”

“Sure as shooting.”

“You’ll watch her closely, Brad?”

“She may object some, but I’ll do my prettiest, Dick.”

“Good! Now, I have to explain to her and urge her to remain here until we bring back some sort of a report.”

Teresa frowned and shook her head when he told her of the plan.

“I want no one to stay,” she said. “You shall all go.”

“Oh, no, no!” put in Professor Gunn. “We couldn’t think of that, my dear – couldn’t think of it. It wouldn’t be proper. Bradley will remain here to protect you from peril of any sort, and I assure you that he is a brave and noble lad. I do not think I quite understand him at school, but since seeing that he is brave as a lion and generous to a fault, I appreciate him fully.”

“Thank you, professor,” said the Texan. “You’re some complimentary this morning.”

“But not flattering. The truth is never flattery if it is spoken in the right spirit. I am proud to pay this tribute to your fine qualities. I shall be proud to do so before the entire school when we return to Fardale.”

“Oh, Jerusalem! don’t do that, professor!” gasped Buckhart, appalled. “I wouldn’t have you for a barrel of money!”

“Eh? Wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Why, I’d certain take to the tall timber on the jump if you did it. I’d hunt a hole and stay there till the fellows forgot it. They would guy me to death.”

“Would they?” cried Zenas, surprised and displeased. “Now, don’t you think anything of the sort! I’d like to know of them trying it.”

“But you wouldn’t know, you see.”

“You might tell me. It would be your duty to tell me.”

“People do not always do their duty in this world.”

The old pedagogue was surprised and puzzled. He had not fancied Buckhart a modest boy, but now, of a sudden, he realized that the Texan was genuinely modest in a way.

“We’ll say no more about it now, Bradley,” he said gravely. “I believe I am beginning to understand you more and more. You are a very singular lad – very.”

In spite of Teresa’s objections, Brad was left to look out for her, while Dick and the professor departed.

More than two hours later they returned. They had succeeded in reporting to the authorities, but their tale had been received with such apparent incredulity that both were vexed and angered. They had received a promise that the matter should be investigated. More than that, an official had accompanied them to the home of the Tortoras.

On arriving there they found the broken door had been restored and repaired, although not all the signs of the attack upon it had been hidden. There was no blood on the steps outside the door, nor on the stairs where Reggio had been stabbed by Mullura.

The body of the gondolier was not found.

The woman who owned the house explained that there had been carousing in the rooms the previous night, and that her tenants, apparently fearing ejectment, had vanished ere morning.

“But they left all their belongings here,” said Professor Gunn.

“No, no!” exclaimed the woman. “They took everything. Not one thing belonging to them did they leave.”

She persisted in this statement, and all the questions put to her did not confuse her. She also declared she had found no trace of blood on the stairs.

“Then why have those stairs been washed this morning?” demanded Dick.

“It is my custom to have them washed every morning.”

“Question others in the house,” urged Professor Gunn.

But other people in the house were very loath to answer questions, and no satisfaction could be obtained from them.

“They are one and all terrified by the Ten,” asserted Dick. “They dare not confess that they heard the sounds of the fight last night. It is likely they have been warned to be silent.”

“It’s a fine state of affairs!” exclaimed Zenas, exasperated.

The official made a gesture of helplessness.

“You see there is nothing that can be done, signors,” he said.

“And are you going to let this thing go right on in Venice? It will ruin your city. You may have kept it quiet thus far, but it shall be published to the world now. Travelers will cease coming here. Then what will you do? You live off tourists. But for them the city would go to the dogs in a short time. It’s up to you to take hold of this matter in earnest and bring this band of robbers and assassins to justice.”

“We care not for your advice,” was the haughty answer.

That ended it. Believing nothing could be done, Dick and the professor finally returned to their waiting gondola, and gave the gondolier directions to take them back to their lodgings. The official entered his boat and was rowed away.

Zenas fussed and fumed, but it was useless. Dick took it more calmly.

But when they reached their own rooms an unpleasant surprise awaited them.

Teresa was gone.

Likewise Brad Buckhart!

CHAPTER XXI. – 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.