“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.