What thing was this from which Reggio fled like a hunted man? What peril pursued him, seen by him alone?
“Reggio!” spoke Dick.
“Silence! silence! silence!” implored the man at the oar.
“He sure has gone luny of a sudden!” whispered Brad. “There is no other explanation, pard.”
“I don’t like his behavior myself,” confessed the professor. “He’s getting me nervous. You know there are banded thieves in Venice, who prey on foreigners. Now——”
“There can be no connection between Reggio’s singular conduct and the thieves of Venice,” said Dick impatiently. “If he intended to rob us, he would not first excite our suspicion by his behavior.”
“I judge that’s correct,” nodded the Texan. “I certain allow it’s just a plain case of daffy on Reggio’s part.”
Once more they glided out upon the moon-lighted surface of the Grand Canal, and the professor drew a deep breath of relief.
“This is good enough for us, Reggio,” he said. “You don’t have to take us through those dark alleys to amuse us.”
But the man addressed did not seem to hear. He swung the craft into the shadow of the palaces at one side of the canal, still sending it forward with unusual speed. Other gondolas he avoided or passed with great skill. It was evident they attracted more or less attention by their surprising haste at that hour.