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: