From within the darkness of the alley there came a hoarse chuckle.
“So!” exclaimed a voice that would have been familiar to both lads could they have heard it. “So! You thought to recapture Count Blowinski, eh? You fools. You should have known I would be on my guard. Now what am I going to do with them? I would like to take them with me, but I can’t lug them both. I have it. I’ll take one, leaving the other here.”
The count stooped over the two forms which lay within a few feet of each other and lifted Jack in his arms. Then, paying no further heed to Frank, he moved toward the street.
At the mouth of the alley he hesitated for a moment. He gazed up and down the street, but saw no one. He moved on again, carrying his human burden.
Half a block from the dark alley, he mounted a pair of steps and opened a door. He glanced back over the street and saw a lone pedestrian hurrying along. Whether the man had seen him with his human burden, the count could not tell. He shrugged his shoulders and closed the door behind him.
“Well, I’ve got one of them here,” he said to himself. “The dog! Had it not been for him my plot would not have failed. He shall pay!”
The blow which had laid Frank low in the alley had not been as severe as the one Jack had received for the reason that when Frank tripped over his friend’s body, the blow had glanced off his head rather than crashing solidly upon it.
Therefore Count Blowinski, carrying Jack’s limp body, had hardly passed from the alley when Frank returned to consciousness. His first thought was of Jack and he called to him. Receiving no answer, and feeling certain that there was no longer any enemy in the alley, Frank drew a match from his pocket and struck it.
The flare showed the lad that except for himself there was no human being there.
“Great Scott! He must have carried Jack away!” the lad exclaimed. “Jack would never have gone without looking for me.”