Third, and most important of all, based not at all upon revenge, but upon a desire for the good of all,—these were dangerous men. The man-killing tiger in his jungle is not more deadly. For this reason they must be speedily brought to justice.
Has anyone in all the world ever known better reasons for wishing to accomplish a given task than Johnny had as he entered upon this new field of endeavor?
CHAPTER XX
A CARD FROM THE UNDERWORLD
Long before Johnny and his companions were awake, newsboys were shouting:
“Extra! Extra! All about the radio studio murder!”
The newspapers, as is their custom, had exaggerated a little. Rosy had not been murdered. She was not dead. Yet, so slender was the thread that held her once abundant life to this earth of ours, it seemed that a breath of air, a thought, might snap it, as the lightest feather may snap the spider’s web.
Her mother, sad faced, patient, resigned to the many sorrows that fate, or what is worse than fate, crime, had bestowed upon her, sat at the girl’s side.
From time to time in her mind’s eye she saw the sunny hills of her native land, and seemed to catch the gleam of perpetual snows on the Italian Alps. This vision lasted but a moment. Yesterday, as she had talked with Rosy, it had seemed very near, very real indeed. But now it was far away.
“Rosy! My Rosy!” she murmured, as a stubborn tear splashed on her toil-worn hands.
Then, as if powerful hands suddenly seized her by the shoulder and stood her upon her feet, she rose from her chair. The tear was gone. Gone, too, was the expression of pain from her face. In its stead had come a look of sudden, stubborn resolve. Her eyes glistened like cold stars.