Suddenly he was grasped by a strong hand and hastily thrust into a padded
dark box.
Poor Chico! His heart fluttered so that he couldn't think. Not but what he
was used to being handled, and perhaps his prison was a new kind of basket,
but even so he rebelled. There were no friendly cracks through which he
could catch an occasional glint of light, but only a few airholes clustered
at the top. Then, too, his quarters were so cramped that even the slightest
flutter was well-nigh impossible; and, after a few struggles, utterly
discouraged, and fearing the worst, he gave up and crouched down, entirely
at a loss as to what had happened.
The Austrian, angered at having been thwarted in every attempt he had made
to purchase the pigeon, had been watching the bird's habits ever since he
had followed the old caretaker, and had deliberately planned to capture him
in this way. His prize now secured, he made his way straight for a gondola
and gave orders to be rowed with the greatest possible speed to his
lodgings, and, on arriving, carried to his room the innocent-appearing
black box which resembled nothing so much as a folding kodak.
How satisfied he felt with himself, and how he gloated over the way in
which he had outwitted the old man! For a moment he held the box to his
ear, as if anxious to assure himself that the bird was still there. Not a
sound came from the trembling inmate. Had anything happened? Cautiously
unfastening the catch, he reached in his hand and touched the soft head.
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