Riccio sighed, and walked after him. "You know, if Scipio doesn't take on Barbarossa's job," he lowered his voice, "then I'll do it. You heard what the baldhead said about the money. I'm not a bad thief -- just a bit out of practice. And I'd share the loot with everyone. Bo could get his Indians, Hornet could get some new books, and Mosca could get the paint for that boat he's been going on about so much. I'd get a little TV and you ..." He gave Prosper a curious look. "Actually, what would you want?"

"I don't need anything." Prosper hunched his shoulders as if a cold draft had gone down his neck. He looked around uneasily. "Just stop talking about stealing things. Have you forgotten how they nearly caught you last time?"

"Yes, yes," Riccio said angrily. He really didn't want to remember that. He gazed after a woman with huge pearl earrings.

Prosper added, "And you won't tell Scipio about this job, agreed?"

Riccio stopped. "Don't be an idiot! I don't understand what's the matter with you. Of course I'll tell him! How can this be more dangerous than breaking into the Doge's Palace?" A young couple holding hands suddenly turned around and Riccio quickly lowered his voice. "Or into the Palazzo Contarini!"

Prosper shook his head and walked on. He wasn't quite sure himself why he didn't like Barbarossa's offer. Lost in thought, he walked around two women who were arguing noisily in the middle of the street -- only to walk straight into a man who had just stepped out of a bar with a slice of pizza his hand. The man was small and stocky. A piece of cheese clung to his thick walrus mustache. He spun around angrily -- and then stared at Prosper as if he had seen a ghost.

Prosper muttered, "Scusi," and quickly pushed past the man and disappeared into the crowd.

"Hey, why are you running?" Riccio followed him awkwardly, nearly dropping the cake box.

Prosper looked around. "Someone just gave me a very weird look." He eyed the passing crowds uneasily. The man with the walrus mustache was nowhere to be seen.

"A weird look?" Riccio shrugged. "And? Did you recognize him?"

Prosper shook his head. He looked around once more. A couple of schoolchildren, an old man, three women with stuffed shopping bags, a group of nuns...suddenly he grabbed Riccio's arm and pulled him inside a doorway.

Riccio nearly dropped the cake box again. "What now?"

"That man's following us." Prosper started to run, keeping his hand firmly on Barbarossa's money so it wouldn't fall out of his pocket.

Riccio called after him, "What are you talking about?"

"He's after us!" Prosper gasped. "He was trying to hide, but I saw him."

Riccio looked around for their pursuer but all he could see were bored faces staring into shop windows and a bunch of giggling schoolchildren.

"Prop, this is really stupid!" He caught up with Prosper and blocked his path. "Calm down, OK? You're seeing things."

But Prosper didn't answer.

"Come on," he hissed. He dragged Riccio into an alley so narrow that Barbarossa would certainly have gotten stuck in it. The wind whistled past them. Riccio knew where this tiny passage led: into a labyrinth of alleys that could confuse even a Venetian. It wasn't a bad route if you wanted to lose someone. But Prosper had stopped again. He flattened himself against the wall and watched the people passing by the entrance to the passage.

"And what are you doing now?" Riccio leaned against the wall next to Prosper. He shivered and pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands.

"When he walks past, I'll point him out to you."

"And then?"

"If he sees us, we run."

"Great plan!" Riccio said sarcastically. He pushed his tongue nervously into the gap in his front teeth. He had lost that tooth during a chase.

"Let's just go now," he whispered to Prosper. "The others are waiting for us."

But Prosper didn't move.

The schoolchildren skipped past the alley. Then the nuns walked past. And then came the short and stocky man, with big feet and walrus mustache. He looked around, he stood on his toes, he craned his neck, and then he cursed.

The boys hardly dared to breathe. Finally, the man walked on.

Riccio was the first to move. "I know him!" he hissed quietly. "Let's get away from here before he comes back."

Prosper stumbled after him, his heart beating like mad. Soon he had completely lost his bearings, but Riccio kept running as if he knew the way through the maze of alleys and bridges by heart. Suddenly, they stumbled back into bright sunlight. Ahead of them lay the Grand Canal. Its banks were crowded with people and its glittering surface teemed with boats.

Riccio pulled Prosper toward a vaporetto stop. Soon they disappeared into the throng of people waiting for the next boat.

Prosper scrutinized every face passing by, but their pursuer wasn't among them. When the next vaporetto finally arrived, the boys smuggled themselves onto the boat with the crowd. While the other passengers scrambled after the few remaining free seats in the roofed section of the boat, Prosper and Riccio walked up to the deck rail and kept a close eye on the bank of the canal.

"We don't have a ticket," Prosper whispered when the fully loaded boat cast off.

"Doesn't matter," Riccio whispered back, "we're getting off at the next stop anyway. But look who's standing over there." He pointed toward the stop. "Do you see him?"

Oh yes, Prosper saw him quite clearly. There was the walrus mustache, squinting after the departing boat. Riccio gave him a hearty wave.

Prosper pulled Riccio's arm down. "What are you doing?"

"Why? You think he's going to swim after us? No, my friend. That's the good thing about this city. If someone is after you, all you have to do is cross the canal, and the other fool's had it! Even you should know by now that there are only two bridges across the Grand Canal!"

Prosper didn't reply. The stranger had long vanished out of sight but Prosper kept staring toward the bank just in case he suddenly appeared between the elegant columns of one of the palaces, or on a hotel balcony, or even on one of the oncoming boats. Prosper was worried.

"Stop looking like that. We've lost the snoop!" Riccio shook his friend by the shoulder until he turned back.

Prosper stared at Riccio anxiously. "So you know who he is?"

Riccio leaned against the rail. "Yeah -- he's a detective. He works for the tourists -- looking for lost handbags and wallets. He nearly caught me with one once." Riccio pulled his ear and grinned. "But, he's not very fast." He gave Prosper a curious look. "It did look, well, as if he was after you. What would a detective want with you? Is someone looking for you?"

Prosper gazed at the shore again. The vaporetto steered sluggishly toward the next stop. "There might be," he said, without looking at Riccio. A swarm of gulls took to the air with a great noise as the boat drifted toward the jetty.

"Let's get off here," Riccio said. They jumped off the boat while the new passengers were already pushing aboard.

"Hell! The others are probably thinking we've taken Scipio's loot and split," Riccio said as they turned their backs on the Grand Canal again. "Our little boat trip hasn't made our way back any shorter." He gave Prosper another quizzical look. "Do you feel like telling me who could have put that detective on your trail? What have you done? Did you steal something?"