considering whether he should give these orders out if any more men called. Taking the place of the Black Star did not include aiding in crimes, he told himself. He would issue orders of his own, orders that would keep the members of the band from their nefarious business, but at the same time would keep them in touch until he could arrange a wholesale capture.
Verbeck fumbled around the end of the table for several minutes before he found the spring which released the drawer and caused it to open. As he and Muggs had seen earlier in the night, there was an abundance of money in the drawer. There were half a score of diamond rings, too, a pearl necklace, other gems. There was a box of little rubber type and an ink pad and a small memoranda book.
Verbeck opened the book. On the last written page of it he found something that interested him. At the top was a date—that very day—and below was a list of numbers, with hours set opposite. The book told when members of the band were expected to report. Verbeck found that the first was Number Three, due at nine o’clock that night. And from then until two o’clock the next morning others were due at stated intervals. The entire band, it was evident, was to appear for orders within a few hours and comparison of the book with the printed orders gave Verbeck an inkling of the scheme.
The Black Star had, indeed, planned a staggering blow to the city’s pride; his band of crooks was to make a specialty of stealing jewels taken from safe-deposit boxes to be worn at the Charity Ball. For a few hours these valuable jewels would be protected only by ordinary safes in residences, and during those few hours the members of the Black Star’s band would strike.
Verbeck went in to see that the Black Star was as comfortable as he could be while bound and gagged, and then walked over to the window. The storm was dying down; the snow and sleet had almost ceased to fall, but the cold seemed to be increasing.
Returning to the furnished room, he sat down beside the table to wait. An hour from the time Muggs had departed the bell tinkled. Verbeck adjusted his mask and touched the button that opened the door. In a moment Muggs stood beside him.
“Here are the keys, boss,” he said. “I’ve got the car near the mouth of the alley, and the lights are out. We can take him along the hedge——”
“Good!” Verbeck interrupted.
They went inside and lifted the Black Star and carried him out. Verbeck took off mask and robe and put them on the table, and one by one blew out the candles. Then he closed the door and helped Muggs carry the Black Star through the musty hall. Another moment, and they were outside.
It was not particularly a difficult task to carry their man along the hedge and to the car, and there Verbeck put him in the back and got in beside him, while Muggs took the wheel. They made their way slowly up the hill and to a well-paved street, and there Muggs turned on the lights and the car rushed forward through the night.
The old Verbeck place was one of the city’s landmarks. It was closed now, and had been closed for the greater part of the past five years. It had been bequeathed Verbeck, the last of his family, by his father, and the young man had had no desire to repair it and live in it alone with a staff of servants. He preferred his apartment, and to live in it with no servant except Muggs.
But now, betrothed to wed Faustina Wendell, Verbeck was contemplating tearing down the old house and erecting a mansion in its place for his bride. The present house occupied the center of the block. It was surrounded by trees and tangled underbrush. The walks about it were in poor condition, and nobody ever approached it. It was to this place that he was taking the Black Star.
It was a long, cold ride. The Black Star groaned and threw his head from side to side, indicating that he wanted the gag removed, but Verbeck declined to accommodate him. He was taking no chances with the Black Star.
The machine lurched and skidded along the streets, dashed along boulevards, swung around corners. Muggs was putting on all possible speed, for the dawn was not far away.
The machine was finally brought to a standstill before the double gates that opened into the driveway of the old Verbeck place. Verbeck got out and helped Muggs throw open the gates, and they drove in.
There was fuel in the house, and after they had carried the Black Star in and made him comfortable on a couch Verbeck built a fire in the large grate in the living room. Then he removed the man’s gag, and all his bonds except those which held his hands fastened behind his back.
“There, Mr. Black Star!” he said. “It has been an exciting night. You sent a man to invade my apartment, and in turn I invaded your place of business—I suppose that is what you’d call it—and made you prisoner, with the aid of this very good friend of mine. And now you are here—and I’m quite sure you don’t know just where. And here you’ll remain for the time being, until I form some plans and put them in operation. You’ll be kept warm, and you’ll have food. Muggs will guard you. And you’ll be unable to escape.”
“All very clever,” the Black Star retorted. “But you are playing with fire, Mr. Verbeck, and are liable to be badly scorched.”
“I’ll run the risk of that.”
“Remember, I told you my organization has a long arm. I’m storing all this up against you.”
“Very kind of you, I’m sure.” He turned to Muggs. “How do you want to work this thing?” he asked.
“Just let him fuss around with his hands tied, boss,” Muggs said. “I’ll get a strap or some rope from the closet and tie ’em properly. And if he tries any funny tricks I’ll either shoot him or pound him on the head with the butt of the gun—’tis immaterial. You can leave it to me, boss.”
And Verbeck knew by the expression of Muggs’ face that he could.
CHAPTER VI—AN UNPROFITABLE AFTERNOON
Verbeck put his car in the garage, returned to his apartment and slept. He awakened at eleven o’clock, rushed through bath and breakfast, got the car out again, purchased groceries, and whirled away toward the old house.
There he found Muggs pacing back and forth, with the pistol in his hand, reading the Black Star a lecture on the evils of a nefarious existence. The Black Star looked disgusted.
“If you’re going to keep me prisoner,” he told Verbeck, “I’d be obliged if you’d give me another jailer.”
“What’s the matter with Muggs?”
“Barring the fact that he is insane, he may be all right. I don’t want to be talked to death.”
Verbeck gave him a grin for answer and unpacked the groceries. He had small time to spend here, and, taking Muggs into a corner, he bade him be sure to guard the prisoner carefully.
“You may not see me again until to-morrow morning, Muggs,” he said. “I’ll be busy this afternoon, and to-night I’m going to that house where the Black Star has his headquarters and start some plans going.”
“You’ll be careful, boss?”
“I’ll be careful, Muggs. When it comes time for sleep what are you going to do here?”
“Stay awake, I guess.”
“There
