Black Star Comes Back/Part 4

HE letter of Mayor Redner was made public immediately by the newspapers, and the new threats of The Black Star left the public disposed to accede to his demands. Verbeck, wishing to keep secret for the time being the message he believed he had received, acted as though he had no choice but to concur in the wishes of the city.

Before evening the council had met in special session, and a huge committee was appointed to discuss the ransom, and, if it were deemed advisable, to make arrangements for collecting it. Verbeck knew that The Black Star would hear of this in some way, but he hoped that the master rogue would not guess that preparations were being made for a raid.

Meanwhile Roger Verbeck made those preparations in company with Captain Jones and Muggs, and did not take anybody else into his confidence. He did not even tell Captain Jones everything. He said merely that he had received information, that he thought reliable, concerning the location of the master rogue's headquarters, and that he wanted to conduct a secret raid.

Captain Jones asked for no more. He knew as well as Verbeck that there was great reason for secrecy. In the campaign against The Black Star the year before, many mistakes had been made, and once the master crook had escaped capture because the plans of the police had been known to a few outsiders.

At half past six o'clock Verbeck made ready to go to a café near police headquarters for dinner, hoping that The Black Star's spy, whom he felt sure was near, would report to his master that Verbeck evidently anticipated no more trouble and was idle while waiting for the committee to come to a decision.

He answered a telephone call and found The Black Star on the wire.

“Mr. Verbeck, I want to congratulate you on your good sense,” he said. “I am informed that a committee is being arranged, and that my demands probably will be met.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” Verbeck said. “I merely gave out the mayor's letter, and some of the leading citizens wished to form the committee at once.”

“I understand, Verbeck. You'd much rather fight me. And I'd rather have you, but you are fighting with an organization more imperfect than mine. The best police officials in the city, and the sheriff, are my prisoners.”

“Perhaps the fight is not at an end,” Verbeck said. “The committee might decide, you know, to fight rather than pay the ransom money you are demanding.”

“Then I shall be forced to shock the city again.”

“And, in the meantime?”

“I hold my hand until I see what is going to be done, as I promised to do. It will be a shame, in a way, for I have so many pretty plans I'd like to carry out.”

The Black Star's laugh came to Verbeck over the wire, a laugh that scarcely sounded human. Then the master rogue broke the connection.

The conversation had pleased Verbeck greatly. It told him that The Black Star had no inkling of his plans for the night. Suddenly he seemed to have hope that the message in the letter was correct, that the raid would be a success.

He hurried to the café and ate a quick dinner, and then went back to police headquarters. He issued the usual orders for the night and assigned detectives to investigate minor crimes as though The Black Star did not exist. The tension around police headquarters seemed to have relaxed.

At half past seven he called Captain Jones again.

“We'll need about six large police autos, captain,” he said. “Have three go to each spot where the reserves are to report. Let them leave a couple of minutes apart, to appear as though they were answering ordinary calls. Go in one of them yourself. I'll make the trip with Muggs in the roadster and meet you at the park.”

The captain left the office to carry out the orders. One by one the police automobiles were driven away. The captain went in the last one himself. And then Verbeck walked from the office and to the curb, got into the roadster, and told Muggs, in a voice loud enough for anybody close to overhear, to drive him to his club.

Five blocks down the street Muggs turned the machine off the main avenue, put on speed, and drove to a boulevard that stretched across the city to the big park at its edge.

Even if men of The Black Star were watching him, Verbeck thought, they would not take alarm at that. The park was on the side of the city back from the river. A man wishing to reach the river drive would hardly go toward the park.

Out on the boulevard, which was the city's speedway also, Muggs increased the speed of the powerful roadster, passing a couple of police machines without giving them any attention. They reached the northeast entrance, and there Muggs stopped. Twenty-five officers were there, the automobiles had arrived, and Captain Jones was just leaving to go to the other rendezvous to see whether al! the men had reported. Verbeck called him aside.

“Get your men into the machines, captain, and wait there for me,” he directed. “When I lead these machines past you, fall in behind. And tell the chauffeurs to keep the autos as close together as possible. I want to have them that way; do not want to have to wait when we arrive at our destination.”

The captain left, and Verbeck spoke to the police chauffeurs and gave them instructions. To the officers he explained merely that they were going to make a raid on a place believed to be The Black Star's headquarters. Then he sprang into the roadster again, took the wheel himself, and started.

The police machines fell in behind. They reached the other entrance of the park, and Captain Jones' automobiles joined the procession. Into the speedway they turned, and then Verbeck increased the speed of the roadster to the point where he felt sure all the others could follow without dropping behind.

Down through the residence portion of the city they swept, dodging the streets where traffic might be heavy. They came to the river drive and turned into it, sweeping along at a steady pace that ate up the miles.

Now they were within half a mile of the old Burton place, and at a spot where there happened to be no occupied buildings. Verbeck gave the signal and stopped all the cars at the side of the road. Captain Jones hurried forward.

“It is the old Burton place,” Verbeck said. “Know it?”

“I certainly do, Mr. Verbeck.”

“Good! Don't tell the men until we get there. And be sure that none of them dodges you. I hate to intimate that any man on the police force might be allied with The Black Star, but you remember what happened the last time.”

“I understand, Mr. Verbeck.”

“Take your men and circle to the south, and I'll take mine and circle to the north. We want to surround the house and outbuildings completely. We want to get The Black Star and any of his band who may be there, if it really is his headquarters, and we want to rescue the prisoners he is holding.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Tell your men to be very careful. There may be traps, tricks. And watch out for vapor bombs, such as he used before. There are more than fifty of us, and we should land him if he is here. Two hours ago, I honestly believe, he did not have an inkling of our intention.”

Jones hurried back to his own car and issued his orders in whispers. Verbeck started the roadster again, and the other machines followed. But Verbeck did not put on much speed this time. They were very near their destination. He was carefully watching the road ahead, and Muggs was flashing the search light into the brush beside it.

Again Verbeck gave the signal to stop. The machines drew up at the side of the road. All except the chauffeurs got out. The lights of the automobiles were extinguished. There were more whispered orders, both from Verbeck and Captain Jones. And then the officers crept through a break in a hedge and began slowly and silently to surround the old house.

“Are you there, Muggs?” Verbeck asked.

“You can't lose me, boss,” came the reply close at hand. “And don't forget, boss—I want a moment or two alone with this bird when we catch him!”

HROUGH the darkness of the night they crept, through a tangle of underbrush, trying to keep in touch with one another, trying to refrain from making the slightest noise.

It was a difficult task, this, but they took their time about it. Gradually they spread out and separated to surround the old mansion, completely.

Then they began to close in. They heard nothing, saw nothing. Not even a light gleamed in the old Burton place. Now and then a whispered command ran around the big circle, and gradually that circle narrowed until Verbeck ordered all to stop.

There followed a conference of short duration with Captain Jones, and then, while the men waited, Jones and Verbeck crept forward with Muggs and approached the house cautiously. They held automatics in their hands and were ready for fight.

Verbeck was not certain, of course. Perhaps there would be nobody here but a harmless old caretaker and his aged wife. But, perhaps, this indeed was the headquarters of The Black Star. If the raid were a failure Verbeck would be chagrined to a certain degree, but he had been unable to ignore that letter from Mayor Redner. To have done that and found out afterward that he had lost a chance, would have been a great deal worse than a raid that came to nothing.

They came to the house and walked around it slowly, keeping a short distance away. Now and then they stopped to listen, and once they heard voices and a burst of laughter.

“Chief Somerest!” the captain said. “I'd know that laugh of his anywhere, among a thousand others. Verbeck, you've got it. This is the place!”

“Let me at him!” Muggs whispered.

“Easy, Muggs!” Verbeck warned. “A little haste may wreck the whole thing, you know. What do you suggest, captain?”

“I'll have one of the men go to the front door and knock, just as though he were making a regular investigation.”

“Good enough! And we'll be a few feet to one side to watch what happens.”

The captain stepped back into the brush and got the nearest man and gave him his orders. Again they went forward through the darkness, and, while the captain, Verbeck, and Muggs got behind clumps of brush a few feet away, the officer stepped boldly up to the front door and knocked.

Nothing happened, and he knocked again. Then there was a gleam of light through the old-fashioned glass transom, and somebody inside spoke.

“Who's there?”

“The old caretaker,” Verbeck whispered to the captain.

“This is an officer,” the man at the door responded. “I want to ask you a few questions.”

There was silence for a moment, and then the door was opened a short way, held with a door chain. The old caretaker stood just inside holding a lamp in one hand.

“An officer?” he asked. “A policeman? Yes, I can see now that you are. I have to be careful about opening the door at night. I am an old man, and there are thieves about, and rough men off the river. And did you want to ask me something?”

“Have you seen any suspicious characters prowling around here?” asked the officer who had been coached by his captain.

“Not to speak of,” the caretaker said. “I see them almost every day, though. They come off the river, mostly—tramps and such.”

“Nobody special to-day—say a tall man in a light gray suit, with a dark cap?”

“Nobody like that, officer,” the caretaker replied.

Verbeck whispered to the captain, and he got up and hurried to the officer's side.

“Two of you? Two policemen?” the caretaker whispered in surprise.

“We are looking for river thieves,” the captain said. “So you have seen nobody?”

“Nobody like the officer described, sir.”

“Who lives here?” the captain demanded.

“I do, sir. I'm the caretaker for this place, and a lonesome job it is. But I can't do heavy work any more, and this gives a living for me and my old woman.”

“Your wife?”

“Yes, sir. We are all alone, sir.”

“No relatives or visitors?”

“Not a relative in the world, sir, and never a visitor,” the caretaker declared.

“Anybody in the house now except you and your wife?”

“Oh, no, sir!”

“But we thought we heard somebody laughing a few minutes ago,” the captain said.

“I was laughin' at a joke the old woman told, sir,” said the caretaker.

“It was too hearty a laugh for an old man like you,” the captain declared.

“I always laugh hearty, sir.”

“I think we'd better go in and look through the house. It's a big house, and maybe some of those river thieves are hiding in it, without you knowing it.”

“Oh, I looked all through the house a few minutes ago, sir. I always do that before goin' to bed. And we were just goin' to bed, sir. There's nobody here. You'll frighten the old woman.”

“Nonsense! Open the door and let us in. Take off that chain!” the captain commanded.

“Don't make me do that, sir. There is nobody here. You'll frighten the old woman and she'll have hysterics.”

“You're acting suspiciously,” captain said. “Open the door!”

“Have you got a search warrant, sir?” the caretaker asked.

“What do you know of search warrants, if you are as ignorant as you pretend. Open the door, and at once.”

“I don't want to do it, sir.”

“And no more argument.”

The captain took a quick step forward and braced his knee against the door, and the officer made ready to assist him. Roger Verbeck and Muggs remained crouched behind the clump of brush, ready to act instantly.

The man did not act the part of an honest caretaker now. He snarled and tried to close the door. He dodged behind it when he saw that the officer had a drawn revolver in his hand.

“No, you don't!” he shrieked. “You don't get in here unless you've got a search warrant. I'm standin' on my rights.”

There was a sudden commotion in the brush at the side of the house near the driveway. One of The Black Star's men, coming in from the road and going to headquarters to report, had stumbled against a policeman. He shrieked an alarm and struggled to get away. From inside the house came an answer that was not in the voice of the caretaker. That answer settled things in Roger Verbeck's mind; he knew the voice was that of The Black Star.

Verbeck sprang to his feet, Muggs beside him.

“In with you, men!” he cried. “In, captain! This is the place!”

The cordon of police rushed toward the building. The caretaker managed to slam the door and shoot the bolt. The gleam of light disappeared.

And now began a battle to get inside the house. Doors and windows were attacked. From inside came a sound of a turmoil, and at first there was no show of resistance. Doors and windows crashed in, and the police rushed into the old mansion with Verbeck's warnings ringing in their ears.

But there was resistance now. It seemed that they had charged into a chamber filled with gas. There was no light at all, only heavy clouds of pungent vapor that struck into lungs and rendered men unconscious, They staggered back to the doors and windows to breathe. Some of them fell senseless. Verbeck and Muggs, who had become separated from Captain Jones, remained near one of the windows trying not to inhale the vapor.

“It will clear in a moment,” Verbeck called. “Flash your torches! Let's see what we are doing!”

On every side the electric torches flashed, revealing clouds of grayish vapor rolling toward doors and windows, men staggering through them. And they revealed nothing else except a couple of poorly-furnished rooms.

The old caretaker was not there, or his wife, or The Black Star.

clouds of vapor cleared away rapidly, and the police went ahead with their work, though their eyes were smarting and their throats burned, and some had been rendered unconscious.

“Hunt them out!” Verbeck had commanded. “We know they are here, somewhere. Watch out for traps!”

Now they charged through the rooms of the lower floor, rushed up the stairs and searched through the rooms there, and found nothing except dust-covered furniture and dirty walls and bare floors.

“They are here!” Verbeck declared again. “We heard Chief Somerset laugh, and I recognized The Black Star's voice. Rescue your chief, you men!”

That appealed to the policemen. Chief Somerset was a superior officer whom they admired for his wisdom and justice. And the thought that The Black Star was somewhere near, and that his capture would mean an end to the reign of terror, spurred them on.

It remained for Muggs to solve the mystery. He did it by stumbling over a trap door in a storeroom behind the kitchen.

“Look here, boss!” he cried. “There's light down there!”

Verbeck and half a dozen policemen rushed to his side. At one side of the tarp door was a tiny crack, and light was streaming through it. They attacked the door in a frenzy, and found that it was fastened below.

One of the men found a hatchet in the kitchen and began slashing at the door. Slowly they cut their way through. Below them was a short stairway with a closed door at the end.

They tore the door aside and rushed down the stairs. They smashed in the door and sprawled into the room, weapons held ready for instant use. The room was empty of human beings, but they did not doubt that they had located The Black Star's headquarters at last. They guessed as much from the way the room was furnished.

And now they smashed their way into other rooms constructed beneath the ground, with the entrance through the old cellar of the house. Even as they searched Roger Verbeck found himself wondering at the huge amount of work it all represented. But when he remembered that The Black Star had had a year in which to work, and plenty of men to help him, he wondered no longer.

In one room they cornered two men and took them prisoners. On they rushed, and burst into another room. And there, crouched against a wall, a frightened look in her face, was The Princess.

Verbeck shrieked to two of the officers to watch her. He felt that he was hot on the trail of The Black Star now. Surely, he thought, there must be at least one other room. For, where were the prisoners? Had The Black Star had time to get them away? Would he have done that, and yet fail to rescue The Princess?

They searched frantically, but could find no other door. They kept quiet and listened, but could hear no sound. The two men and The Princess seemed to be the sum total of the raid, except that The Black Star's headquarters had been discovered, and now he could use them no more.

Verbeck searched The Black Star's private room, but found few papers, and those, he could tell at a glance, were of little value, except possibly a few in code. If the code could be deciphered, perhaps they could learn something.

He called the captain, and had The Princess brought into the private room. The door was closed, only Captain Jones remaining. The Princess was frightened, and it was the first time Verbeck had ever seen her so. Even the year before, when she had been captured and held for a time, she had not been frightened.

“Sit down!” he commanded, and she sat down, holding her trembling hands before her face. Verbeck waited a moment, and then continued: “Well, we have you again, young woman. You managed to get away with Sheriff Grogin, but that fifteen years in prison, of which he spoke, seems a great deal nearer to you now, doesn't it?”

“Don't,” she whispered. “Don't!”

“It is the usual thing for a criminal to profess remorse when caught,” Verbeck said. “How does it happen that we captured you? Were you abandoned?”

“No, not that! Never that! He wouldn't do it. I—I am his sister.”

“Yet you are here, and he is gone.”

“He did not know that I was here. He thought that I had left the place earlier in the evening. I had intended to do so. But I was asleep, did not wake up”

“And were caught!”

“He—he must not have expected this attack, and I suppose he got away as quickly as he could. Oh, I had been fearing this! Something seemed to say to me that his plans were going wrong!”

“Talk—it will do you good,” Verbeck urged.

“What else is there to say? He got away, and you have me.”

“How did he get away?” Verbeck demanded.

“He had a way arranged,” The Princess replied. She was regaining her composure, now.

“Suppose you show us.”

“No! I'd not betray him.”

“If he has escaped, why not show us how he did it? He never will use the same method again, you may be sure.”

“I—I'll say nothing more!” she declared.

“Perhaps the two men whom we caught will be more obliging,” Verbeck suggested.

“I do not think that they know.”

“So he planned to escape himself but did not take the members of his band into his confidence, eh?”

“He had to be very careful.”

“Had some people he couldn't trust entirely, did he? I am rather surprised at that,” Verbeck said. “Don't you think you had better talk more? Where are the prisoners?”

“I never have seen them.”

“But you know where they are, don't you?”

“I know where he planned to put them. Perhaps he had time to get them away.”

“I scarcely think so,” said Verbeck. “Suppose you show us where he planned to keep them.”

“And why should I?” she demanded suddenly. “Why should I do that, when you are about to take me to jail. Perhaps I can bargain with you. Did you stop to think of that? Perhaps I know where they are, helpless, without food or water unless they are rescued soon. And as I say, I will keep silent unless you do something for me.”

“What do you wish?”

“Let me go,” she said. “Let me go, and I'll tell you where he kept the prisoners, show you”

“I scarcely think I can do that.”

“Then let them die of hunger and thirst—your mayor, and your chief of police, and your sheriff and the others. For you may be sure that The Black Star will not come back and run his head into a noose just to release them. And so, if I do not tell, what will happen?”

“You could not be so heartless!” Verbeck told her.

“Why not? You have me—you want to send me to prison for fifteen or twenty years.”

“For the offenses you have committed against the established laws of society,” Verbeck said. “That is only justice.”

“I have nothing more to say,” she declared.

“Very well. Captain, hand her over to a couple of your men and tell them to guard her, and then bring in one of those Black Star men we captured.”

The Princess was herself again. Verbeck knew that she had lost her poise for a time and had been frightened because she had been awakened from a sound sleep to find the police battering at the house. He did not doubt that she would refuse to speak unless she could dictate terms.

But they could make terms with her as a last resort, he judged. He would not do it while there was a possibility of learning what he wished to know, in some other manner. Yet the picture she had painted troubled him—the picture of the prisoners dying of starvation and thirst, abandoned by friend and foe alike.

Captain Jones returned with one of the male prisoners. Verbeck looked at him sharply. The man was of medium age, slight of stature, and badly frightened, though attempting to assume an air of bravado.

“So we have you,” Verbeck said.

“You have now, but you won't for long,” the man replied. “The Black Star will get me out of this, I guess.”

“It appears to me that he ran away and left you in it a short time ago,” Verbeck told him. “He had a secret way of getting out, but he didn't tell you, did he?”

“If I thought that” the man began, and then caught himself.

“Whether you choose to think it or not, it is the truth,” Verbeck told, him. “He made his escape and left you and a couple of others to be caught and sent up for twenty years or so. You have no chance at all. Not only were you here, but you had on robes and hoods. And I'll bet you have a record!”

The man sitting before him licked at his lips and glanced away, and Verbeck knew that he had guessed correctly.

“How much do you know about this place?” Verbeck demanded.

“Maybe a whole lot, and maybe nothing.”

“It may pay you to know a whole lot.”

“What do you mean by that?” the prisoner asked.

“If you know a whole lot, and will answer questions in a civil manner, you may find that your sentence will be shortened.”

“How do I know you're talkin' straight?”

“You'll have to take my word for it. But I am talking straight,” Verbeck told him.

“Well, what do you want to know?” the prisoner asked.

“Are there any rooms here other than those we have found?”

“Maybe.”

“If you are not inclined to answer, say so, and we'll put a stop to this conversation.”

“Well—I guess you haven't seen them all.”

“What have we missed?” Verbeck asked,

“A long hallway and a big room at the end of it.”

“What is in the big room?”

“What you are anxious to find, I guess. The prisoners, unless the Black Star croaked them.”

“Show it to us,” Verbeck commanded.

“I didn't say I would.”

“If that room is here, we'll find it sooner or later. You can help yourself by telling us and saving our time.”

The man seemed to hesitate. He looked away, and licked at his lips again. His face was white. He was looking into the future and seeing a row of years to be spent behind prison walls. And he seemed to have lost what faith he had in The Black Star. Perhaps he sensed that the master crook would not be able to help him.

“I—I don't like to do this,” he said. “He might kill me if he found out that I told.”

“I think we can protect you.”

“You'll help me if I tell—get my sentence cut down?”

“Yes. I'll inform the court that you helped us, and I know the court will take that into consideration. I can't promise anything definite, of course, but you know what generally happens in such a case, don't you?”

“I know, boss. I—I'll show you!”

He stumbled to his feet, and Captain Jones moved quickly to his side, fearing an attempt at escape. But the prisoner seemed to have lost all hope of that. He walked across to one of the walls and pointed to it.

“See that little spot there?” he asked. “You just press that, and a little section of the wall falls back. The regular old panel stuff, only this is hidden pretty good. Then you can go right into a narrow hall, and at the end of it is a door, bolted on this side. Beyond the door is a big room, and that is where The Black Star had the prisoners. I don't know whether they are still there. And don't you forget your promise to help me, boss.”

“I'll not,” Verbeck said. “This spot, you say?”

“The little red one that looks like it was in the wall paper, boss. It's a fake—that spot. See?”

Verbeck could see now. Viewed a couple of feet away that spot looked like a part of the wallpaper pattern, but close up it revealed itself as a tiny button.

He glanced at the prisoner again. He had stepped back against the wall and was the picture of despair. He seemed to have lost all interest in life.

Roger Verbeck stepped forward, reached out, and pressed the little button.

The next instant several things happened, things of an unexpected nature.

The floor beneath the feet of Roger Verbeck and Captain Jones gave way, and they shot down into a pit. And the prisoner, his dejection seemingly at an end, laughed suddenly and sprang back from the edge of the opening in the floor. He touched another little button, and the trap through which Verbeck and the captain had fallen was closed.

And then the prisoner darted across the room to the door through which he had been brought in, and locked it.

as he touched the button Roger Verbeck realized that he had walked into one of The Black Star's traps, and that the prisoner had merely been “playing” him until he and the captain were in the proper position to work their own downfall.

Down he dropped, but not into an ordinary square pit like that into which he had dropped with Muggs, before. He seemed to be in a sort of chute, with the captain on top of him, and along this cute [sic] they slid through the darkness, the dust, and the heat for a distance of twenty feet or more.

And finally they came to a jarring stop, gasping, feeling of their bruises, the captain muttering imprecations, and Verbeck saying nothing at all.

“He made asses of us!” the captain said finally. “Made asses of us, he did!”

“Of me, let us say,” Roger Verbeck corrected. “I should have known enough to watch for something of the kind, since I have campaigned against The Black Star before.”

“That fellow fooled me, all right. I thought he was ready to tell us everything. Where are we, Verbeck?”

“In one of The Black Star's traps, you may be sure,” Verbeck replied. “And what will happen to us now is more than I can guess.”

Verbeck took out his electric torch and flashed it. They found that they were in a little room, not more than ten feet square, another of the underground rooms, they supposed. There was a table in it and a couple of cheap chairs. There seemed to be some sort of ventilation, for the air was not bad, though hot.

The captain got out his flash light, too, and they searched around the room. If there was a door, they were unable to find it. There seemed to be neither entrance nor exit except the chute through which they had fallen.

“And here we are, and here we remain, I suppose, to await developments,” Verbeck said. “How far did we fall, do you think?”

“Twenty or twenty-five feet, I should judge.”

“Then we should be able to climb back up that chute, shouldn't we?” the captain asked.

“We can climb up until we come to the trap door, I suppose,” Verbeck replied. “And there we'll probably stop. The Black Star has a habit of building his traps well.”

“Confound it, we can't stay here like this!” the captain declared. “Let's try to do something.”

“What have you to suggest?” Verbeck asked.

“I'm going to crawl up that chute as far as the trap door, and see what happens, if anything,” the captain declared. “That'll be better than sitting around here.”

He went across the room to the chute through which they had dropped, flashed his electric torch into the mouth of it, and gave an expressive grunt of disgust.

“What is it?' Roger Verbeck asked.

“Look!” Captain Jones exclaimed. “We can't even crawl back up the chute.”

Verbeck flashed his own electric torch and looked. He, too, gave a grunt of disgust. Across the chute, a few feet from the entrance to the room, was a network of steel. A glance told them that it had dropped into place as they had fallen, and that it was a part of the trap. They could not even crawl up the chute to the door above. They were trapped in the little room until such time as somebody saw fit to release them.

Roger Verbeck did not relish the situation, did not like the look of things. Suppose the man who had been their prisoner simply forgot them through motives of self-protection or revenge? Were they to die of hunger and thirst in such a trap, shut up in a tiny room underground?

In the room above the man who had been their prisoner stood silent for a time after the trap had been closed, listening to the talk of the men in the hall outside. He did not expect to be interrupted for some little time. Those outside in the hall supposed that he was being questioned by Verbeck and the captain, and they would not interfere.

He stripped off his black robe and tossed it into a corner of the room. Then he searched through the drawers of The Black Star's desk as though looking for money or jewels, and growled when he found none. And then he hurried across the room and pressed a little button that really did cause a door to open.

Out into a narrow, dark hallway he went, and through it to the end. There before him was a small window, but large enough to allow a man to crawl through it. The erstwhile prisoner opened the window cautiously, an inch at a time, careful to make no noise. Outside was the black night.

Escape was the thing uppermost in his mind now. He crawled through the window and crouched in the darkness against the side of the house. For a time he waited, listening intently, knowing that he had foes all around the place, and trying to locate those nearest him, so he could evade them.

Then he moved from the building, walking slowly, bent forward, realizing that a slight mistake would mean the difference between freedom and incarceration for years behind the stone walls of some prison. And suddenly a form rushed out of the darkness and upon him, he heard a shrill whistle, and it flashed through his mind that some officer had been watching him since he had crawled through the window.

He fought like a cornered rat, but his fighting was useless. He was in the grip of his physical superior. Other policemen came running, and electric torches were flashed. The Black Star's man was subdued and taken around to the front of the house, down the stairs, and to a lieutenant there.

“We caught this man outside, lieutenant,” one of the officers reported. “He came from the house—crawled through a little window at the back.”

“Why, this is the man we had before, except that he has shed his black robe,” the lieutenant said. “He was in that room talking to Mr. Verbeck and the captain.”

“And now he's here!” Muggs added.

Muggs did not hesitate, then. Something had happened to Verbeck and the captain, else this man would not be here, Muggs thought. He rushed to the door of the room and found that it had been locked on the inside. He hurled himself against it, but the door was strong and held.

And now the lieutenant seemed aroused, too, seemed to realize that something must have happened. He called to some of his men, and they attacked the door furiously. It crashed in, and they sprawled into the Black Star's private office.

The office was empty, of course, as far as Verbeck and Captain Jones were concerned.

“What did you do with them?” the lieutenant demanded, standing before the prisoner.

“I'm not talkin',” the man replied.

“You'd better talk! You were in here with them, alone with them. If you have played one of your tricks again”

“If I have, what are you going to do about it?” the prisoner wanted to know.

The lieutenant grasped him by an arm. “You'd better talk, and make it quick,” he said.

“And perhaps you'd better take it a little easy,” the prisoner replied. “I attended to Verbeck and your captain. I am the only man who knows were they are. And if I choose they'll stay there and die of starvation. Now suppose we sit down and make a little deal.”

“A deal with a crook like you?” the lieutenant said. “You may have done something with them, but they are in the house somewhere, and we can find them.”

He issued orders for a search and it began, led by a frantic Muggs who feared for Roger Verbeck's safety. The search resulted in nothing. The lieutenant faced the prisoner again.

“Going to tell what you know?” he demanded.

“I'd be a fool to do that, wouldn't I? But I may make a little deal.”

“What sort of a deal?”

“You let The Princess go, give her time to get away safely, and then I'll show you where to find Verbeck and your captain. Otherwise, I'll keep quiet—and I'd like to see any of you find them. And they'll be gettin' hungry and thirsty pretty quick, you know.”

The prisoner had made the mistake of picturing the horrors through which Jones and Verbeck might be forced to go. It struck terror to the heart of Muggs. He saw his beloved Roger Verbeck dying in agony in some trap, gasping for breath, longing for a drink of water, for a morsel of food.

There came a sudden roar from Muggs, and he hurled the lieutenant aside and sprang at the prisoner's throat. He forced his man to his knees and began choking him.

“I'll make you talk. Do away with my boss, would you? I'll choke the truth out of you, you crook!”

The lieutenant looked at them and then turned his back. He saw that Muggs was infuriateed [sic], and he thought that perhaps violence would accomplish the object he desired.

And Muggs did not delay an instant. He maintained a stream of talk, but he kept in action at the same time. He beat his man down to the floor, jerked him up and beat him down again. He rained cruel blows upon him, kicked at him, choked him. He had the prisoner soon crying for mercy.

“Goin' to talk now?” Muggs demanded. “Goin' to show us where they are?”

Again he began the punishment, until the prisoner whimpered.

“I—I'll tell,” he gasped. “I'll show you!”

Muggs yanked the man to his feet, grasped him cruelly by the arm, forced him back against the wall.

“Quick about it!” he cried. “Want me to handle you some more?”

“No—no! I'll tell!”

“Open your mouth and talk, then!” Muggs ordered.

The prisoner gasped for breath, tried to stand erect, and then stumbled to the wall and the little button there. He motioned for the lieutenant and the others to stand back. He touched the button, and the trap flew open, and the network of steel below it disappeared.

“They're down there!” the prisoner gasped.

Muggs rushed to the edge of the trap.

“Boss!” he called.

“That you, Muggs?” came a weak voice from below.

“It's Muggs, boss. Can you get up? Want me to come down and help you?”

“Keep the trap open, Muggs, and I think that we can get up all right,” Verbeck replied.

“I'll keep the trap open, all right, if I have to prop it open with this crook's body,” Mr. Muggs replied.

Down in the chute an electric torch flashed. Those above could hear a man climbing, grunting because of the exertion. And then Roger Verbeck came into view, with Captain Jones close behind him, and the two were helped out and into the room.

ITHIN a very few minutes, Verbeck ascertained just what had occurred, and a single glance was enough thanks for Muggs.

“But we haven't found the other prisoners,” Verbeck said. “And we must do that right away. They may be in danger. We heard Chief Somerset laugh before we broke into the house, but we haven't heard a sound since.”

“Boss, does this bird know where they are?” Muggs aksed [sic].

“I believe that he does, Muggs.”

“Then,” said Mr. Muggs, “suppose you let me get the information out of the gent. When it comes to gettin' information out of him, I'm the boy to do it. Just turn your back a minute, boss, and I'll extract said information.”

Verbeck grinned and turned his back, and Muggs reached the side of the prisoner in a couple of quick strides. The man cringed against the wall, having had quite enough.

“You know where the big crook keeps them prisoners?” Muggs demanded, his lower jaw shot out, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “If you do, take a little advice from me and make talk quick. I'm needin' some more exercise, and I don't know a better place to get it.”

The man against the wall had a moment of bravado and snarled. The snarl was all that Muggs needed. He launched himself forward again and hurled the man to his knees, and grasped him by the throat. But all fight was gone out of the prisoner. Muggs had thrown more terror into him than could the thought of years in prison. He indicated that he wished to speak.

“What do I get if I show you?” he asked.

“It's what you'll get if you don't,” Muggs replied.

“I—I ought to get somethin' for showin' you.”

“We'll talk about that later,” Muggs said.

Verbeck and the captain refused to interfere. They did not care to parley with the prisoner after his treachery. Muggs made a motion as though he intended to attack again, and once more the man cringed against the wall.

“I'll show you,” he gasped.

With Muggs gripping one of his arms, and an officer a step behind him with a revolver held ready, the prisoner led them into the narrow, dark hallway and along it. In a certain place he pressed another button, and a panel slid back, and before them was a heavy door, bolted and barred.

“In there,” the man said.

“Are you tryin' to play another trick?” Muggs demanded. “If you do, you crook, it'll be the last trick you'll ever play. I'm about fed up with you, you know. One more little false move, you highbinder, and you'll never come to trial!”

“I—I'll open it myself,” the prisoner gasped.

He unfastened the bolts and let down the bars and threw the door open. They rushed into the big room. And there they found the prisoners, the most of them just recovering from the vapor poured into the room by The Black Star when the assault on the house had begun.

The room was almost cleared of vapor now. One by one the prisoners recovered. There was a moment of illness, and then they began a bable [sic] of talk.

Sheriff Grogin, Wilkinsen, and the two captains in the cells howled for release. As soon as they understood what had taken place, they were eager to be out, to join in the chase of the master crook. But getting them out was no easy job. Men were sent back to police headquarters for keys and tools.

Verbeck, Chief Somerset and the mayor held a conference then and there. A guard was left around the old house, and the others went back to the drive and got into the automobiles, and drove back to the city. And through the city flashed the news—Roger Verbeck had found the headquarters of The Black Star and had released the master rogue's prisoners. The Princess and two of The Black Star's men had been captured. But the master crook himself had escaped with the others who had happened to be in the headquarters at the time.

There was a moment of joy because the prisoners had been released, and none had come to harm. And then came the afterthought that The Black Star was still at large and could continue his campaign. The discovery of his headquarters meant nothing more than that he had been compelled to move to another, and in his other campaign The Black Star had had more headquarters than one, and had been ready to move at a moment's notice.

And his organization, the public supposed, had scarcely been disturbed. The Princess had been captured, and a couple of men, but that was not enough to wreck the master rogue's plans. He would be heard from again, and soon, the people thought.

But the Black Star communicated with nobody that night. At police headquarters, plans were made to continue the warfare against him. The mayor was determined, now, to have the master crook behind bars and his organization completely destroyed.

Chief Somerset stepped into his old position, Sheriff Grogin prepared to join in the fight, and Roger Verbeck remained close beside the chief, to be present if a chance came to take the trail again. As for Muggs, he was eager for another fight of any sort whatever, so long as it was against The Black Star and his band.

The following morning Chief Somerset got a call on the telephone, and The Black Star's voice came to him over the wire when he replied.

“Good morning, chief. I congratulate you on your escape,” the master crook said. “Tell Roger Verbeck I congratualte [sic] him, too, on giving me a moment of fright.”

“That's one we put over on you, you crook,” the chief said.

“I have not discovered yet just how you did it.”

“That letter you sent out to Verbeck had a hidden message in it,” the chief gloated.

“Well, you did nothing more than cause me a trifle of annoyance. You released my prisoners, of course. But there are other ways to make the city pay me the million.”

“You'll have a hard time collecting it,” the chief told him. “We've got you on the run now, you crook.”

“Because you have arrested three of my band?” The Black Star asked laughing over the wire. “Because you forced me to desert one headquarters and take to another? I think you will find, chief, that I am still master of the situation.”

“I can't see it.”

“You'll be enlightened soon, my dear chief. And now I have a few orders to give you.”

“You give me orders, you crook?”

“Exactly and precisely, my dear chief. You caught The Princess, of course. And you are to let her go immediately, give her every chance to leave the city and go into hiding.”

“Oh, certainly,” the chief sneered. “Any other little requests you'd like to make?”

“That will be enough for the present.”

“I am afraid that The Princess must remain in jail,” the chief said. “I'm not in the habit of ordering the release of a prisoner over whose head hangs an old indictment and a score or more new charges. The grand jury will be considering her case within twenty-four hours.”

“That is your final answer?”

“It is,” Chief Somerset said.

“I'll reply to that through the newspapers,” The Black Star declared, “and we'll see what the public has to say about it. And you'd better tell the citizens' committee to go ahead raising that million, for they'll be eager to pay it to me before many days have passed.”

“When you have lost your prisoners? Who is to be ransomed?”

“We'll not call it ransom money now, since my prisoners are gone, but damages, let us say.”

“You've got a fine chance of getting a cent!”

“Wait until you see the letter I am preparing for the newspapers, chief, and you may change your mind. I had an entire year to prepare for this, please remember, and I have more than one card left to play.”

“You'll need a whole deck,” the chief said.

The Black Star broke the connection without making a reply to that, and the chief told Verbeck and some of the others of the conversation. They did not feel at all enthusiastic. That The Black Star would commit some new atrocity, they did not doubt. And when he did make a new move, they wanted to be ready to take the trail.

They waited in anxiety, too, for the newspapers to come out with The Black Star's latest letter. The first paper to receive it sent a copy to the chief, and in his private office he and Verbeck and two of the captains looked it over. It read:

“Well, it is short enough,” the chief said.

“And to the point,” added Captain Wilkinsen. “And the fiend will do as he says, I suppose.”

“And we'll have him fighting out in the open, at least,” put in Roger Verbeck. “When he and his band are working like that, there is always a chance of getting on a hot trail.”

“We're going after him hot,” declared the chief. “I'm issuing orders for the men to be as rough as they please. This pest must be exterminated. The town never can feel safe until he is. Even if he were to win out and get his million, do you suppose he'd leave the city alone thereafter? I'd not trust him to do it. As soon as he needed more money, or wanted a little excitement, he'd be at work again. And it would be easy for him to start, unless his band were scattered. The best way to scatter them is in cells at the big prison up the river.”

“I agree with you,” Verbeck said.

“And what will he do next?” Wilkinsen asked. “That is the question.”

“One not easy to answer,” the chief observed. “There are many things he might do. He will try to terrorize the city, of course, and frighten the people until they make up that million. That will be his object. And it must be ours to get him before he can frighten the people badly.”

“Suppose he'll try to rescue The Princess?” Wilkinsen asked.

“I'd not be surprised,” said Verbeck.

“He'll have a job doing that,” the chief declared. “I have turned her over to Grogin, and she is in the county jail. And you make a little bet that she is well guarded. A rush trial for The Princess on the old indictment hanging over her will settle her case.”

“They can't rush it too much,” said Wilkinsen. “I'll feel better when she is in State's prison, where it'll take quite a few men to get her out.”

“If we only could guess what the fiend will do first!” the chief exclaimed.

“If we could do that, we'd be ready for him,” said Verbeck. “It is my opinion that he will not inform us, however. The Black Star, it stands to reason, is a trifle wary now, after the loss of his prisoners and the raid on his headquarters. We can do nothing but wait until he sees fit to strike.”

HERIFF GROGIN was like a bear with a sore paw. Since getting back to his office, he had read what the newspapers, particularly those opposed to the political party he represented, had to say about his abduction.

According to the opposition papers, Sheriff Grogin was in his dotage, and always had been a man of little brains. To allow himself to be stolen from his own office, with half a score of deputies within easy reach was absurd, the paper said.

But now Grogin was back in his office and The Princess was in his charge. Grogin had seen her locked in a cell and had urged the matron to place a strong guard over her. To see The Princess tried and sentenced would be some salve for his wounded feelings.

He, too, had been notified of The Black Star's last letter, and he had his entire force of deputies ready to aid the police the moment the master crook struck. Like the chief of police the sheriff could not decide where The Black Star would strike. There were a thousand ways in which he could try to terrorize the city and force the payment of the sum he was demanding.

He remembered, too, how The Black Star had stood up to him as man to man and had defeated him in a fair fight. The sheriff admitted that it had been a fair fight, but that did not cause him to forget that he wanted revenge on the master rogue for the blow which had sent him crashing to the floor.

Evening came, darkness fell, and throughout the city there was a nervous tension. The police waited for an alarm, the sheriff's force was ready, the fire department, fearing another conflagration, was prepared for a hard battle.

Across the street from the county jail, where The Princess was confined, was a small hall in which a minor mass meeting was being held to talk over The Black Star's case. It was not unnatural, then, that no attention was paid to the crowd of men that gathered. The police, understanding the nature of the meeting, merely observed the arrivals and then went about their business.

Now and then a man detached himself from the crowd before the entrance to the hall, as though he had decided that he did not care to attend the meeting. These men wandered around the block through the crowded streets, and finally slipped into the mouth of a dark alley that ran in the rear of the county jail.

A patrolman or two, going through that alley to reach the other street, found themselves assailed and put out of the fight immediately. Two sheriff's deputies, placed in the rear of the jail as an extra precaution, were cared for in a similar manner.

At the proper hour a woman was taken into custody in front of the jail by a deputy sheriff. She was acting in a peculiar manner—a middle-aged woman dressed in poor clothing, behaving as though she were demended [sic].

The arresting deputy conducted her to the jail and turned her over to the matron, to be confined in a cell until a physician could make an examination. The matron was called to the lower floor to take charge of the prisoner.

A signal flashed around the block, unseen save by the men supposed to observe it. In the alley two men raised a window in the basement of the jail, passed through an empty storeroom, came to a rear winding stairs that was used to conduct prisoners to a court room, unlocked the metal door at the bottom and went up the stairs quickly. Their shoes had been muffled, and they made no noise.

They came to the third floor of the jail where the women's quarters were located. There they unlocked another metal door and opened it a crack, peered out, and then slipped into a corridor. It was apparent that each man had his orders and knew exactly what to do.

The matron got out of the elevator with her prisoner and an assistant. Vapor pistols were discharged as the three turned a corner of the corridor after the elevator had descended. The matron and her assistant were rendered unconscious; the woman prisoner quickly took a sponge from her pocket and held it to her nostrils.

And now the men who had invaded the jail acted quickly. They took the matron's keys, hurried to the cells, and sought the one in which The Princess was confined. They threatened the other prisoners, promising dire things if they gave the alarm.

The Princess was released and hurried through the corridor toward the stairs. The men followed, closing and locking the door after them. Down the stairs they hurried, and through the basement storeroom to the window that opened on the alley.

Another signal was flashed at that instant, and a wagon drove into the alley from the street. It had the appearance of an ordinary trash wagon used by the city's sanitary department. In the darkness the wagon stopped for an instant. The Princess quickly slipped into a small space beneath a pile of trash and the wagon drove on. The men darted to the other end of the alley and left it as quickly as possible, one at a time so as to escape detection.

Back in the county jail there was a sudden turmoil as some of the bolder of the female prisoners, hoping for leniency from the court if they gave the alarm, shouted and shrieked that a prisoner was being rescued from the jail.

The matron and her assistant were still unconscious, but the elevator boy, bringing in the doctor, heard the noise and sent an alarm to the floors below. Sheriff Grogin and his deputies ascended as quickly as possible.

They found the matron and her assistant unconscious. They found the prisoners shouting and screeching the news. And they found The Princess gone!

“He's rescued her already!” the sheriff raved. “This will be the death of me! He's taken her out of the jail right under our noses!”

The trash wagon, innocent in appearance, had crossed the street and gone into another alley. There in the darkness a closed automobile was waiting. The Princess transferred from the wagon to the automobile, and it drove out to the street and darted up the avenue. The trash wagon went about its business of collecting trash, for it was a real trash wagon with the exception of the fact that its driver belonged to The Black Star's band.

Through the city flashed news of what had been done, and the papers came out with extras telling the public of the affair. It served to start the campaign of terror anew. If The Black Star could rescue a woman from the county jail, what might he not do?

What he might do was the chief anxiety of Chief Somerset, Verbeck, and others at police headquarters.

“That ass of a Grogin!” the chief exclaimed. “Can't he hang on to a prisoner a few minutes when he gets one? I'm sorry now that I didn't keep her in the detention jail, but I thought the county jail would be safer. Safer!”

Nine o'clock came and nothing more had been heard from The Black Star. At police headquarters reserves were held ready. Verbeck and the chief hoped only that there would be a trail to follow.

At ten o'clock a telephone message came from the master rogue, and the chief growled as he answered.

“This way of telephoning you is very convenient, chief,' The Black Star said. “You are not wasting time trying to trace the calls, are you?”

“I am not.”

“That is wise. I can tap a wire in a dozen places, chief. I suppose you know that The Princess has been rescued?”

“I do.”

“And I am going to rescue those two men of mine you have in the detention jail, too. But that can wait until later. To-night, I have something more important to do.”

“Oh, have you?” the chief asked.

“Rather sarcastic, aren't you, chief? And I am going to do you a favor, too. I called up to tell you my next move.”

“Well, what is it?”

“The new city bridge across the river will be destroyed at midnight, chief.”

“You devil!”

“And since I am not eager to have anybody hurt, let me advise you to send men to see that the bridge is cleared. I am warning you, and if anybody is on the bridge at midnight and is injured, I'll not count it my fault. I have warned the newspapers, also.”

The connection was broken before the chief could make a reply. He whirled and told Verbeck and Wilkinsen what had been said.

The next instant police headquarters was a scene of excitement. There was a chance that The Black Star might be leading them astray, but they did not dare ignore his warning.

Reserves were rushed to the big new bridge, the pride of the city, which had been opened to traffic less than three months before. It was closed immediately, and a strong force of officers placed at either end. River traffic was warned away.

The newspapers came out with the story of this last threat of The Black Star. Crowds of the curious began gathering at either end of the bridge. Frantic merchants who had establishments near the bridge ends began removing the most valuable parts of their stocks.

Every precaution was taken to prevent the loss of human life if The Black Star struck as he had promised. Below and above the bridge police tugs and fireboats patrolled the river, to keep other craft out of the danger zone, and to watch for The Black Star's men if they tried to approach the bridge in that manner.

Slowly the hour approached. The police were fighting to keep the crowds as far away as possible. The nervous tension grew with every moment.

Eleven-thirty came, eleven forty-five. And now the crowds waited breathlessly, half afraid, half curious. On the great bridge there was not a single human being. The street cars that crossed it had been stopped. The gigantic structure was absolutely empty for the first time since it had been opened.

In the distance a clock began striking the hour of midnight. But none in the great crowd heard a stroke beyond the second. In the middle of the river a giant fountain of water sprang into life. The same thing happened against two more piers of the bridge. There was a flash of flame, a dull roar that rose and spread, a cloud of smoke and pungent gas.

Shrieks and cries came from the throats of the throng on either shore. The smoke and gas cleared away. The fireboats played their searchlights up and down the river.

The great center span of the bridge was a mass of twisted steel. The three great piers were nothing but débris. The Black Star had done as he had threatened.

ITHIN an hour after the destruction of the new bridge another letter from The Black Star was delivered to the office of a prominent morning newspaper. And a few minutes later extra editions were sent on the streets, and the terrified throngs read what the master rogue had to say.

The Black Star had written with the little rubber stamps:

The master rogue could have written nothing that would have terrified the people more. If he had had the bridge mined for months, prepared for instant destruction by the touch of a finger on a button, what else might he not have done?

Back at police headquarters after the destruction of the bridge, Verbeck held a conference with Chief Somerset and Mayor Redner. It was the same old story—the mayor insisting that The Black Star be caught immediately, and the chief fuming because the mayor was unreasonable.

While they were talking The Black Star spoke again over the tapped wire. “Chief, there was nobody hurt?”

“I think not, you crook.”

“Hard words, eh, chief? However, I am glad that there was nobody injured. I just wanted to give a demonstration. And for your private information, chief, I will say that I am going ahead with my plans now. I am going to deliver blow after blow until the people of the city come to their senses and learn that they must make up that purse for me.”

“Going ahead with your plans, are you?” the chief said. “And what are you going to do next?”

“Sorry, but I do not feel inclined to tell you that,” The Black Star replied. “We shall have the element of surprise in my future operations. It is not that I am afraid of being caught. I simply want to shock the town as much as posisble [sic].”

Before the chief could speak again the connection was broken. Somerset reported the conversation to Verbeck and the mayor, telling them everything that The Black Star had said.

“The fiend must be stopped!” the mayor said. “Are we to let him continue his work of destruction? What do you suppose he will do next?”

“That is hard to tell,” Verbeck replied. “He can strike in any part of the city, almost. As he wrote to the papers, he probably has planned several things like the destruction of the bridge.”

“Then the city is at his mercy,” declared the mayor. “Is there nothing at all that we can do?”

“What can we do?” Chief Somerset asked. “We raided his headquarters—I mean Verbeck did while I was a prisoner. And we capture an important member of his band, and the sheriff lets The Black Star's men take her out of the county jail right under his nose. We don't know how many men the crook has in his command, or how many women. Some of our friends may be in his organization, you know. What can we do unless we get our hands on him and stop his work?”

“We must end this,” the mayor declared. “Unless he can be caught within twenty-four hours I shall recommend that the amount he demands be raised and paid.”

Verbeck and Muggs slept at the former's club that night, ready to take the trail the moment an alarm came. But no alarm came. The Black Star had done enough for the present, it seemed.

On the following day there was nothing heard from the master crook. Rumors flooded the police headquarters, and officers were kept busy investigating them, but nothing came of it.

“He simply went to another headquarters and continued his work,” the chief declared. “Except that he lost his prisoners, we are exactly where we were when this thing started.”

The day passed without The Black Star making a move as far as the police knew. But the city was sick with apprehension. The people were afraid of what the master rogue might do next. They looked at the ruins of the bridge and shuddered. Suppose The Black Star, in his anger, did something like that again, and neglected to warn people to stay away from the scene?

Night came, and crowds of people thronged the streets of the downtown district, expecting a new atrocity, wondering where the next blow would fall, and what would be the nature of it.

Police reserves were being held in readiness, and Verbeck's big roadster was at the curb before headquarters, with Muggs ready behind the wheel. Notices had been posted of huge rewards offered by civic organizations for The Black Star's capture. It was hoped by some that these offers might induce some member of the master criminal's band to turn against him, betray him into the hands of the authorities and so end the reign of terror.

At ten o'clock began the night of terror that the city never forgot afterward.

In half a dozen sections of the city fires broke out, and in each case it was known to be the work of The Black Star. The busy and hard-worked fire department was frantic. Scarcely a piece of apparatus in the city was idle. None of the fires spread to an alarming extent, but the property loss in each case was large, The Black Star having picked buildings where great damage could be done by smoke and water as well as by fire.

Down in the great railroad yards the switching signals suddenly went wrong for no apparent reason, resulting in half a dozen minor wrecks, and delaying the arrival and departure of passenger trains, and The Black Star and his men were known to be responsible for that.

The newspapers issued extras every hour, and an infuriated populace read of new disasters at intervals, as they would have read of the innings of a baseball game or the rounds of a prize fight. The terror of the people was increasing.

Except in certain quarters there was no concerted move to compromise with The Black Star, or to raise the great sum he had demanded. He had done nothing yet to strike at the people as a whole. He had hit rich men, and had struck at the city's pride, but the man on the street had not received a personal thrill of fear for himself and those dear to him.

But, an hour before daylight, The Black Star, probably realizing this, delivered his great blow. He sent more letters to the newspapers and one to Chief Somerset. They read:

That was all, but it was more than enough. What those words meant exactly, the people did not know, but they could guess. That the water supply of the city would be poisoned they did not doubt.

And then the man on the street knew what terror meant. It was as though a great city suddenly found itself without water. It did no good for experts to declare that the water was pure. There was a possibility that it was pure, but the people did not know.

And the people learned, then, what a water supply means to a big city. They were forced to go to the river for water and boil it before using it. Business was disrupted. Mothers feared for their children. The people became frantic.

Mass meetings were held every hour, and demands made upon the authorities. And the helpless officials could do nothing but throw up their hands. The mayor, the chief of police, Roger Verbeck, the sheriff, thought in vain for some solution.

And then a committee of reputable citizens declared that there was nothing to do except raise the money that The Black Star demanded, and buy him off. It would be better to do that, they pointed out, than to let the reign of terror continue for a week or so, and the city's business be ruined beyond repair.

“Let them raise the coin,” the chief said to Roger Verbeck. “Let them get it ready. The point I want to make is this—The Black Star will have to collect it in some manner.”

“And when he tries to get it” Verbeck intimated.

“Exactly!” said Chief Somerset.

HE committee was not long in appointing sub-committees and arranging for gathering the money. At the chief's hint that there was a possibility of capturing The Balck [sic] Star when he tried to get away with the fortune, and of the money being repaid, plans were made to keep an accurate record of all donors.

The city council voted an appropriation, the chamber of commerce did the same, wealthy individuals made contributions, and then began the task of collecting the bulk of the sum from the citizens.

Now that an effort was being made in that direction, The Black Star held his hand. He kept up his telephone conversations with the chief and Verbeck, asked a multitude of questions concerning the work of gathering the funds, and always closed his conversation with a sarcastic laugh that caused Chief Somerset to grind his teeth and Roger Verbeck to flush.

“Boss, it makes me crazy,” Muggs said to Verbeck. “Think of this big crook holding up the town and gettin' away with it. We're goin' to nab him when he tries to collect, ain't we?”

“We're going to try, Muggs.”

“A million in gold weighs somethin', boss.”

“It certainly does, Muggs, and how he expects to get away with it, is more than we know. He'll dictate terms of delivery, I suppose.”

“I'll do some dictatin' if I ever get my hands on him,” Muggs declared.

In three days the bulk of the sum had been collected, and banks and trust companies were persuaded to change it into gold coin. The coins were placed in bags and held at police headquarters under a heavy guard. And then the announcement was made through the newspapers that the amount had been reached, and that it was for The Black Star to say how it would be delivered.

The Black Star called Chief Somerset over the tapped wire, had the chief get a stenographer on an extension telephone, and issued his orders, the stenographer copying them so that there would be no mistake.

“At midnight to-night the money is to be taken in a van, under heavy guard, to the upper city bridge across the river.

“The bridge will be closed to traffic and a police guard put at each end.

“As many men as are necessary will go to the middle of the bridge and unload the bags of coin.

“The bags will be placed on heavy tarpaulins, the tarpaulins folded over, and one huge bundle made of the whole.

“This bundle will be lowered by block and tackle to within four feet of the surface of the river, and left there.

“The men then will leave the bridge, and the bridge will be kept closed until after I have obtained the money, which will be in a very short time after it is lowered to the water.”

Verbeck and the chief digested those instructions and then went to a conference with Sheriff Grogin and the mayor.

“Why, how can the crook get away with it?” the mayor wanted to know. “If he comes down the river in a boat, no matter how fast the boat”

“If he does, we'll get him,” the chief declared.

“Get him? You must get him!” the mayor declared. “You must capture him and get back that money. Every cent of it must be returned to those who contributed it. The fair name of the city is at stake.”

Verbeck and the chief spent the entire afternoon making their plans. Now that The Black Star was to appear at a certain place at a certain time, they had some hope.

Arrangements were made to have police officers in plain clothes on both banks of the river, in the warehouses, on the docks, at every point of vantage where there was a possibility of putting hands on The Black Star.

The general public was informed merely that the money was to be paid that night. Chief Somerset did not care to give out the details, for he wanted no throng of the curious near the bridge, in case there was a battle.

Fifteen minutes before midnight a van carried the money through the city, police automobiles ahead and following, and the van itself under a heavy police guard.

It reached the bridge and drove out to the middle. The bags of coin were arranged as The Black Star had directed, and the big bundle lowered to within four feet of the surface of the water. And then the police left the bridge and watched from either shore.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes were watching that bundle of money hanging over the water. There was light enough from the bridge so that it could be plainly seen. At one end of the bridge was a tug, and on the tug a powerful search light ready to be turned on the spot the moment there was a movement there. Scores of officers held revolvers in their hands, ready to use them instantly when The Black Star or any of his men made their appearance.

“How does he expect to get it?” the chief asked Verbeck. “He wanted it a few feet above the water. That means he is coming after it with a boat, doesn't it?”

Verbeck did not reply. Knowing The Black Star as he did, Verbeck expected something new. Muggs standing beside him was growling like an angry watchdog.

And so they waited for five minutes, ten—a quarter of an hour. Then the surface of the water at one side of the bundle of money was broken. What looked to be a gigantic pair of shears came up. One snip the great shears gave, and the rope that held the bundle was severed, and the bundle fell with a splash into the stream.

And now a hail of bullets was directed toward the spot, and the search lights played upon it. But nobody was seen, nothing more was heard. Tugs rushed to the spot, and began grappling, but there was nothing on the floor of the river.

“Got it!” the chief said in disgust. “But how did he do it? That is what I want to know. With all of us standing here waiting and watching for him, he gets away with it!”

“How did he do it? How could he do it?” the mayor demanded.

There seemed to be no answer then. But there was an answer a few hours later. Into police headquarters stormed the commanding officer of a foreign submarine that had been in the river on an official visit. His story was simple.

Men dressed in black gowns and wearing black hoods over their heads had seized the submarine while most of her crew were enjoying shore leave.

These men had subdued crew and officers, and then had taken charge of the craft themselves. The commanding officer had not been rendered unconscious, and he saw everything that took place.

The submarine was submerged, and ran slowly down the river. At the bridge it was stopped. The great shears were used, and the bundle of coin dropped to the submarine's deck. And then the boat was driven on down the river and out toward the open sea.

At a certain place the submarine was driven to the surface. There she was met by a powerful launch. The bundle of money was transferred to the launch. The Black Star himself thanked the commander of the submarine for the use of his boat, got into the launch with his men, and went away, leaving the submarine rolling in the sea, the commanding officer waiting for his men to regain consciousness and help take the craft back to her moorings.

Chief Somerset threw up his hands when he heard that story. And then he turned to his desk and wrote his resignation.

“I'm beating the mayor to it,” he said to Verbeck. “I can resign, but what can you do?”

“I can take a long trip,” Verbeck said. “I haven't been to Europe for a few years, and I want to see the sights over there again. We'll go home, Muggs, and you can start packing while I telephone for reservations. We're going to take the first decent boat. A little trip to Europe will be good for our nerves.”

“And maybe we'll meet the big crook over there, boss,” Muggs said. “And, if we do”

“Let us have silence, Muggs,” Verbeck said. “I have a headache already.”