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Black Star's Subterfuge/Chapter 3

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pp. 41-46.

3240614Black Star's Subterfuge — Chapter 3Johnston McCulley

CHAPTER III.

THE NEW HEADQUARTERS.

MUGGS regained his cunning the instant he regained consciousness. He realized he was stretched on a couch, and that his hands and feet were bound. He made no effort to struggle, and he did not even open his eyes.

For fully a minute he lay motionless, almost without breathing, his ears strained to catch every sound. Once, coming from a distance, he heard the clanging bell of a trolley car. The rattling of vehicles on a busy paved street, the moaning of the wind that had been blowing a gale at the time of his abduction, the low-pitched voices of men in the room, discussing his case—the things he expected to hear—were not discernible.

Still he did not open his eyes, hoping that, if anybody was in the room, they would speak sooner or later and give him some clew to his predicament. He was breathing deeply and regularly now, his brain had cleared, and he knew the effect of the vapor he had inhaled had worn away. And then——

"Why play 'possum, Mr. Muggs? You have been conscious, and your brain has been active, for the better part of five minutes, and I know it!"

The voice was low, deep, striking—the words coming in a peculiar staccato. Muggs remembered that the Black Star possessed a voice like that. He opened his eyes.

"That is better. Why pretend?"

Opening his eyes was all Muggs did, save gasp, for he did not have to move his body to observe the scene. It was spread before him.

He was on a couch in a corner of a large room. The apartment was lavishingly furnished; mahogany table and chairs, tapestries, art rugs were there to delight the eye.

At one end of the table stood a tall figure enveloped in a flowing black robe with a hood that covered the head. The face was hidden by a black mask through which two eyes glittered. On the front of the hood, in flaming jet, was a big star.

"The Black Star!" Muggs gasped, scarcely knowing why he spoke at all, since it seemed so useless.

"You have guessed correctly, Muggs," the Black Star said, chuckling. "Once again you see the Black Star in his headquarters, his workshop. Before, you visited me like a thief in the night, accompanied by Roger Verbeck, the man you style your boss. This time, I have had you brought here."

The Black Star folded his arms and looked at the man on the couch, as if speculating what to do with him. Muggs remained silent, waiting, his brain busy with a thousand thoughts. He knew now that it was a member of the Black Star's band who had watched him in the restaurant, and that the chauffeur had been another. And why had he been abducted and carried to the master criminal's headquarters? Did the Black Star think he could hold Muggs as hostage and force Roger Verbeck to cease his campaign to put the master rogue behind the bars?

"Really, Mr. Muggs, I had hoped for something better from you," the Black Star was saying. "When I gave orders for you to be abducted and carried here I laughed to myself—I believed the men who received those orders would have their hands full. It appears, however, that the task was as easy as picking up a child."

"Yeh?" Muggs snarled.

"I knew, you see, that you would be in the business district to-day, since Roger Verbeck was purchasing supplies—stocking up the old Verbeck house well, to be comfortable with you and Detective Riley while conducting his campaign to capture me——"

"And you can bet he'll gel you yet!" Muggs loyally exclaimed.

"Do you really think so, Muggs? However, I have you now!"

"Well, what's it to be—goin' to shoot me, or what?"

"My dear Muggs! I abhor violence! I am not a thug. Wit, strategy, the game of brains—those are the things! My purpose in bringing you here was not ulterior."

"Talk United States and get it off your chest, quick!" Muggs said.

"Such language! I cannot, for the life of me, understand why a refined gentleman like Roger Verbeck endures your companionship. By having you carried here, I believed I was doing Mr. Verbeck a favor."

"Yeh?"

"He matched his wit against mine, and almost destroyed my organization once. I escaped the silly police, however, and formed my organization anew, also obtained a new headquarters. Has it not been the desire of yourself, Mr. Verbeck and Detective Riley—the trio sworn to capture me—to discover the whereabouts of this new headquarters? Well—here it is, Muggs."

"I can see the headquarters, all right!"

"And please observe the heavy curtain on that side of the room. It covers an open doorway, Muggs. I am going to lift that curtain now and give you a shock. Yes, Muggs, I feel sure it will be quite a shock."

The Black Star walked slowly across the room to the curtain, turned and looked at Muggs again, then swiftly threw the curtain back. With an exclamation, Muggs struggled to get to his feet. In the doorway, sitting bound in a chair, his hands fastened before him—was Roger Verbeck. A handkerchief gagged him.

"You—you got the boss!" Muggs cried. "You——"

"Oh, yes! It proved as easy to capture Roger Verbeck as it did to get you, Muggs, so do not feel too much grieved that you were taken by my men. I merely wanted to make sure of the capture of one of you, to show you the new headquarters, but my men were so successful they caught two of you. Match wits with the Black Star and his band? You poor fools!"

"You—you——" Muggs sputtered in sudden wrath at seeing his beloved master in such an extremity. Rage gathered within him, and he twisted at wrists and ankles in a futile effort to get free. The Black Star stepped forward and pushed against Muggs' breast, and Muggs was toppled over on the couch.

"Take it easy, Muggs," the Black Star advised. "I have no intention of harming Mr. Verbeck, nor yourself. I merely intend keeping both of you here for a short time, letting you witness anything that may transpire, and then you'll be allowed to go. Understand?"

Muggs growled and looked at the floor. Verbeck felt suddenly elated. It would be like the Black Star to take such a chance. He could crow about it afterward—write letters to the papers, and say he had abducted Roger Verbeck and Muggs, and revealed the new headquarters to them, yet could not be located and captured. And it was possible, Verbeck thought, that he might observe or hear something that would give him a clew to the location of the place. He doubted not, that when he and Muggs were sent away again, they would go unconscious, as they had come.

"This headquarters is a great improvement over the old one," the Black Star said. "I really ought to thank you, Mr. Verbeck, for driving me out of the other. Allow me, Mr. Verbeck, to remove the gag."

He went forward and removed it, and unlashed Verbeck from the chair. Then he helped him hop across the room and caused him to sit down beside Muggs.

"That is much better," he said. "I may mention that it will do you no good to shriek or screech or howl for assistance. The place we are in—— Ah!"

A bell had tinkled. Muggs struggled and managed to sit up on the couch beside Verbeck. Both of them remembered about that other headquarters. There bells had tinkled, and members of the Black Star's band of criminals had entered to make reports or receive orders. Gowns and masks—and conversations carried out on blackboards. Yes—there were the blackboards!

"A friend is coming, gentlemen," the Black Star said. "I request that you remain on the couch and keep silent. You cannot tell what may happen if you try to leave the couch."

The Black Star chuckled and disappeared through a small door. Again a bell tinkled. Another door, on the opposite side of the room, opened, and there entered another man clad in black robe and mask, save that no star of jet flamed on the hood of the robe.

He started forward in surprise when he observed Muggs seated upon the couch beside Verbeck, but checked himself and did not speak. Neither did Verbeck speak, for he was busy speculating as to the newcomer's height and weight, watching every movement he made, trying to fasten upon something that would enable him to recognize the man if they met again elsewhere. Muggs, however, refused to remain silent.

"Good evening," he said. "The boss is out just now. Anything I can do for you? Got a few diamonds or anything like that you've pinched to-day?"

The smaller door opened and the Black Star entered the room. He went immediately to one of the little blackboards on the wall, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote quickly:

"Muggs! Silence, as I instructed, or——

Then he turned and exhibited to Muggs a weapon. Verbeck supposed it to be an ordinary revolver, but Muggs, who had passed through an experience that evening, guessed that it held no bullets, but the pungent vapor that had caused his downfall in the taxicab. Muggs became silent. He did not wish to be put to sleep while Roger Verbeck was there and might soon need help.

The Black Star motioned his man to the second blackboard.

"No. 7," the man wrote.

"Countersign?" the Black Star demanded on his board.

"Georgia."

"Report."

The other turned his back and wrote rapidly and at length. Muggs and Verbeck bent forward on the couch and peered across the room. Was it possible, Verbeck wondered, that the Black Star was going to allow them to read the blackboard conversation, and then let them go back to the Verbeck house with whatever information they had acquired?

The message was done; the man stepped back. Verbeck and Muggs read what he had written as the Black Star read it:

"Our man goes on duty to-night. Burglar alarms have been fixed. At two in the morning, policeman on beat always stops in restaurant for coffee, as was reported before. Should he not, disturbance will be raised at end of block to decoy him away at proper time."

The Black Star motioned for him to erase, then wrote himself:

"What about the gold?"

"Gold received to-day at noon; moved in quickly and secretly. Hundred thousand in usual sacks. Intend keeping it here about week, then shipping it on, part at time."

When Verbeck read that he had difficulty in adhering to his determination to betray no astonishment. Was it possible the master criminal and his band contemplated the theft of a hundred thousand dollars in gold coin? And they were discussing it here before him and Muggs as if they had been discussing the state of the weather!

"Arrangements for moving perfected?" the Black Star wrote now.

"Everything in readiness; cannot fail," the other answered with the chalk. "Two closed autos. Six of us to handle coin. Garbage wagon will block one end of alley; we will guard other end."

Verbeck was getting the details swiftly now, and an exchange of glances with Muggs showed that the latter also was letting every word written on the blackboard beat into his brain, and making a special effort to remember. They were going to move a fortune in gold in two closed autos. One end of the alley would be blocked and the other guarded. Of all the nerve——

"Good!" the Black Star was writing now. "Let it be to-night at the time agreed."

Why, Verbeck even knew the time! Two o'clock in the morning, when the policeman on the beat would either be drinking coffee in a restaurant, else attracted by a fake light!

All Verbeck had to do now, if allowed to go, or if he escaped in time, was to get word to Detective Riley and to police headquarters, have the chief ascertain what bank or trust company had a hundred thousand in gold received that day, place police around the building, frustrate the Black Star's plan, and possibly capture the master crook or some of his band! Moreover, there was a chance——

But the Black Star was writing again:

"Observe men on couch. One nearest you is Verbeck—other his man, Muggs. Keep your eyes peeled for them in public."

"O. K.," the other wrote.

The Black Star nodded and waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. The other bowed and backed through the door. A minute of silence, then the tinkling of the bell!

"Ah; he has gone!" the Black Star spoke. "You see, Mr. Verbeck, I have the same arrangement as before. I never see the faces of these men of mine, and they never get a glance at me. We do not hear each other's voices. I gather information, plan the work, divide profits. They are faithful men who work together at my bidding. But they could not testify against me, nor I against them, in case of capture. You see?"

"Yeh?" Muggs cried. "How about the eight we caught before? They saw your face, all right!"

"My dear Muggs! They were bailed out, were they not? And they have left the country, supplied with ample funds, you may be sure. The men working with me now are those who were not caught and did not see my face—and some new ones my partner procured."

"You mean to stand there and tell us," Verbeck said, "that you are going to steal a hundred thousand in gold coin to-night?"

"At precisely two o'clock in the morning, Mr. Verbeck."

"You can't get away with it!" Muggs exclaimed.

"No? Did I not get away with a choice collection of diamonds from the vault of Jones & Co., while you and Verbeck and Detective Riley looked on?"

"Yeh? Well, you'll go too far one of these days! We'll get you, and we'll get you good! And when we do—good night! You'll get more than life!"

"Meaning death, Muggs? When the time comes, my man, I'll know how to die, even if I have lo descend to suicide!"

The Black Star turned and paced the length of the room. Verbeck leaned back against the cushions on the couch, and wondered what the Black Star intended doing next. He was willing to let Muggs do the talking, while he strained his ears for some sound, and his eyes for some sight, that would reveal to him the location of the building in which they found themselves. He knew the Black Star never would let him and Muggs leave the place while conscious. Not having knowledge of the vapor gun, Verbeck found himself wondering just how his unconsciousness was to be brought about.

Regarding his own capture, he guessed simply that one of the Black Star's gang was employed in the restaurant. Undoubtedly some opiate had been in his coffee. It might have been placed there by a kitchen employé, or by the waiter. He imagined the rest—that members of the Black Star's band had pretended to help him home, and had taken him to the master crook's headquarters instead.

"Well," Muggs exclaimed, "I suppose you're goin' to keep us tied up here like a couple of bundles of rags until you pull off this stunt to-night, eh? That'll be nice!"

"My dear Muggs! I merely wanted you and Mr. Verbeck to see my new headquarters. Presently, I am going to have you taken from here and dropped on some corner near the Verbeck house. I am—really."

"I got a picture of you doin' that, after us seein' all this——"

"Only, of course, my dear Muggs, I could not allow you to get a full view of your surroundings. You gentlemen have seen the inside of this room, and that is all—and this room might be in the basement of a factory or the top floor of a hotel for all you know. And when you leave, it must be as you arrived—unconscious. Understand?"

Neither Verbeck nor Muggs replied to that. It was what Verbeck had expected. They would see the interior of this room, but not the exterior of the building. They would regain consciousness again near home. And how could they find the spot again? Why, this room might be in any one of ten thousand buildings in the city!

The bell tinkled again. A short wait, and a gowned and masked man entered.

"No. 10," he wrote on the blackboard.

"Countersign?"

"Jackson."

"Good. You are on time," the Black Star wrote. "You will take these men and drop them within a block or two of the Verbeck place. They must leave this room as they entered it—unconscious."

"O. K.," the other wrote.

He turned from the blackboard. The Black Star, his eyes glittering malevolently through his mask, took a step forward. Muggs struggled to his feet before Verbeck could make a move.

"You squirt that stuff at me again——" he threatened.

The Black Star chuckled as if greatly amused. The other man's hand came into view, and it held the vapor gun. He stepped swiftly toward the crouching, defiant Muggs, as Verbeck struggled to stand.

"You dare squirt that——" Muggs started to threaten again.

Slowly the weapon in the hand of the gowned and masked man was raised—up and up, until the muzzle covered Muggs' heart! Then, suddenly, the man who menaced Muggs whirled and faced the Black Star, and the weapon he held was turned against the master crook.

"Hands up—you!" he cried; and tore the mask from his face.

Verbeck and Muggs gave cries of relief and joy. Here was no member of the Black Star's organization.

Detective Riley stood before them!