CHAPTER X--CAUGHT IN A NET
Silence followed the announcement of the Black Star--silence for amoment, during which Muggs watched his master and waited for the signthat he was to choke the man on the divan into insensibility fordaring to say such a thing. But the sign was not given.
Suddenly Roger Verbeck felt sick at heart. The Black Star's tone, hisbearing, the expression in his face told that he spoke the truth. AndVerbeck knew enough to confirm it. Faustina had been acting in apeculiar manner. And that second woman who had called on him in theBlack Star's headquarters--how timid she had appeared, how afraid! Shehad reeled when she read her orders. She had demanded to know whereVerbeck got the ring he was wearing. And that very afternoon, when hemet her at her home--her words had been mysterious, her actions out ofthe ordinary.
"So you see how it is," the Black Star was saying. "Do you want tosave her, save her brother also? Then release me, and I'll help--for Imust save those friends of mine. I'm as much in the dark regardingthem as you, for I've never seen any of their faces, remember. Yourealize what will happen if they are caught, don't you? There could beno escape from the penitentiary for any of them. And there are thingsto be found in my headquarters--notes in Faustina Wendell'shandwriting, for instance, notes giving information----"
He stopped at the look that came into Verbeck's face.
"And you think I'll let you go now?" Verbeck demanded. "Why, I'llfight you more than ever now! You've made a cat's-paw of that boy;you've dragged the sweetest and most innocent girl in the world intoyour filthy scheme."
"The prosecuting attorney won't consider her innocent when he readsthose notes."
"You'd have me let you go--then you'd try to drag _me_ into the mess tosave my intended wife! And, through me, others--and so on! It's fightyou and beat you now, or surrender to you like a coward, and let yougo ahead with your nefarious plans. I'll take the chance, Mr. BlackStar!"
Verbeck looked at his watch; it was a quarter of eleven. He whirled toface Muggs.
"Guard this crook!" he cried. "Guard him well. Shoot him if he triesto escape!"
"What are you going to do, boss?"
"I'm going to play the game out to the end. I'm going to the ball andsave Faustina Wendell and her brother--and I'm going to see that thepolice get the others, and then this man here. That's all I have todo--get Faustina and Howard away in time. This crook's clever schemehas another angle--nobody can swear the Wendells are mixed up in this.That's what I have to do--separate the crooks from the innocentvictims. Watch that man!"
Muggs screeched at him. The Black Star tried to tell him something.But Roger Verbeck had dashed from the house and toward his machine. Hewas almost sobbing, and fear gripped at his heart. The chickens hadcome home to roost! No wonder Faustina had acted so peculiarly, smallwonder she had shown anxiety! And she was in danger. He had orderedher to steal--perhaps her love and fear for her brother would lead herto do so. She might be caught in the act--Faustina Wendell, prouddaughter of one of the pioneer families, caught stealing jewels!
And his ring--she had recognized that! Great Heaven! Did she think hewas the Black Star? Did she imagine he had played on her love to makeher a member of a band of thieves? What might she not suspect, whenshe had seen that ring?
She would remember that he had led a sort of wild life in the ends ofthe earth, never showing a tendency to settle down until he had fallenin love with her. She might pile up the little things until she had amound of evidence--women do such things. She might doubt his manhood,really believe he was the master crook, brutal enough to endanger thegirl he professed to love and her brother. Had Howard Wendell noticedthat ring, too? Had Howard been the midnight prowler waiting on theboulevard to see what time Verbeck reached home?
He was in the car, out of the yard, rushing like the wind down thestreet, not caring whether the machine skidded perilously through thesnow. It was almost eleven o'clock; he had ample time, more than anhour. It would be a simple thing, after all, merely to get Faustinaand Howard to one side and see that neither wore a red ribbon, let thepolice capture the others, and then explain.
Then another thought came to him--those notes the Black Star had saidwere in the house where he made his headquarters! The captured menwould talk, mention that house, and the police would search. Faustinamight be endangered in that way. He didn't dare take the chance ofleaving those notes until after he went to the ball. He'd have tosearch for them, find, and destroy them.
There was more than an hour--he had ample time. He drove the machine ata furious pace, disregarding police, who shrieked at him, barelymissing trolley cars, dodging pedestrians at crossings. Out along thelong boulevard it was easier going, for there the wind had swept thepavement clear of snow, and there was not so much traffic. He left thepaved street and cut down the hill toward the old house where theBlack Star had established his headquarters. He did not have time totake precautions; he trusted to the good fortune that always had stoodat his side in emergencies. He turned the machine to the curb a blockaway from the house, sprang out, and rushed across vacant lots towardhis goal.
Through the dusty hall he rushed, reaching in his coat pocket formatches. He found a candle in the furnished room and lighted it. Thenbreathlessly he began his search.
Nothing was in the drawer at the end of the table except what he hadseen before. There was no furniture in the room in which letters mightbe concealed. He inspected the couch, but found nothing. He ripped theseat and back from the armchair, but his search was not rewarded. Inthe kitchen he opened drawers and bins, but found nothing except dustand cobwebs. He rushed back to the Black Star's room again.
His foot found the trigger of the trapdoor, and he opened it and creptto the edge of the pit to hold the candle and peer down. There wasnothing but the smooth cement walls and flooring. He ripped away rugs,searched the floor, finally stood, panting, beside the table indespair.
"He lied!" he gasped. "He must have lied--and I have been losing time!"
He looked at his watch again--it was one minute after eleven o'clock.It would take him only fifteen minutes to reach the big hall where theCharity Ball was being held if he drove swiftly, and so he had timefor further search, but it seemed of no use.
Staggering against the side of the table, he threw out his hand togrip the edge--and a drawer shot out!
He forgot the place and danger, and gave a cry of joy. Accident hadaccomplished what search had failed to reveal. The drawer was halffilled with papers. He inspected them quickly--yes, there were severalnotes in Faustina's handwriting, and a forged check for three thousanddollars in the bolder scrawl that belonged to Howard Wendell. TheBlack Star evidently had had that check close at hand to show the boynow and then in case he thought of quitting the organization.
There were other letters, too, the handwriting of which Verbeck seemedto recognize, but could not quite place--letters written by othervictims of the Black Star, he supposed.
He carried them to the grate, set them afire, fed them to the flamesone at a time. He ran back to the table and pressed the edge of it allthe way around, and found one other drawer. There was nothing in it,however, and he felt that he had secured and destroyed all thedangerous papers there. The fire in the grate died down. Verbeckstirred the ashes to make certain nothing remained that would give aclew. Then he blew out the candle and started through the dusty hallto the door.
As he reached it he stopped in alarm. Creeping toward the house fromthe hedge were two men. Far to the right were two more. To the leftwere two more. He heard a sibilant whisper from near the wall a shortdistance away. Light from the nearest street lamp flashed against apoliceman's shield.
The police were surrounding the house!