CHAPTER XXVI—A MAN OF MYSTERY

Muggs, crouched down behind the wheel, watched the fine rain beat against the wind shield of the roadster, and hoped he would not have to remain in that position of inaction for long.

He observed a man approaching along the sidewalk, a man who glanced at the apartment houses as if seeking a certain one. Directly opposite the roadster this man stopped, looked around for an instant, and then hurried over to Muggs.

“Know where the Albemarle Apartments might be?” he asked.

“They might be almost any place, but I’ve got an idea you’ll find them in the middle of the next block,” Muggs replied. “It’s a big, white, brick building.”

“Thanks,” the other growled.

He turned away—and as quickly turned back again. Reflection from the light on the corner flashed from something he held in his hand. A small cloud of vapor rushed at Muggs’ face. Muggs gasped, and his head fell forward.

Instantly the other man sprang into the roadster, lifted the unconscious form of Muggs from the driver’s seat, and placed it in the rear seat, afterward throwing a robe over it. Then he took Muggs’ place behind the wheel, crouched forward, waiting.

The motor cyclist stopped beside the roadster at this moment.

“Got him all right?” he asked.

“Cinch! Muggs is now sleeping peacefully in the rear beneath a heavy robe. I sure caught him off guard.”

“Well, Verbeck is the next job. He may stay in there talkin’ to his girl half the night, and he may be out in three minutes. It’ll be a game of wait, I guess. I’ll hang around to give help, if you need it, and be ready to jump in as soon as you get him. You gave Muggs a heavy shot, didn’t you?”

“I guess he’s good for half an hour in dreamland, all right.”

“Verbeck wants to get a heavy shot, too. When we get out on the river road we can bind and gag the two of ’em. Careful now. If we miss out on this the big boss’ll half kill us.”

“I ain’t never failed him yet, not the Bl——”

“Cut it!” the motor cyclist exclaimed. “Be gentle with that name around these parts. This is the home of Verbeck’s fiancée, remember, and Heaven knows what sort of cops might be posted around here. I’d better duck now.”

He left the roadster and walked a short distance down the street, finally coming to a stop against a wall. There he waited in the shadows, as did the driver of the light truck at the mouth of the alley. The truck driver had witnessed the undoing of Muggs, and had chuckled some at it, but had made no move to interfere. Little cared he if the Black Star’s men rendered Roger Verbeck’s chauffeur unconscious and hurled him into the rear of the roadster!

Fifteen minutes passed. The motor cyclist left his retreat and walked up and down the street now and then. The man in Verbeck’s car remained crouched behind the wheel of the machine, and the truck driver at the alley’s mouth did not change his position.

Then the front door of the apartment house was opened, and a man and woman stood framed in it for a moment. The woman stepped back, and the door was closed again; the man turned up the collar of his raincoat and stepped briskly down the steps and toward the waiting roadster.

The watcher at the mouth of the alley betrayed some interest now. The motor cyclist left his place of seclusion and walked forward slowly, head bent as if against the force of the storm.

“Home, Muggs!”

The man who had taken Muggs’ place reached forward as he heard the words and found the seat beside him occupied. And for the second time that evening he turned swiftly and discharged a cloud of vapor from the pistol he carried. For the second time also that vapor rendered a man unconscious instantly.

“Great! Walked right into the trap!” It was the motor cyclist who spoke. He got into the car and aided his companion in putting the second unconscious man in the rear, under the robe. “Better let her out now!” he went on. “We’ve got ’em both—Verbeck and Muggs. I reckon we caught ’em off their guard. They didn’t expect to get that vapor stuff right here on the boulevard. Great idea of the boss to always give a man what he doesn’t expect! I guess this’ll put a crimp into young and handsome Mr. Verbeck. Nail the boss, will he? Huh!”

The other had turned the roadster, and now it darted up the boulevard at a speed perilously near the limit allowed by city ordinance. From the mouth of the alley darted the light truck, and took up the pursuit. The driver of it was chuckling again, evidently at the ease with which the Black Star’s men had made Verbeck and Muggs captives.

The Verbeck roadster led the way up the boulevard, and, after a time, turned into a side street. Down a long hill it dashed, with the light truck following less than a block behind. Traffic was passing in both directions, but the speed of roadster and truck did not diminish to any great extent.

Now the residence district was left behind, and the two machines were passing through the dark wholesale district. Here the truck dropped a short distance behind, and its driver glanced around frequently to see whether any other machine was following.

And then a railroad crossing was reached, and the roadster was forced to stop against the gates while a long freight train was pulled slowly by. The truck drove up and stopped behind it. The driver got down and stepped across the sidewalk and into a cheap saloon on the corner there. He came out again almost instantly, puffing at a cigar he had purchased. He stood beside his truck, looking at the train, shaking the raindrops from his coat collar. The two men in the front seats of the roadster glanced at him, but apparently he gave them no attention.

The end of the train rattled past; the gates began to lift. The roadster started slowly forward across the tracks. The man who had been driving the truck gave a quick spring—and landed on the rear of the roadster, where there was a broad bulge in the body, with an extra wheel lashed upon it. Top and curtains were up; the men in the roadster could not see him.

They were in the poorer part of the city now, and presently at the end of the paved streets. Here there began a road that curved along the river, and, after striking this road, the man driving the roadster got all speed possible out of his machine. The other crept into the rear end, lifted the robe, gave the two prisoners fresh shots from the vapor gun, and then bound and gagged them.

On and on they rushed through the night, the wheels hurling mud in all directions, the brilliant headlights cutting a path through the darkness.

They came to a bridge, and so crossed the river. Here the man who rode on the rear end of the car was exposed twice as it flashed under the bridge lights, but no bridge tender observed him. It was a bad night—the tenders merely stepped to the doors of their tiny houses, saw that a motor car was passing, and let it go at that.

On the other side of the river, the speed of the car decreased. After a time the machine was driven from the main road into a sort of lane. Here the going was slower yet, for the mud was deep and the roadbed cut into deep ruts. The car lurched from side to side in such fashion that the man who rode behind was almost hurled off.

He could hear the men in the car talking now.

“Nearly there—better dim the headlights,” one of them was saying.

Instantly the headlights were dimmed, and in the semidarkness the car plowed on through the mud. Now it approached an old house, from one window of which a light flashed. The car was stopped. The man who had been riding behind dropped off into the mud and crept through the black night toward the fence.

One at a time, the two unconscious prisoners were taken from the roadster, carried through a gate up a walk, and to the front door of the old house. A bell would tinkle, the door would be opened, the prisoner handed over. After that had been done, the roadster, with all lights out, was turned around and left in front of the gate. Then the men who had accomplished the abduction entered the house, and the one light that had shone from a window was extinguished.

Now the man who had been crouching against the fence moved rapidly, yet with extreme caution. He crept past the gate, and where a great tree threw its branches over the fence he vaulted over. Standing against the trunk of the tree, he waited for a time in silence, listening intently for some noise that would tell of a human being near. He heard nothing but the moaning of the wind, the beating of the river against the shore, the soft patter of the rain on the leaves.

He crept forward again, a few feet at a time, and finally reached the side of the house. He listened near a window, but could hear nothing. He found the window fastened, went on to another, and found that locked also.

Now he sensed something near him, but it seemed to be animal rather than human. His hand dived into a pocket and came out with one of the Black Star’s vapor guns. With his back against the side of the house, he listened and waited.

He was sure now that he could hear breathing. Then he made out two eyes glaring at him in the darkness. Those eyes seemed to flicker for an instant, and in that instant the man lurched quickly to one side.

A body fell against him; he heard a snarl. He sank to his knees, grasped a hairy throat, discharged the vapor gun, and felt the body relax. His hands worked swiftly in the darkness on a mission of exploration. He was chuckling again as he got upon his feet. So the Black Star did not depend wholly on human beings to guard him—he had trained dogs!

Should there be another dog, he might sound an alarm before the vapor gun got in its work. The prowler knew that, and so he hesitated no longer, but hurried around the end of the house. Here he found a cellar window unlocked. A moment later he was inside the house.

He had an electric torch in a pocket, but feared to flash it here. Again he listened for a time, and then felt his way around the wall, and so came to a flight of steps. Up these he crept, to find a locked door at the top.

Once more he listened, and seemed to hear voices coming from a distance. He reached in another pocket, drew forth a key of peculiar shape, and worked at the lock of the door for some time. On the other side a key fell out with a clatter. He waited fully a minute, scarcely daring to breathe, but decided at the end of that time that the noise made by the falling key had not been heard.

Now he turned the knob, and presently opened the door half an inch. Bit by bit he threw it back, and finally stepped into the room. He closed the door behind him as carefully as he had opened it, and even searched and found the key and locked the door again. Hurrying noiselessly across the room, he entered another, and finally passed into a narrow hallway. He carried the vapor gun in one hand now and his electric torch in the other. At any instant, he knew, discovery might come. Some place in that hall a door might be opened, and light flood it. He was liable to stumble against one of the Black Star’s men in the darkness.

When he reached the other end of the hall he stopped to listen again. Once more he heard voices coming as if from a distance, and decided that they came from some room on the second floor. He was bold enough to flash his torch once now, and discovered a rear staircase. To this he made his way, and up it, and into a hallway on the second floor.

Now he felt that he was on more dangerous ground. He could hear the voices plainly, and could locate the room from which they came. Toward the front of the hall a thin streak of light streamed from beneath a door.

He managed to slip into the room adjoining that from which the light came. After listening for some time there, he flashed his torch again. The room was large, bare, dusty. On one side were two windows, the panes filmed with dirt. On the opposite side from which he had entered was another door, with some old curtains hanging before it.

He crept across to this door, careful that the boards of the floor did not creak with his steps. He bent and peered through a keyhole into the room beyond. He did not chuckle now, for a chuckle might have meant disaster, but he did smile, and the expression on his face was one of lively satisfaction. He had arrived at an opportune moment.

Caution remained with him, however. He hurried back across the room and locked the door with the key from his pocket. Then he journeyed to one of the windows and made sure that it was unlocked and that from it a man easily could drop to the ground. That done, he went back to the keyhole again and bent down to watch.

As he took up his position a deep voice came from the other room, a voice that seemed to be issuing orders in a tone that meant the speaker generally had his orders obeyed instantly.

“All ready now! Bring those two back to earth, and we’ll have the show!” the voice said. “Number Ten, get out of the house and down to the river and see that everything is prepared. It is now nine-thirty o’clock, and we want to leave about eleven.”