CHAPTER XXX—MUGGS IN ACTION

For fifteen minutes they ran in silence, and then the Black Star went forward and stood beside the engineer.

“Put in at the alley between National and Washington Streets,” he ordered. “Out with your lights, and make as little noise as possible. The two taxicabs should be waiting at the end of the alley. Get ready, men, and pick up Verbeck and Muggs. We don’t want to lose any more time—we’ve lost enough already.”

He was not chuckling now; he spoke in a stern voice, and his men knew that the Black Star was thinking only of the big-planned crime now, of getting the money and securities from the vault of the National Trust Company and removing the fortune to his headquarters. Then the band would scatter as usual, and in the morning the police would discover that the lodge hall of the Knights of Certainty had been a crooks’ workshop and the robbery made possible because of it—but they would make the discovery too late, as usual.

They would find little black stars pasted in the lodge hall and on the vaults, and none of the members of the Knights of Certainty would be seen again. The Black Star and his men would leave behind a couple of hundred dollars’ worth of furniture—and take away between two and three hundred thousand in coin and negotiable securities. And the next blow perhaps would be struck in a different section of the city and at an unexpected moment, as usual.

The lights of the launch went out, and her speed was cut down until she scarcely crept through the water. Closer and closer she slipped to the shore, inside the shadows of large warehouses. She passed the end of a street, went in closer, and came finally to the alley. Silently the men lashed her to piling there.

The two taxicabs were waiting, and the transfer to them took but a few minutes. With curtains up, they crept to the mouth of the alley, turned into a street, and sped along it toward the business district. There was nothing unusual in the appearance of the taxicabs. A score of police officers would have glanced at them once, and then turned away. Repeatedly they were held up at crossings by the theater and café crowds passing. They were caught in traffic jams, but their chauffeurs puffed at cigarettes and waited nonchalantly until they could go ahead.

They reached the front of the building where the Knights of Certainty had their hall, but did not stop there. They went into the alley and pulled up at a little side door. One of the men got out, rapped on the door, and gave a password when a slot in it was opened. The Black Star and his men got out, glanced around, carried their prisoners from the cabs, and went into the building. The door was closed again; the two taxicabs drove away.

An elevator made two trips to the third floor, and the Black Star and his men entered the lodge hall. Guards took up the positions that had been assigned to them. The doors were bolted securely; the windows had been fitted with opaque glass and heavy curtains.

“Well, here we are,” the Black Star said. “Mask, gentlemen! Now bring our prisoners back to life, and we’ll let them see how easy it is to take money.”

While his orders were being obeyed the master criminal went to one of the walls and pressed against a certain spot there. A section of the wall swung out, and in the aperture a masked man stood.

“Everything all right?” the Black Star asked.

“All safe, sir,” came the reply.

“The watchmen——”

“Not a hitch there, sir; they are all unconscious and our men in their places. We have reported regular for four hours, and not a suspicion at headquarters or they’d have investigated before this. The patrolman on the beat even looked in at a window once and waved at our man on the first floor.”

“Excellent!” the Black Star said, rubbing his hands in satisfaction.

He walked back to the end of the room. His prisoners were revived now and had been placed side by side in chairs before one of the curtained windows in the rear of the hall.

“Ah, Mr. Verbeck and Mr. Muggs!” the master criminal smirked. “You are conscious again, then? ’Twas a pity you didn’t see the little fight we had with the police. I’d tell you all about it, but we haven’t the time to spare, and you can read about it in to-morrow’s papers. Well, here you are in the hall of the Knights of Certainty. You see the aperture in the wall? My mechanics have arranged a passageway between the walls of the two buildings. We have a sort of glorified dumb-waiter, and by its use can descend to the first floor of the National Trust Company’s building. Simple, eh? I regret I cannot explain the method we are going to use to get into the burglar-proof vaults. Did it become public property, the manufacturers might invent some means of counteracting it. Kindly sit still, gentlemen, while I have my men prepare the way.”

He deliberately turned his back and walked to the center of the hall again and called his men to him, all except the guards near the doors. He issued instructions, and two men hurried to the aperture in the wall and disappeared. The Black Star was the commanding general now, and his followers were eager to obey.

For fifteen minutes perhaps he paced the floor, glancing at his prisoners now and then, and often stopping to issue some whispered instruction. Then one of the men he had sent below returned.

“All ready, sir,” he reported.

“The vaults are opened?” the Black Star asked.

“Yes, sir, and every strong box. All you have to do is take out the swag, sir.”

“The suit cases are there and ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Two of you carry Mr. Verbeck to the dumb-waiter, and we’ll descend with him,” the master criminal commanded. “Sorry I cannot take you at the same time, my dear Muggs, but the capacity of our dumb-waiter is limited. I’ll have you taken below before we are through, though. In the meantime, sit calmly on your chair.”

He laughed as he turned toward the aperture in the wall, laughed again as two of his men carried the bound and gagged prisoner as if he had been a log of wood, and chuckled as he saw the anger flashing in Muggs’ eyes. The Black Star, his helpless prisoner, and his two men disappeared, and the aperture in the wall was closed.

Those who remained glanced at Muggs, but did not approach him, and made no offer to taunt him. They left that to the Black Star. All except the guards at the two doors and one who peered through a slit in the curtain at a front window, gathered in the middle of the room and spoke in whispers.

Muggs tugged at his bonds for the hundredth time, and realized that he had been bound well. There was no hope of slipping from these ropes. Here was no broken glass upon which he could saw the ropes, as Roger Verbeck had done once. Nor could he manage to get his fingers into a hip pocket and extract a knife that opened with a touch of the thumb and cut his bonds with that as he had done once before when in the Black Star’s hands. Back at the master criminal’s headquarters he had been searched and his knife taken from him.

He racked his brain for an idea that would lead to release, and could think of none. On the first floor of the adjoining building, he guessed, the Black Star and his men were filling suit cases with the wealth of the National Trust Company, and a helpless and raging prisoner was being forced to watch the crime and endure the taunts of the Black Star at the same time. If only he could be free and have a good automatic in his hand——

He glanced at the Black Star’s men again; they were not even looking in his direction; they knew well, he supposed, that he could not make a move. He could only sit in the chair against the curtained rear window and look straight ahead, absolutely helpless.

He imagined that he could hear a slight noise outside the window, but it was not repeated. If he could have seen, he would have noticed that the point of a sharp knife pierced the heavy curtain directly behind him, and where none in the room could see. Working slowly, cutting an inch at a time, that knife made a slit half a foot long.

Then Muggs heard the slightest suggestion of a whisper.

“Muggs! We’re here to help, but must move carefully. I’m going to cut your ropes and slip you a gun. Hold your arms tight so the ropes won’t fall away until you’re ready. Steady now!”

Muggs might have shrieked his happiness had not the gag prevented. He didn’t pretend to know the owner of the voice, and he didn’t care much, so that it was a friend. One thing he did know—it was not the voice of Roger Verbeck. And it was not the voice of old Detective Riley, who had helped Muggs and Verbeck several times in their effort to take the Black Star. It was a strange voice, but welcome for all that.

Muggs felt a knife sawing at the ropes that bound his wrists together behind him. He caught the ends as the ropes were severed, and held them so that they would not drop away and alarm the Black Star’s men before his feet were free.

The knife was working on the ropes that bound his feet now. It was slow and tedious work, and at times the knife was still. Finally Muggs felt the last rope give, and he heard the whisper again.

“I’m going to slip you an automatic. Stick ’em all up and hold ’em while we break in behind you. If we make a false move we’ll lose. Is the Black Star still below? Wiggle your fingers if he is.”

Muggs wiggled his fingers by way of answer, and almost immediately he felt the butt of an automatic pressed against his palm.

“Now!” the voice whispered.

None of the criminals were facing Muggs. He stretched his arms and legs once to restore circulation, and then sprang from his chair.

“Hands up!” he shrieked, and leveled the automatic.

Every man in the room whirled to face him at that command. One reached for a weapon, and Muggs shot over his head. Behind him the window was shattered, and there was a sudden commotion as half a dozen uniformed policemen, a lieutenant at their head, tumbled into the lodge hall with guns held ready.

“Keep ’em up!” the lieutenant warned.

Another of the Black Star’s men reached for a gun, and the sergeant dropped him. Another darted quickly across the room, and the bullet that went in his direction missed its mark. He reached the wall—and the light switch.

The lights went out.