CHAPTER XXXIV—WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CHIEF

The head of the police department, knowing that a crowd surrounded the block now, and that news had gone abroad that the Black Star and some of his men had been cornered, and that certain newspaper reporters were standing by and waiting to see whether the police would be made again to look like fools, grew frantic. Also, his determination to capture the Black Star increased. He had his men drive every one out of the bank building and guard the offices and corridors, and, leaving four men to guard the bottom of the shaft, with two others, he got in the box and started to ascend.

The Black Star, from his post above, heard the chief issue these orders, and knew the box was on its upward journey.

“Couldn’t be better,” he told his men. “Only four at the bottom of the shaft now. You know we have to go, of course? Hurry through the corridor to the narrow flight of stairs in the rear, and climb!”

“But——” one of his men began.

“Silence, fool. The box is almost opposite us!”

The chief and his two men were ascending slowly, examining every inch of the walls with their torches. They stopped for a moment just outside the panel, but evidently saw nothing to make them suspicious, for the box continued its ascent.

It went on until it was at the top, and there the chief held a consultation with his men, and examined the lodge hall’s walls, making certain by questioning the men on guard that it would have been impossible for the Black Star and his men to have passed through the room without being seen.

Then the disgusted and sorely angry chief got into the box with his two officers again and started to descend, more puzzled than before.

The Black Star heard the descent begin, and growled orders to his three followers. He touched the wall and slipped the panel back three inches, and thus he waited, one hand ready to close the aperture instantly, the other holding a vapor gun. Below him one of his men stretched out on the floor and made ready to grip the cable when the master criminal gave the word.

The box continued to descend. The chief was speaking of the futility of examining the walls again. He was going to double the guard around the block, he declared, and wait for daylight, and go through the buildings inch by inch until he found the Black Star. The master criminal’s men, all but the three with him, had been accounted for, and now were in cells at police headquarters, he was saying.

The Black Star hissed a warning to the man on the floor. The box came directly opposite the aperture in the wall. The man on the floor gripped the cable and stopped it, and as he did so the Black Star’s vapor gun worked. Three times he pressed the trigger, filling the box with stupefying gas. The chief was the first to topple forward; the other two were unconscious almost instantly.

The Black Star and his men staggered backward, holding the little sponges to their nostrils. The air cleared, and then the master crook opened the panel to its greatest extent, and hauled the chief of police and his two men inside the little room.

“Lively now,” the Black Star commanded. “Only four men at the bottom, remember, and there are three of us. I’ll hurl a vapor bomb as soon as we get to the bottom, and you be ready with your guns. I’ll take one of those suit cases. Number Ten, you take the other. And you, Number Six, make sure of at least two of the men at the bottom, if you can.”

They got into the box and started it downward, leaving the chief and his two men in the halfway room. They mumbled a conversation so that the men below would hear it and think nothing was wrong.

Foot by foot they drew nearer the bottom of the shaft. Finally the box jarred and stopped.

A bomb crashed at the feet of the four men standing less than half a dozen paces away; the cloud of vapor surged at them as the Black Star and his three men sprang out. Vapor guns flashed—and the four criminals rushed through the narrow corridor toward the rear stairs.

They had not hoped to get away without an uproar being raised, and they did not. Two of the four guards shrieked as they fell, and other policemen came running from the front of the bank. They arrived in time to see their comrades falling and to see four dusky shapes running down the corridor. Their revolvers spoke, and the Black Star and his men once more found themselves in the midst of a leaden hail. As they got to the bottom of the stairs one of the men stumbled and fell, coughing because of the wound he had received.

The Black Star and the other two had no time to stop. It was an axiom of the master criminal’s organization that every man should care for himself in such an emergency. “Get away with the loot!” was the motto. A man arrested would be bailed out or aided to escape from prison by the organization, if possible—but the others of the organization were waiting to share the loot and could not be denied for the sake of a single man.

So the three ran on, springing up the stairs two at a time, reaching the second floor and going on to the third. Behind them came the determined pursuit. Outside in the streets other officers heard the commotion, and prepared for a dash on the part of the crooks. The Black Star hurled another vapor bomb, and checked the pursuit for a moment, but not for long.

They were on the fourth floor now, and they could tell by the sounds that officers were rushing up the broad stairs in front. The Black Star was glad that the elevators were not running. Had they been, he could have made a swifter get-away, but also the pursuit would have been closer.

Now they were panting because of their exertion, but did not slacken their pace. The fifth floor was reached, and half a dozen policemen dashed down a hallway at them. Once more there came a fusillade of bullets—and another of the Black Star’s men fell. There remained only himself and one other now—but they kept hold of the two suit cases filled with loot.

The top floor was above them, and they reached it only by hurling two more vapor bombs. They rushed along a hallway toward the front of the building now. They came to where a curving iron stairway led to the roof, and up this they rushed, exposed to the shots of the police as they came into view.

The Black Star threw his last bomb. The man behind him staggered and fell, but was upon his feet again instantly. He gasped that he had not been wounded, had only tripped on the edge of a step. They reached the little door at the top, threw it open, and dashed out on the roof. The door was slammed behind them, bolted, and barred. The bars constituted another of the Black Star’s preparations against emergencies—his men had affixed them the last thing that evening.

On the other side the police crashed against the little door, fired into it, and then realized that it was a metal, fireproof door, and proof against their bullets. It was another case where axes would be necessary.

It took several minutes to send word down and get axes from below, and then the assault on the door began. They took turns working at it, for this was no easy task. Finally the hinges gave a trifle, and they redoubled their blows, while others behind them got ready to give battle. The word spread below rapidly—the Black Star and one of his men were on the roof, trapped. They would be prisoners or dead soon now. If the police could not get at them through the door, then the fire department would be called, ladders would be raised, and they would be reached that way.

The door gave again; some of the police cheered. With revolvers held ready, they waited for the blow that would hurl the door to the roof and let them through.

The door crashed—and a roaring filled their ears. A gust of wind swept back against them. Something dark showed against the sky. They heard a mocking laugh.

“His aëroplane, curse him!” a sergeant cried in anger. “There he goes!”

Again they heard the laugh. They fired in the air, knowing as they did that their target already was beyond reach. The beating of the aëroplane’s engine grew fainter.

The sergeant stepped to the flagpole at the corner of the roof and took from it a bit of paper that had been fastened there. He read it, then put it in his pocket to give his chief. And this is what he read:

Farewell, gentlemen. You gave me a run for my money to-night, battered up some good men of mine, and took others prisoner, but I have triumphed in the end.

Perhaps you wonder how the aëroplane happened to be here on the roof, where it could not possibly have landed, though it can take off from here. Why, it was carried up from the lodge hall in sections to-night after the building watchmen had been disposed of and my men took charge, and expert mechanics worked hard to assemble it. I had not expected to use it, but found it necessary. It was another emergency for which I was prepared. Always prepare for emergencies and never make mistakes, and you may be successful, like me.

By the way, I am getting away with quite a fortune, and with the place filled with police. Tell that to the papers, and give my respects to Roger Verbeck and Muggs.

*****

“Got away—got away with th’ goods,” the sergeant muttered. “Oh, heavens! What will th’ public say to this? They’ll clean out the department from the chief to th’ office boy!”