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"I can't believe it-I can't!" Verbeck told himself.
He considered Muggs first. He believed in Muggs' loyalty, had received many manifestations of it. Muggs also had entered the first chase of the Black Star with zeal, had in reality effected the crook's capture.
Would he turn traitor now?
There was that affair of the evening before, when Muggs had received the blow on his head. There was the affair of the stars on the bread.
Search had revealed that n.o.body was in the house. Who had put the stars on the bread then, and who had struck down Muggs and stamped his forehead? Had Riley been right? Was Muggs a Black Star man? Had he stamped that bread himself, given himself a wound, and pretended to be badly injured for a time just to carry out the orders of the master criminal?
Then he considered Detective Riley. He would as soon believe Muggs guilty as Riley. His father had been Riley's benefactor. Riley had known him since he was a baby, had taught him how to play baseball, how to swim. Yet in the last few years he had not seen much of Riley, and maybe he had been caught in the net of official graft. Maybe he was no longer honest, save on the surface. Perhaps, angered at last because he had not received the promotion he deserved, he had turned crook and was trading on his reputation for honesty.
Muggs had said Riley had gone out and prowled around the house about midnight. He had a chance, then, to communicate with some agent of the Black Star. That would give the Black Star just about time to write the letter to the paper and have it delivered so that it would reach the newspaper office by two o'clock.
Back and forth, back and forth across the veranda, Roger Verbeck paced, trying to fight down suspicions he did not believe worthy of him. Muggs disloyal? He could not believe it! Riley turned crook? He could not think it!
Yet there was the morning paper. No one but Riley and Muggs had heard those plans. They had been discussed at the table in the center of the living room, with all the doors closed, and they had been discussed in low tones as the three men bent over the table. Why, it was doubtful if a man could have overheard, had he even been in an adjoining room and listening-and Verbeck knew no man had been in an adjoining room.
"I can't believe it!" he told himself again. "Yet here it is-and must be believed! I'll say nothing-I'll just let them read the papers. And I'll watch! If either Riley or Muggs has turned against me, my faith in human nature is gone! Can't I have even one honest ally? Must I fight this master criminal alone?"
Muggs called to him from the doorway, wanting to know whether Verbeck was not cold without his coat. He looked at Muggs. He saw the seamed and wrinkled countenance, the eyes that twinkled kindly, the doglike look of devotion in the face-Muggs, who had fought for him scores of times, who had been willing in some of their adventures to lay down his life for the man who had saved him from the Seine. No-Muggs could not be disloyal!
Detective Riley, then?
CHAPTER XX-THE VOICE ON THE WIRE
At seven o'clock Verbeck ordered Muggs to bed, promising to call him with Riley at ten o'clock. He had kept the morning papers from Muggs, for he had decided to announce the failure of their contemplated trap when both men were facing him.
When snores from the adjoining room told him that Muggs was in a heavy sleep, Verbeck decided to make a tour of the house by himself in an effort to solve the mysteries that had been puzzling him. Automatic held ready, he crept softly up the stairs and examined every room on the second floor, looking at every window and door, but failing to find as much as a track in the dust.
He mounted to the garret once more and peered into the two half-finished rooms there. Then he returned to the first floor and sat down before the table in the living room, trying to think it out. He asked himself again whether Muggs had really put those black stars on the bread and had wounded himself in an effort to make Verbeck believe he had been attacked. What would be the motive? Verbeck shook his head because he could think of none. And had Riley betrayed their contemplated trap? Again he asked himself the motive, and told himself there was none, unless Detective Riley was a member of the Black Star's band and acting under the orders of the master criminal.
He paced the floor, and occasionally went on the veranda, fighting down the belief that either of the men had turned against him, calling upon himself to have faith in them.
Ten o'clock came, and he awoke Riley and Muggs and prepared coffee while they dressed. He put the coffee on the table, with b.u.t.ter and rolls, and scattered the newspapers around. Then, as the two men began eating, he walked to the nearest window and stood looking out over the snow-covered lawn.
Presently there was an exclamation behind him, and he whirled around, to find both Muggs and Riley staring at newspapers as if they could not believe their eyes. Verbeck decided that either they were genuinely surprised, or were good actors.
"Yes," he said before either of the others could speak, "the Black Star knows. It will not be necessary for me to go into town and make arrangements with the jewelers and the chief."
"But--" Riley began, and stopped and looked at the paper again.
"Yesterday afternoon I discussed the matter with Riley," Verbeck went on. "We sat here at the table and talked in ordinary tones. Last evening the three of us discussed it, sitting at the table and speaking softly. I doubt whether a man, had he even been in the bedroom adjoining, could have understood us clearly. Yet the Black Star knows all about it-he knew in time to have that letter reach the newspaper by two o'clock in the morning. I, for one, am certain I did not communicate with the Black Star or any of his crooks."
He turned his back upon them again, and looked through the window.
"But-but--" Riley stammered. "Why, n.o.body except the three of us knew anything about it!"
"Exactly!" said Verbeck.
"Then how-- You don't think I tipped it off in any way?"
"Boss," cried Muggs, "you don't suppose I--"
"I am not thinking, or supposing, anything about it," said Verbeck.
"We are confronted by facts."
"Well, let's consider the matter squarely," Riley offered. "Even if we take it for granted that either Muggs or myself is a member of the Black Star's band, when would either of us have had a chance to betray the plan?"
"You went outdoors and prowled around considerable about midnight,"
Muggs said. "You had a chance then."
"If it comes to that, my impetuous friend, you were alone in the kitchen yesterday afternoon while Roger and I were discussing the matter. You were there when mysterious black stars got stuck on a loaf of bread and when there was an alleged mysterious a.s.sault on your own person committed by somebody who could not have been in the house at the time." Riley showed some anger in his voice.
"You accusin' me?" Muggs demanded.
"You accused me, didn't you?"
Verbeck turned away from the window and walked to the table.
"Suppose we cease all accusations," he said. "I cannot think either of you would do such a thing. Muggs has demonstrated his loyalty to me scores of times. You, Riley, owed your start in life to my father, and have known me since I was a toddling baby. I can't believe either of you guilty of this. And yet-there are the facts. Only we three knew-and the Black Star knew soon afterward. We'll just call this another little mystery added to those that have gone before. Eat your rolls and drink your coffee. We'll not discuss the matter further now."
Riley and Muggs made pretense of eating as Verbeck walked to the door and went out on the veranda again, but for the most part they glared at each other across the table, each suspicious of the other apparently.
The telephone rang, and Verbeck hurried in from the veranda to answer it. It was the chief speaking.
"Everything all right out there?" he asked. "Good! Say, is that right, what the papers say about you planning that trap about the necklace?"
"Yes," Verbeck answered.
"But, how the deuce--"
"I don't know," Verbeck interrupted. "There evidently was a leak somewhere, yet it seems impossible. It's just one of those things that cannot be explained."
"Anything can be explained," the chief declared. "But we'll have to talk of that affair later. I've just had a telephone message from the editor of one of the evening papers. He received a letter from the Black Star through the morning mail. The Black Star says he is going to pull off that big crime of his within twenty-four hours. So get on your toes, you people! I suppose he means to-night."
"What plans have you made?" Verbeck asked.
"Of course, we have no idea what he is going to do. We're having special guards around the largest banks and trust companies. All we can do is to wait for an alarm. When we get it we can rush to the spot and take up the trail. We'll keep in touch with you."
Again there came that peculiar, rattling noise they had heard once before while holding a telephone conversation. Both Verbeck and the chief waited for the voice they knew they would hear.
"h.e.l.lo!" it said. "This is the Black Star! I'm too busy to talk long, so please listen-and do not swear over the wire, chief. I have been listening to your interesting conversation. Make all the preparations you like, chief, but they'll avail you nothing. You'll be sufficiently startled before daybreak to-morrow morning. I will mention, too, that I am going to commit this crime myself, without any aid whatever. As for you, Mr. Roger Verbeck, you will be the laughingstock of the city to-morrow, so prepare to be ridiculed."
"Indeed?" Roger said.
"Another thing, Mr. Verbeck. I know every word you have said to Detective Riley and Muggs this morning. You wrong them, Mr. Verbeck, with your suspicions. I was but waiting for some one to call you up so I could break in and tell you so. You see, if I called myself you might be able to trace the call. Neither of the men, Mr. Verbeck, sent me information regarding the clever trap you proposed. I just simply knew. I know everything! Good-by!"