MORE MYSTERY
Police headquarters was thrown into a turmoil for the second time that
night when the chief received the master criminal's telephone message.
Roger Verbeck and Muggs rushed for the roadster, sprang in, and drove
like mad through the streets toward the National Trust Company's
building.
The chief shrieked his orders, officers tumbled into department
automobiles, and followed Verbeck. They reached their destination, and
sprang out. Verbeck already had ascertained that the front doors of the
bank were locked and bolted. He rushed around to the alley, followed by
Muggs, the chief, and a dozen officers. A detective hurried to telephone
Sheriff Kowen.
The basement door was open, and they rushed inside. They found the
watchman bound and gagged--he was a member of the Black Star's band, but
they needed him again, and so made the attempt to remove all suspicion.
"The Black Star!" he gasped when they had removed the gag and bonds. "He
was here with his gang! They carried out gold--went away in autos
and----"
Verbeck had rushed on to the vault room. The chief and some of the
others followed. They found the door of the vault standing open, money
scattered on the floor, papers in confusion.
"He cleaned out all the big stuff!" the chief said. "One of you men
telephone the president of the trust company and tell him to hurry down
here."
"Here's the letter he mentioned, chief," Verbeck said.
The chief ripped it open and read it, then thrust it into one of his
pockets. As he turned away, there was a sharp explosion in the street,
then a bedlam of shrieks and cries. They rushed to a window and threw it
open.
"Bomb!" somebody in the street was shouting. "It came from the roof!"
"One of that crook's gas bombs!" the chief exclaimed. "On the roof, is
he?"
Verbeck already was running toward the stairs, with Muggs just behind
him, determined to be in the midst of the affair. Muggs had been
complaining again that he was not playing a principal part in this
drama, and that he felt he was entitled to one.
Half a dozen officers took after them, the chief bellowed orders and
posted guards throughout the bank. He sent other men to the floors above
to release the watchmen. And then he followed Roger Verbeck, running up
the stairs, puffing and panting, wishing that the elevator was running.
They came to the little steel stairs that led to the trapdoor and the
roof. Verbeck tried to open the door, and found that it was fastened on
the outside.
"Either the Black Star or some of his men are up there!" Verbeck said.
"The door wouldn't be locked on the outside, otherwise."
One of the detectives had procured a fire ax from the hall on the floor
below. He ran up the steel stairs and attacked the heavy door
vigorously. The chief sent a man for another ax.
More officers had come up the stairs now, and stood at the bottom of the
steel steps, waiting for the trapdoor to be opened.
"As soon as we get through, rush up there and go at them," the chief
directed. "We don't know how many are up there, so be ready to mix it!
Shoot, if you have to, but get him alive if you can. And look out for
vapor guns and gas bombs!"
"Somebody on the roof is asking for you, chief!" the man with the ax
called down.
The chief hurried up the steps. "Well, who is it?" he demanded.
"This is the Black Star. Can't you recognize my voice? Still practicing
violence, I see, and this time on a door!"
"Well, what do you want?" the chief cried. "Do you want to give yourself
up?"
"Certainly not, my dear chief. I just wanted to let you know that I was
here."
"And we're going to get you!" the chief cried. "If it is necessary we'll
get you with a gun! If you start using that vapor stuff when we get the
door open, my men will shoot. Understand that? I'll give you one minute
to surrender and open the door!"
"Why on earth should I do such a thing as that?" the Black Star wanted
to know.
"Because you are at the end of your rope, that's why!" the chief
replied. "If you try to go down a fire escape, you'll be plugged. And
that's the only way you can get off the roof."
"I have no intention of going down a fire escape," the Black Star
replied. "I give you my word of honor--or dishonor, if you prefer it
that way--that I shall descend no fire escape to-night. Does that
satisfy you?"
"Are you going to give yourself up?"
"Dear me, no! I couldn't think of it. I have had a very pleasant
evening, chief--very pleasant indeed--and profitable, also. By the way,
did you get your letter?"
An exasperated chief descended the steps and motioned for the detective
to go to work with the ax again. The heavy blows began raining against
the door. Between them, they could hear the Black Star laughing.
"Get through that door!" the chief shrieked. "We've got him in a trap!"
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," said Roger Verbeck. "He seemed to
speak with confidence."
"But how can he get away?"
"The Black Star used to be noted for doing some peculiar and seemingly
impossible things," Verbeck reminded the chief.
"I want to be the second man through that door!" Muggs said. "I got it
comin' to me, boss. You ain't let me do a thing to-day, and I want to
get my hands on that big crook!"
"That's what we all want to do," the chief remarked. "Get ready, men;
that door will be open in a minute!"
The detective had succeeded in cutting a hole in it. Now he put his face
close to the aperture and looked out. He could see nothing but darkness.
Cautiously, he extended a hand and felt for the bolt, located it, shot
it back. He whispered the news to those behind him. The officers crowded
the steel stairs, and Muggs got well in the van. Muggs declined to be
sidetracked longer.
The detective threw the door open, and they stumbled up the steps and to
the roof, their weapons held ready, to dart to either side, expecting a
shot, or a vapor bomb at least.
Their electric torches flashed, and the roof was bathed in light. There
was nothing behind which a person could hide, except two chimneys. The
officers approached the chimneys, carefully, ready for instant combat.
They circled them--and found nobody.
"He's here--got to be here!" the chief cried.
They rushed to all the fire escapes and found that nobody was on them.
They shouted to officers in the street below, and were told that the
fire escapes had not been used. They searched every square foot of the
roof, looked along the parapet, found nobody.
"I tell you that crook's got to be here!" the chief shouted. "How could
he get away?"
"Airplane," one of the detectives suggested.
"Don't be an ass!" the chief shrieked. "An airplane makes a lot of
noise. And it wouldn't be easy to pick up a man from a roof in the dark,
you fool! The only way it could be done would be to trail a rope and let
him grab it, and that would mean a dead man on the pavement below. You
ass, an airplane travels with speed!"
"Well, he doesn't seem to be here," Verbeck offered.
"But where could he have gone?" the chief cried. "Even the Black Star
can't make himself invisible at will!"
Then they heard the Black Star laugh derisively.
They flashed their torches and again searched the roof. Once more they
heard the laugh. Now it seemed to be to one side of them, and now to
another. Above them, behind them, in front of them they heard it.
"This thing will drive me crazy!" the chief cried. "Flash those torches
again! That crook is somewhere right here on the roof! Look for another
trapdoor!"
They searched the roof, and found nothing; but again they heard the
laugh, only it sounded far away now. Suddenly the roof was bathed in
bright light that seemed to come out of the sky.
"He's up there--on something!" the chief shrieked.
They emptied their revolvers and automatics toward the sky. The light
died out, flashed forth again and almost blinded them. Once more they
heard the sarcastic laugh of the Black Star, as if far in the
distance--and then the light was gone.
They stood silent, looking upward. Not the slightest sound came to their
ears, except echoes of the shouts in the street below, where people were
wondering about the peculiar, blinding light.
"What does it mean?" the chief cried. "Verbeck, what has that devil
done?"
"I haven't the faintest idea," Roger Verbeck replied. "I don't
understand that laugh, and I can't imagine where that light comes from.
I'd think naturally, that it was an airplane, but, as you said, it would
be almost impossible to pick a man off the roof at night--and an
airplane makes a lot of noise. And we didn't hear a sound--remember
that!"
Once more the voice of the Black Star reached their ears. He seemed to
be shouting to them, and to be not so very far away.
"Good night, gentlemen!" he called to them. "It has been a splendid
evening of amusement and profit. Good night--and let me express the hope
that you'll have pleasant dreams!"
That was all. Though they waited on the roof for half an hour longer,
they heard nothing more from him, saw nothing of him, and finally they
turned and went back down the stairs, puzzled, angry, but determined to
make the master rogue pay.