The Black Star's man darted through the corridor and went softly down the rear stairs. He made his way through the hall toward the front. He knew where the light switch was located; he had found this out several days before, when preparing for this night's events.
He reached the switch, jerked it down, and plunged the lower floor in darkness. He darted forward as he heard the exclamations of the six men in front. He dropped behind a statue just as one of the policemen flashed his electric torch.
"Fuse out, I suppose," he heard one of the guards say. "I'll get the engineer—he attends to all that stuff."
He hurried toward the basement entrance. The man at the front door merely shouted to know what was the matter, and remained at his post.
The five others were clustered about the card table. The Black Star's man crept forward and took a vapor bomb from beneath his coat. This was the perilous moment, he knew. This particular bomb was a delicate one that would make no noise as it exploded. But unless the vapor struck into the nostrils of the five men, disaster might come. If one of them escaped unconsciousness for a moment, he would be able to give the alarm.
Another bomb came from beneath the coat. The first one was hurled to the marble floor at the back of the five men. The second followed it.
Clouds of vapor arose. The Black Star's man held a sponge to his nostrils, flashed his torch and watched. It had worked—the five men were staggering—had fallen!
He had swift work to do now. At any moment
