"In two weeks possibly. Until then, Muggs, you must be one of us. When I move, I'll have you dropped somewhere in town, and you can tell Verbeck and the newspapers all you saw and heard. You'll be getting your picture on the front page, Muggs."
Again the bell tinkled, and once more a robed and masked man entered and stepped to the blackboard. He gave his number and countersign.
"Report," wrote the Black Star.
"It is as you thought—Verbeck is still after us."
"Anything more about Verbeck?"
"He visited his fiancée this afternoon, and afterward took a taxi and got out at a busy corner. He remained there for some time, and then went home. He acted as if he was waiting for somebody."
"Anything else?"
"Verbeck's roadster is at the resort down the river, and has been there for several hours. We didn't see Verbeck."
"His chauffeur left it there; that is his chauffeur on the couch," the Black Star wrote.
The man at the other blackboard turned and regarded Muggs through the slits in his mask. Muggs knew what that meant. Here was a man who was not acquainted with him, but hereafter he would know Roger Verbeck's chauffeur when he saw him.
"Anything else?" the Black Star wrote again.
"Sheriff Kowen is swearing in more deputies, and some of them are experienced officers who have retired."
"Anything from police headquarters?"
"Nothing, sir, except that the chief is keeping in
