weak, yet he managed to stagger across the room toward the door.
He went into Verbeck's bedchamber and snapped on the lights. Verbeck was not there. The room was in confusion. Verbeck's clothes, that Muggs had put out for use in the morning, were gone, and his pajamas were on the floor in a corner.
Muggs hurried to the bed. It was there, pasted on the headpiece—a tiny black star!
"If he hurt my boss" Muggs began, almost sobbing.
And then he felt moved to sudden action again. He rushed into the living room and to the telephone. He rattled the hook frantically, and presently heard the operator's reply.
"I want the police!" Muggs cried into the transmitter. "Mr. Verbeck is gone—been taken away!"
"Say! There are a couple of detectives here now to see Mr. Verbeck," the operator replied. "They're coming right up!"
Muggs darted back into his own room and began dressing with such speed that he was almost fully clothed when the officers knocked at the door. Muggs hurried to let them in.
"What's this about Mr. Verbeck?" one of them asked.
"The Black Star's got him!" Muggs cried. "They doped us while we slept, and"
"I guess I can tell you all about that," the detective interrupted. "They put out the night clerk and the telephone operator with those cursed vapor guns."
"And Mr. Verbeck is gone! They must have
