"Muggs, we're doing all that we can!" the chief protested.
"What are you doin'? Yellin' over the telephone to a bunch of cops and havin' them run around in circles?"
"But we can't do anything else!" the chief cried. "All we can do is"
The bell of his telephone rang. The chief whirled around and took down the receiver.
"Hello!" he cried.
"Hello!" a man's voice answered. "Well, well, it is some time since I had the pleasure of speaking to you over a telephone wire, chief."
"Who is this?" the chief cried. "We're pretty busy here to-night, and"
"I suppose that is all my fault. Don't you recognize my voice? I am the Black Star!"
"Oh, are you?" the chief shouted. "Well, you put one over on Sheriff Kowen, but we'll pick you up before long!"
"You think so?" the Black Star asked, laughing.
"I know it, you crook! We'll get you, and we'll get the men and women of that gang of yours!"
"Well, well! You are talking violently, chief—but you always were inclined to violence."
"I'll be violent enough when I get my hands on you, all right!"
"And I just called you up to give you some information. Are you concerned about Roger Verbeck? One of my men reported a few minutes ago that you were. You see, I am keeping in touch with you, chief. I know every order you issue, every plan you make."
"What about Verbeck?"
