down at the end of the long table again. A man entered with a tray containing luncheon, and the Black Star removed his mask and ate. The servant was a member of the old organization, and took part in no crimes—it was not necessary for the Black Star to wear a mask in his presence.
Having eaten, the master criminal stretched himself on a couch in one corner of the room, and slept. It was dusk when he awakened. He ate again, and as he finished the little bell on the wall jangled. The Black Star put on his mask, and touched a button.
The robed and masked man who entered was small. He went directly to the blackboard.
"Number Sixteen," he wrote.
"Countersign?"
"Providence."
"Report!"
"First National received shipment of currency to-day as expected," the other wrote.
"What amount?"
"Three hundred thousand."
"What else have you to report?"
"One of the watchmen is our man, and he will attend to the other. Number Twenty has investigated the vault, and reports that he can open it in twelve or fifteen minutes."
"How about transportation?" the Black Star wrote.
"One limousine and three closed autos; all has been arranged."
"Good!" the Black Star wrote. "That is all—except I want no mistakes made to-night."
The other man left the room. The master criminal touched a bell button, and the servant entered.
