The man backed through the door and closed it after him.
"You're goin' to run against a snag," Muggs told the Black Star. "You're bitin' off more than you can chew, and it's likely to choke you!"
"I scarcely think so, Muggs. This little affair is so well planned that there can be no failure. It is the master stroke of my career. It will add to my fame, and, at the same time, it will be highly profitable. When the news gets out, the country will be shocked."
"You go to monkeyin' with the government, and you'll get yours!" Muggs told him again. "Them gents are guests of the government, ain't they?"
"I should think that they were, Muggs. They are here on very important international business. I may mention that it is so important that I expect to collect the ransom within forty-eight hours. I understand there are certain negotiations pending, and that there can be no delay."
The Black Star sat down at the end of the table and began consulting his memorandum book again, completely ignoring Muggs, who remained sitting on the couch. Muggs' hands were lashed together, and he knew that he was being watched continually. And yet he felt that he had a duty to perform.
"I ain't helpin' the boss at all," Muggs mused. "I tried to, once, and I fell down. If this big crook puts that over to-night, it'll make the boss a bigger laughingstock than before. Gee, I wish I could do somethin'!"
Verbeck was wishing the same thing late that afternoon. When it came to locating the new headquarters of the master crook, the police and deputies admitted that they did not know which way to turn.
Meanwhile the city was in terror. The Black Star had said that he would strike to-night—and strike hard. Banks and financial institutions were sending in frantic demands that they be given adequate police protection. Jewelry establishments were doing the same. Private detective agencies were swamped with orders for operatives. From one end of the city to the other, men and women asked the question, where would the Black Star strike?
Mrs. Richard Branniton was not thinking of the master rogue. She was busy entertaining her distinguished guests. Luncheon had been served, and they were being shown the city. Then they returned to the Branniton residence, and sought their suites to get some rest before the reception of the evening.