The Branniton residence was surrounded by wide lawns studded with big maple trees. Here and there were dark spaces not reached by the lights from either the house or the street. Two blocks away was a small park.
At nine thirty o'clock several men approached this park singly, each acting as if he was going about his business or hurrying to his home. They followed the walks, and now and then they passed and whispered a few words to one another.
More men happened to walk through the alley in the rear of the Branniton house. Some of these men had bundles beneath their arms. There was a door in the alley wall, and before it was a caterer's wagon. Men were carrying refreshments into the house.
At one of the corners of the residence, in the rear, there was a small veranda that was shrouded in darkness. While the caterer's men were carrying in the provisions, several of the other men, who had been in the alley, slipped through the door and sought the dark veranda. Crouched there, they waited.
Here and there a shadow flitted across the lawn from dark spot to dark spot—but the shadows were men. A big limousine stopped on a side street half a block away, the shades drawn at all its windows. A truck stalled on the other side street, apparently, and four men in it worked at the engine. Finally one left, saying he would telephone for help.
Across the avenue from the Branniton residence a crowd had gathered to watch the guests arrive, muttering when two police officers urged them to move on. In the crowd were several men who gave one another knowing looks now and then.
The last guests arrived. The hour of ten struck. Inside the Branniton house the orchestra was playing and couples were dancing. Mrs. Richard Branniton was beaming upon her guests, and her husband was seeking to make an impression upon Sir Burton Banks and Lord Sambery. Branniton had hopes of receiving an important diplomatic post abroad.
As the hour of ten struck, the men beside the dark rear veranda unfastened the bundles they had been carrying, and put on black robes and masks. More men approached the house from the other side, keeping in the shadows, and when they reached the darkness near the wall put on robes and masks.
At ten minutes after the hour of ten, thirty men had gathered beside the dark veranda, and fifteen more were scattered near the house, on guard. In the midst of these thirty men, the Black Star suddenly appeared.
"I want no mistakes!" he whispered. "Is every man in his proper place?"