The light truck did not pass Verbeck’s car. It turned into an alley and pulled up behind a garage there. Its driver got out and walked quickly back to the mouth of the alley, and there he peered around the corner of a high fence and down the boulevard. He noticed that the motor cyclist had left his machine and crossed the street and was approaching Verbeck’s roadster. He saw the man who had been driving the runabout walking slowly from the other direction.
The driver of the truck chuckled lightly to himself and remained at the mouth of the alley in the shadows, watching.
[CHAPTER XXVI—A MAN OF MYSTERY]
Muggs, crouched down behind the wheel, watched the fine rain beat against the wind shield of the roadster, and hoped he would not have to remain in that position of inaction for long.
He observed a man approaching along the sidewalk, a man who glanced at the apartment houses as if seeking a certain one. Directly opposite the roadster this man stopped, looked around for an instant, and then hurried over to Muggs.
“Know where the Albemarle Apartments might be?” he asked.
“They might be almost any place, but I’ve got an idea you’ll find them in the middle of the next block,” Muggs replied. “It’s a big, white, brick building.”
“Thanks,” the other growled.
He turned away—and as quickly turned back again. Reflection from the light on the corner flashed from something he held in his hand. A small cloud of vapor rushed at Muggs’ face. Muggs gasped, and his head fell forward.
Instantly the other man sprang into the roadster, lifted the unconscious form of Muggs from the driver’s seat, and placed it in the rear seat, afterward throwing a robe over it. Then he took Muggs’ place behind the wheel, crouched forward, waiting.