“Half a dozen, I suppose.”
“But never paid particular attention to me, did you?”
“I never had a chance particularly, as I always saw you under conditions of excitement.”
“That was one bad mistake you made. You should know me when you meet me face to face.”
“I know that, all right, but you haven’t answered my question—how did you get here so quickly, and alone? How did you know where my headquarters was?”
“Naturally, since I was out to get you, I just discovered that.”
“One of my men turned traitor, I suppose.”
“Indeed, no. I did it all by my own little self, Mr. Black Star. I said six months ago that I could get you, and you dared me to try. You went right ahead with your crimes, and you made a fool of me on several occasions. You always prepared for every possible emergency; that was it. You never made a mistake. You went ahead on your thieving way, and I told you that no criminal could be successful for always, no matter how brainy a man, and that some day you’d make a mistake. You’ve made one—and now you’re going to pay for it. For you’re going to jail from here, Mr. Black Star. I’m going to see you in the prisoner’s dock, as I swore I should. And I’m going to follow you to the doors of the penitentiary, and see them close behind you. You have to pay for your career of crime. Every criminal must pay! He may succeed for a time, but in the end he pays! He can’t dodge the law of compensation.”
“I’m not in jail yet, Mr. Verbeck.”
“You’ll be there soon. I notice you are slipping your foot along the floor. I presume you are looking for the button that throws a trap and opens a pit beneath where I am standing. Might as well give up. I found that trap several hours ago and wrecked the spring. Oh, I’ve got you this time, Mr. Black Star!”