Verbeck was thinking of the scene at the big hall as he drove his roadster out to the old place again shortly after ten o’clock that night. He had intended going to the old house earlier, but had been delayed in carrying out his plans. And now everything was done—there was nothing more to do except await the appointed hour, call police headquarters, ascertain that the members of the Black Star’s band were in jail, and then turn over the Black Star himself. He would have a good excuse to escape the plaudits of the police and reporters at headquarters—he would have to hurry to the big hall to dance with his fiancée and escort her to her home.
The gates were open, and Verbeck sent the car through and along the driveway, and brought it to a stop where it would be shielded by the corner of the house from the swirling snow.
When he entered the living room, the Black Star was sitting on the divan in the corner, and Muggs was pacing back and forth before him, still preaching on the merits of an honest existence as compared to a life of thievery.
“Everything is lovely, boss,” he reported to Verbeck. “This gent has been getting restless, but he hasn’t made a move he shouldn’t. I’ve been hoping he would—I haven’t taken a pot shot at a man in ages.”
“We’ll have no carnage, Muggs,” said Verbeck, laughing. “We want to hand him over entire, not in pieces. Give me that pistol, and I’ll watch the gentleman while you untie his hands and fasten them again in front instead of behind his back. I’m going to give him a cigar to smoke; he’ll need it to quiet his nerves.”
Muggs did as he was ordered, and the Black Star accepted the cigar with good grace and puffed at it with evident enjoyment.
“Do we call the police now, boss?” Muggs asked.
“Not yet, Muggs.”
“You and I have done a lot of things, boss, in all corners of the world,” he said in a whisper, so the Black Star could not hear. “When you feel that you can’t hold in any longer, you make me stop being a valet, and let me be a comrade, and we go out after adventure. It’s always been all right. But, about this thing—— Boss, I told you I had a hunch.”
“I’m afraid your hunch isn’t working well this time, Muggs. The thing has been accomplished. I’m merely waiting here until the police make a move I requested them to make, and then we’ll surrender the Black Star. It hasn’t been so very much of an adventure, after all, has it, old man? There hasn’t been much excitement—not what we call excitement.”