The greater part of the afternoon was spent in Verbeck’s apartment discussing plans for the campaign. There was no sense, Riley pointed out, in running blindly around town trying to find the man they wanted; for the Black Star, it was to be supposed, was in hiding for the time being, and without doubt planning a campaign of his own. Detectives were watching railroad stations, hotels, and lodging houses, and the deserted residence where the Black Star had had his headquarters. There was nothing for the three men who sat in Verbeck’s library to do except wait for the master criminal to make the first move.
Roger visited Faustina Wendell for an hour that evening, while Muggs and Riley remained outside in front of the house where she lived with her mother and brother. Then the three returned to Roger’s apartment and spent an hour around the pool table.
“A crook works at night if he’s breaking safes and vaults,” Riley said. “Hence it is proper that we are prepared for night work. I suggest we never retire until four or five o’clock in the morning and get up about noon. Then we’ll be ready to jump if anything happens.”
“Get a deck of cards, Muggs,” Verbeck ordered. “What Detective Riley says goes. By the way, Riley, I’ve ordered the roadster left standing in front of the building all night, ready for a quick jump.”
“That’s the stuff! I wish this Black Star would hurry up and start something. I’m anxious to get into action.”
Tired of cards, they played pool again, and then they read, and then they talked of the Black Star some more, and finally they began wondering if it wasn’t time to retire.
“Just four o’clock,” Verbeck announced.
And then the telephone rang!
Roger stepped across the room to the desk and picked up the instrument; Muggs and Riley were on their feet, eager to know what the message would be, and hoping it was a call to battle.
“Is this Mr. Verbeck’s apartment?” a voice demanded.