“Where does that chimney go?” he asked.
“It is one of those old-fashioned, wide chimneys that run straight up through a house, with stove-hole openings, in every room,” Verbeck answered.
“We’ll just take a look upstairs. You can remain here, Muggs, and keep your eyes open.”
Riley led the way up the broad stairs and he had his automatic clutched in his hand. Dust—everywhere was dust! They searched all the rooms of the second floor, though long search was not needed, for the deep dust on the floors showed no trace of footprints.
“Anything above?” Riley asked.
“Garret—two rooms half finished,” Verbeck announced.
“They made their way up the narrow stairs and raised the trapdoor. The two half-finished rooms were deep with dust also, and cobwebs hung in clusters before stove holes.
“False alarm, I reckon,” Riley said. “But it beats me. You don’t suppose Muggs——”
“I do not,” said Verbeck. “I know Muggs well—he’d not try a trick like that.”
“Humph! Something mighty funny about this! Whoever put those stars on the bread didn’t enter by kitchen door or window, and didn’t go down the chimney from one of these upper floors. Those stars must have been put there by the delicatessen man when you bought the bread. Muggs just didn’t notice them when he unwrapped the loaf—that’s all. It’s the only way they could have got there!”