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 cl.u.s.ters 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!"

They started back down the narrow stairs. As they reached the second floor they heard Muggs' voice, coming to them weakly, as if from a great distance, and with a note of pain in it.

"Boss! Boss!"

Four steps at a time Verbeck took that last flight, with Riley two jumps behind him. They rushed through the living room and into the kitchen. They saw Muggs reeling toward them from the door, staggering toward the table, trying to hold one hand to his head.

"Muggs! Muggs! What is it?" Verbeck cried, grasping him by the arm.

"You're hurt, man! Your head's b.l.o.o.d.y! You--"

"Look! His forehead!" Riley cried.

On Muggs' forehead was a tiny black star!

CHAPTER XIX-SUSPICION

Muggs apparently was making an effort to speak, but could not collect his wits. Blood was flowing from a wound on the back of his head. He staggered again, and would have fallen had not Verbeck helped him to a chair. Riley, preferring effective methods to kindness, grasped a pail of water and dashed the contents of the pail in Muggs' face.

"What happened?" the detective demanded.

Muggs sputtered and spat, and sat more erect.

"I'm-all right now," he gasped.

"Tell us!"

"I-I looked around after you went upstairs-then bent over the stove to arrange the pots. Something smashed me on the head-that's all I know.

I think somebody grabbed me by the coat collar as I started to fall. I woke up and found myself on the floor-and tried to call the boss."

"That's all?" demanded Riley.

"Y-yes."

Detective Riley took charge in this emergency without as much as mentioning the matter to Roger Verbeck. He ran to the rear door and jerked it open, observed that the snow was still innocent of footprints, then put a police whistle to his lips and blew a vigorous blast.

The sergeant came running, one of the men with him.

"Bring your men in closer and watch all sides of the house!" Riley commanded. "Watch the roof, too, particularly the mouth of the chimney!"

The sergeant turned away, shouting his orders. Riley slammed the door shut and whirled toward the stove.

"Into the other room, Roger, and watch the stairs-and have your automatic ready," he said. "In the chimney is the only place a man could be to pull off these stunts, and if he's in the chimney he's going to be smoked out!"

He grasped the paper that had been around the provisions and threw it into the stove. He opened the drafts, and reached for more paper. The stove roared-smoke and flame sprang up into the chimney and through the big hood.

"Watch her, Muggs-more paper when she needs it-and hold your gun ready, man! You're all right?" Riley cried.

"I'll watch 'er!"

Riley sprang into the other room. "Come!" he commanded Verbeck, and ran up the stairs again. Once more they looked into all the rooms on the second floor, and knew that n.o.body had been in any of them. Once more they ascended to the garret and looked into the two half-finished rooms there-and found nothing. Not a track was in the deep dust, not a cobweb had been brushed from a wall.

"What's that door over there?" Riley asked, pointing across one of the rooms.

"Small closet-never used except to store toys in when I was a kid,"

Verbeck answered.

"We'll just-- No use, though! Look at those cobwebs on the doork.n.o.b!

n.o.body in there! This beats me! Let's go down again!"

They retreated down the stairs, and went out on the veranda. No one had come from the house, the sergeant said. Smoke, and even flame, was pouring from the top of the chimney.

"All right, sergeant-return your men to their posts, but keep a close watch," Riley said. "No-there isn't anything much wrong."

The sergeant knew there was, but he knew also that Riley did not talk when he preferred to remain silent. He sent the men back to their posts, and Riley and Verbeck reentered the house and closed the door.

In the kitchen Muggs was still putting paper into the stove, and Riley ordered him to stop.

"If he was in that chimney, he's a dead man," the detective said. "And if he was a dead man, he'd fall and smash that hood to bits. So he isn't in the chimney-and wasn't-and he isn't upstairs in any room-and he didn't enter from outside. We've been dreaming."

"Not much we haven't!" Muggs exclaimed. "Look at this b.u.mp on my head!"

"Then please explain it!" Riley roared. "Explain those stars on the bread and the one between your eyes. I suppose this Black Star has spirits to help him or something like that. Give me an answer!"

"The Black Star," Verbeck observed, "is a smooth article."

"He is," Riley admitted, "when he can smash a man on the head without coming into the house to do it. Ha! The bas.e.m.e.nt!"

There was a door opening into the bas.e.m.e.nt from the kitchen, and it was locked. Moreover, an investigation showed that the bolt had not been shot for some time, for dust and cobwebs were on that bolt and on the door around it. Nevertheless, Riley opened the door, drew out his pocket flash lamp, and descended into the bas.e.m.e.nt with Verbeck at his heels.

The bas.e.m.e.nt was large, but nothing was stored in it now except a small quant.i.ty of fuel. It did not take Riley and Verbeck long to decide no intruder had been in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

"Looks mighty funny to me!" Riley declared. "If that Muggs man of yours is playing tricks--"