CHAPTER II
A SHOCK FOR THE CITY
The deputies sent forth by Sheriff Kowen did their work well, andwithout experiencing much difficulty. Their investigations wereconcluded before nightfall, and the sheriff rubbed his hands together inglee when he received their reports.
At eleven o'clock that night, he sat at his desk and answered telephonecalls. At a certain place near the gambling house his men had gathered.Kowen knew from experience that it did not do to have them meet at hisoffice or the county jail. There always was somebody watching, and anyunusual activity would cause a warning to be flashed to every resortthat had reason to expect a raid.
"It's all right, boss," one of his deputies telephoned. "We've been onthe watch since eight o'clock. There are about thirty men in the placenow, and more coming all the time. They're pretty bold about it--feelsafe, I reckon."
"That's because they've been getting away with it for a few months," thesheriff replied. "We'll make 'em sick before morning."
He finished smoking his cigar; then left the office and walked down thestreet to the corner, as he always did at that hour of the night. Thatwas to make things appear natural, if anybody happened to be watching.He waited for a surface car, got aboard, and started home. At a certaincorner, he alighted in order to transfer to another line.
But Sheriff Kowen did not use his transfer to-night. He made sure thatnobody was watching him, and then darted down a side street. He pulledhis hat over his eyes, bent his shoulders forward, and walked rapidlydown the broad avenue toward the exclusive residential section of thecity.
He had a mile to walk. He covered three fourths of it at a good pace,and then slowed down and became more alert. He passed another man on acorner.
"All right, boss," the man whispered.
"All right!" Sheriff Kowen answered.
Kowen went on up the street. He stopped in a dark spot beneath anoverhanging tree, and looked at a house in the middle of the block. Heknew the property; it belonged to an old estate, and was handled by awell-known real estate firm. For years it had been without a tenant. Theinvestigation made by the deputies during the afternoon had resulted inthe information that it had been repaired and leased some three monthsbefore to strangers in the city, but people who had exhibited goodreferences.
It was some distance away from the other residences, and the lot wasbordered by a high hedge, except in front. It was an ideal location fora fashionable gambling resort.
As Kowen watched, he saw a young man saunter down the street, hesitate amoment, then enter the gate and hurry toward the house.
"Another victim!" Kowen told himself.
Now one of his deputies approached him, keeping in the shadows as muchas possible.
"Well?" Kowen snapped.
"Almost forty men in there, boss," the deputy reported.
"All our crowd ready?"
"Yes."
"What time is it?"
"Quarter after twelve. I looked at my watch as I walked under the lightat the corner."
"Let's get in action then," Kowen said. "I don't want any slips, now. Iwant to gather in the whole lot. Got the autos ready?"
"They're ready, boss, waiting down the street a couple of blocks."
"Signal them up, and we'll begin."
The deputy hurried away. Sheriff Kowen crossed the street, turned inthrough the gate, and blew a whistle.
On every side, deputies rushed toward the house, surrounding itimmediately. Kowen ran up the steps and knocked at the door. An aperturewas opened, a face peered out, there was an exclamation, and theaperture was closed again.
"Into it!" Kowen cried.
Deputies ran forward with axes and attacked the heavy door. The door atthe rear was attacked in the same manner. Some of the men guarded theentrance to the basement, others watched the windows closely.
The front door crashed down, and the officers poured into the house.From the second floor came a chorus of cries and shrieks. The lights hadbeen extinguished, and electric torches flashed.
"Watch those stairs!" Kowen cried. "Some of you clean out thebasement--I want the entire crowd! I'll go above!"
They made their way to the head of the stairs, smashed through anotherdoor, flashed their torches, found the light switch and turned it. Thebig room was bathed in light.
Sheriff Kowen smiled grimly as he surveyed the scene. He saw faro androulette layouts, poker tables, almost every gambling device known. Sometwo score of men in evening dress were crouching against the walls. Aglance was enough to tell the sheriff the customers and the dealers. Heslapped his hands together.
"Round 'em up!" he ordered.
His deputies sprang to obey. One by one, the men in the room weremanacled, despite their protests. When Sheriff Kowen raided a gamblinghouse, he did not do things by halves.
A crowd had collected in the street by now. The automobiles Kowen hadordered were before the house, ready to receive their loads ofprisoners. Kowen received reports from deputies who had searched theplace from cellar to garret. He detailed men to guard the house and thegambling apparatus it contained, and then the parade began.
The parade was always a big moment with Kowen. He stood at the curb andwatched the prisoners pass him and go to the automobiles. He enjoyed thelooks of wrath, of fear in the faces of these callow youths. Some ofthem he knew, but a very few. For the most part, the prisoners seemed tobe strangers to him, but that did not bother Kowen. The city was a largeone; a new crop of victims appeared every week, the sheriff knew.
The prisoners were driven to the county jail and taken into the office.Kowen informed them as to the charges, and announced that bail would beone hundred dollars in each case, except that of the proprietor of theplace. The jailer and bookkeeper got ready.
It was then that Sheriff Kowen got his first surprise. With theexception of the proprietor, none of his prisoners would furnish bail.The arrest was an outrage, they declared. They had been informed thatthe ordinance against gambling was unconstitutional. They were going tojail, going to fight the case, and then sue for damages. They'd showSheriff Kowen and his men that citizens had rights that should berespected.
"Are you a bunch of lunatics?" Kowen cried. "Don't you worry about thatgambling law--we've convicted many a man on it, men who had coin tofight their cases, too. And let me tell you men something--if you gointo cells, your right names go down on the blotter. They'll go into thenewspapers, too; and the people of this city will know just who the menare who smash laws and waste money!"
"We're not worrying any about that stuff!" one of the prisoners toldhim.
"Then you'll be searched and slammed into cells, believe me! And you'llbe treated like ordinary prisoners. I have a faint idea that you'll bedead willing to put up bail by noon. These cells of mine are notcomfortable suites. And you'll miss your baths and grapefruit in themorning, and your thin toast! Well?"
None made reply. Kowen glanced around the room at them, and then anangry flush came into his face. He had half a dozen deputies there, andthe night jailer and the bookkeeper. He had let the other deputies go,thinking this would be like other raids, that the prisoners would put upbail immediately or telephone for it, and hurry to their homes.
"Line up against that wall!" he commanded. "If you are so eager to go tojail, we can accommodate you, all right. The jailer will search you."
The jailer appeared before the first man, who started taking things fromhis pockets. Sheriff Kowen turned his back and started for his privateoffice in disgust. Newspapermen were waiting there for him, and thesheriff did not dislike publicity.
Then something strange happened!
With the exceptions of the few men known to the sheriff, every prisonerdrew something from his pocket. Something seemed to crash against thefloor. There was a series of sharp explosions, and the office and roomsadjoining were filled with clouds of white, pungent smoke.
The jailer opened his mouth to shout a warning, and toppled over on thefloor without having spoken. Here and the
re the deputies were dropping,none of them having time to get out a revolver and fire a shot. SheriffKowen rushed in from his private office to have a cloud of the pungentvapor strike him full in the face. The newspaper reporters suffered alike fate.
The prisoners were holding tiny sponges to their nostrils, and now theysprang into action. Some rushed to the street door and locked and barredit. Others drew the shades at the windows. One searched the jailer andgot his keys, and hurried toward the door leading into the corridor.
This door was opened. Four of the prisoners rushed down the aisle andcame to a certain cell. Inside it a man was sitting on a bunk.
"Good work!" he exclaimed.
The door of the cell was unlocked, and the man stepped out. He led theway back to the office, glanced around it quickly.
"Everything done?" he asked.
"Everything done, sir," one of the men replied.
"Let's go, then!"
The street door was unlocked. Around the corner came half a dozenautomobiles. They were filled, and darted away, scattering as they cameto the first street corner.
* * * * *
Sheriff Kowen groaned and opened his eyes. One of his deputies was justregaining consciousness. The sheriff tried to get to his feet.
"What--what----" he began.
"They're all gone--jail door's open," the deputy gasped.
"It----I know! Vapor bombs!" Kowen cried. "More Black Star work!Quick--look----"
Kowen had managed to get to his feet now, and was rushing into thecorridor of the jail. More deputies were regaining consciousness. Thesheriff pushed past them and ran down the corridor. They heard him cryout.
"Gone--gone!" he shrieked. "The Black Star has escaped! It was all atrick--that woman, the gambling joint--a trick to get all those men inhere so they could do their work----"
"Here's a note in the cell!" a deputy cried.
The sheriff took it and ran back to the office. One of the deputiesalready was telephoning police headquarters and relating the story. TheBlack Star had been rescued! The supercriminal who had been tried andconvicted, who was to start for the State prison on the following day,had made his escape!
On the brow of each unconscious man left behind by the band there hadbeen pasted a tiny black star--the criminal's mark. There was a row ofthem on the blotter-sheet. They were on the walls, on the casements.
The reporters rushed for telephones. Here was news that would startlethe city in the morning. Was the town in for another reign of crime?Would the notorious Black Star merely make good his escape, or did hehave plans perfected? Was his band reorganized? Would he take vengeancefor his arrest and incarceration?
The note found in the cell supplied the answer. Sheriff Kowen read itquickly:
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
Did you think for an instant that the Black Star would go to prison to serve twenty years? It was a very clever rescue, was it not? And for the months I have been held in jail, for the strain and worry of my trial, I am going to make the city pay. My organization is more perfect than before. My plans have been well made. The city shall pay--pay--pay! And tell that fool of a Roger Verbeck, who was instrumental in catching me before, that he will be helpless this time. I defy him even to find the location of my headquarters.
* * * * *
All the telephones were busy now. The pungent odor that had come fromthe vapor bombs had blown out of the room. Word was being flashed overthe city that the Black Star had been rescued by his band, and that hehad promised a wave of crime to pay for his incarceration.
Nobody doubted that such would be the case. The city knew well that theBlack Star always made good his boasts. Nobody doubted that hisorganization was greater than it had been before, and that clever planshad been made.
The Black Star, they had reason to suppose, would not wait very longbefore striking, for that was not his nature. The city faced the greatquestion:
Where would the Black Star strike first?
Black Star's Campaign: A Detective Story Page 2
