CHAPTER XXII—ON THE SCENT
“He’s done it! He said he’d make me a laughingstock—and he’s done it!”
Verbeck’s exclamation brought them to their senses. They stepped through the door.
There was a blanket, a*****e of provisions, a telephone that they knew without examination had been connected with the one in the living room below, and the end of the dictograph wire.
Fastened to the telephone were several sheets of paper. Verbeck tore them away, and while Muggs and Riley held their torches he read in a low voice the Black Star’s message:
“Mr. Roger Verbeck: I am assuming you have answered the call of the damsel and have followed the wire. The snow is somewhat deeper than when the wire was stretched by me, and possibly you have been put to some inconvenience, but it was necessary, I assure
