Johnston McCulley

“ Muggs was small in size, but he had great strength in his arms and shoulders, and possessed knowledge of a multitude of tricks to aid him in the art of self-defense or aggression. He worshiped Roger Verbeck. He was ready at any time to fight for Verbeck, to defend his life and his happiness. The fact that the Black Star had caused his master misery was enough to make Muggs want to throttle the man. ”

“ Verbeck pain!” he exclaimed. “Killing’s too good for you! I hope you get a life sentence. But he’s got you, Mr. Black Star! My boss has you! Have your little signs pasted on his bed and all over his library, will you? Leave sassy letters for him, eh? I reckon you’re sorry for it now!”
The Black Star still was smoking the cigar Verbeck had given him. He blinked at Muggs, and puffed at the cigar furiously, then suddenly bent forward and bowed his head on his hands.
“That’s right!” Muggs went on. “Think of your sins! Do a little wailing yourself! ”

“ It was boasting that had brought him to the close attention of Roger Verbeck and caused all the trouble.
“My hunch—was right,” Muggs muttered. “I told the boss—that I had a hunch!”
He sat up again; the dizziness had passed, but his head still pained. He must act quickly, he kept telling himself over and over. Then the plan for which he had been groping flashed into his brain.
Muggs sprang to the telephone and called police headquarters. He got the chief on the wire.
“The Black Star has escaped!” he cried. “You’ll get his gang down at the dance, but you’ll not get him unless you hurry. ”