from the hook, and put his lips close to the transmitter.
"Number?" asked the girl at central.
"Police headquarters—quick!"
It seemed to him that he waited an eternity before the voice of the desk sergeant came to him over the wire.
"Robbery!" he gasped. "Black Star's men!"
"Where, man—where?" demanded the sergeant.
The watchman gave the address.
"This is one of the watchmen," he added. "The gas bomb didn't put me out, and I managed to crawl to the office. Hurry—hurry! They are in the diamond room now—I don't know how many of them! But hurry!"
Then the old watchman sank into the chair before the desk, weak and trembling. He had done his part, and he could not do more. He took out his revolver, and tried to decide whether he should attack them. It would be better, he thought, to wait until the police came—they would not be long.
Up in the diamond room the Black Star's men had opened the vault door, finally. They reached for three certain trays, and swept the diamonds from them. They had orders what to get and what to leave—the master rogue wanted only some stones recently received, one hundred superior stones upon which a high valuation had been placed by experts.
With the gems in their pockets, they left the diamond room and closed the door behind them. They started down the hall to meet the men who had remained on guard.
And suddenly they heard police sirens shrieking,
