The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler Part 32

Leaving the prisoner's cell, the Bradys hastened from the police station and hastily getting aboard a City Hall train on the elevated road, they went downtown.

"As it takes about three-quarters of an hour to get down to the bridge,"

said Harry, in anxious tones, "I'm afraid we will reach the Astor House too late to prevent the consummation of that diamond sale."

"Well, that depends upon how long it is going to take La Croix and his customer to arrive at a bargain," said Old King Brady, quietly.

He was not very nervous over the matter.

Taking a chew of plug tobacco, he settled back comfortably in his seat, drew a newspaper from his pocket and began to read the news.

Harry watched him restlessly.

The boy was very impatient.

"I can't understand how you can take it so cool," he muttered.

"What's the good of fuming and fretting? It isn't going to hurry us, is it?"

"No. But La Croix may beat us."

"Keep cool. The more you worry, the warmer you'll get."

That ride downtown was torture to Young King Brady, and there wasn't a minute he did not have his watch in his hand and kept counting the minutes as they slipped by.

It was with a deep sense of relief that he saw the train stop at the bridge and he was the first one off the cars.

"Quarter past twelve," he growled, feverishly, "and it will take us five or ten minutes longer to reach the hotel."

"Have patience--" began Old King Brady.

"Can't do it. Let's run, or I'll get wild!"

They made rapid time down Park Row and crossing past the post-office, they hastened into the hotel.

Going to the desk, they asked the clerk:

"Is Mr. Savoy here?"

"Yes. Room 76. Name, please."

"He's a friend. We wish to surprise him. Is he in?"

"Oh, yes. I'll send a boy up with you."

"Anyone call on him to-day?"

"Not a soul."

"Not a soul?" blankly asked Harry.

"Except yourselves," laughed the clerk.

Old King Brady burst into a hearty peal of laughter, but not at what the clerk said, for he was laughing at Harry for being so impatient.

The boy drew a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Thank fortune, we're in time!" he muttered.

"You've had all your stewing for nothing."

"I'm mighty glad of it. His customer must be late."

"All the better for us. This experience will teach you a good lesson in our profession--namely, never to get excited."

"I'll try to profit by it," said Harry, quietly.

Just then a boy came running up and the clerk said:

"Show these gentlemen up to 76--Mr. Savoy's room."

Just as they were about to follow the boy, a tall, thin man, without whiskers, came along and seeing the Bradys, gave a slight start.

The Bradys got a good look at him before he turned his back to them and Harry clutched his companion's arm and whispered:

"By jove, that's Andrew Gibson, the Custom House inspector, in disguise."

"Yes," a.s.sented Old King Brady, nodding, "I recognized him. He knew us, too, I could tell at a glance. That man hates us. I wonder what he is doing here. Can he be after La Croix, too?"

Harry was startled at the very suggestion.

"He knows La Croix is a professional smuggler," he remarked, "and I wouldn't be surprised if he got on to the man living here. He may be trying to nab him as we are doing."

"He won't cheat us out of our prey this way, Harry."

Just then they heard the inspector say to the clerk:

"Send up my card to Mr. Savoy. He expects me. I was to meet him at twelve o'clock on some business, but was detained."

The Bradys darted startled glances at each other.

Gibson's remark exposed his hand.

He was the supposed jeweler with whom La Croix had been negotiating to sell the contraband diamonds.

The Bradys had arrived just in time to prevent this man from cheating them out of their legitimate prey.

Had they been delayed a few minutes longer Gibson would have had La Croix under arrest and the smuggled diamonds in his possession.