CHAPTER XVII.
RECOVERING THE DIAMONDS.
When Harry ran from La Croix's room, he passed Andrew Gibson in the hall,and smiled when he thought of the man's coming surprise.
Racing downstairs, the boy made inquiries at the different entrances to thehotel, for information about the girl smuggler.
A man had seen her go out the Vesey street door.
As he was interested in her pretty face, he watched her a few moments andhad seen her go hurrying over to Broadway.
She had kept on the west side of the street and was evidently goingdowntown on foot in the dense crowd thronging the street.
With this meagre clew to follow, Harry hurried away.
"She had the gems," he muttered. "Perhaps she had an idea of selling themquick to raise money to aid her parents, both of whom she now knows are introuble. She's a wise girl, and must certainly know that she would behelpless to aid them without money. Money will give her power. It'spossible, therefore, that she's heading for the jewelry district, which isnear by. As the street is crowded with vehicles and she'd have to cross toreach Maiden Lane or John street, she must have gone over under theprotection of a policeman. He would remember her and might post me. I'lltry all the big cops from here down to Wall street, if necessary."
Harry knew that the largest part of the time of these officers was spent atescorting people across the crowded street.
He therefore began with the policeman at Fulton street, giving him anaccurate description of Clara, but the officer had not seen her.
On the corner of Dey street he met with the same result.
At Cortlandt street he gained a clew.
The officer there had piloted a girl over who answered her description andsaid she had gone down the Lane on the north side.
Harry hastened down the great jewelry center.
He scrutinized every one he met.
As a general rule, excepting girls who are employed in the business housesof the downtown section of the city, but few females frequent the sidestreets.
In fact, so few pass through these streets, that when they do, they arenoticed by the numerous boys and business men thereabouts.
Harry was relying upon this curious, but true fact, to gain some news ofthe girl he was pursuing.
He therefore did not hesitate to ask everyone with whom he came in contactif they had seen such a girl as Clara was.
In some cases he received a negative answer, while in others, not a fewpeople admitted they had noticed her.
According to the latter information, he traced her to Nassau street, and anItalian apple vender with a push-cart near the corner, said he had seen herturn the corner and proceed toward John street.
Following up this clew, Harry met a man standing near the window of ahaberdasher's store who asserted that he had seen such a person go throughJohn street toward Broadway.
He averred that she had gone into a building near the corner and pointedout the place to the young detective.
When Harry reached the building in question, he paused and studied thebusiness men's signs in the doorway.
One in particular attracted his attention, worded this way:
"Cliquot & Co., Diamonds, Second Floor Front."
A curious smile flitted over the young detective's face and he passed intothe narrow hall and ascended the stairs muttering:
"I wonder if she's in there?"
In the upper hall he saw the name of the dealer in precious stones, paintedon the ground-glass window.
Harry opened the door and strode in.
He found himself in a small office containing two huge Herring safes,guarded with burglar alarm cabinets. A long table covered with blue clothserved as a counter. Near the front windows was a bookkeeper working at hisdesk. At the rear a small compartment was partitioned off to serve as aprivate office.
A fat little Frenchman was behind the counter, but Harry did not see anysigns of Clara La Croix.
A feeling of disappointment overcame him.
The salesman bowed, looked at him inquiringly, and asked politely:
"Well, sir, what can I do for you to-day?"
"Is Mr. Cliquot in?" asked Harry, in low tones.
The salesman smiled and shook his head.
"No," he replied. "He is dead."
"Dead? But the name on your sign--"
"Is only kept as a firm name. His partner is in."
"Are you the gentleman?"
"No. His name is Decker. But he is engaged at present."
"I wish to see him personally."
"Won't you sit down?"
"Thank you. I am in a great hurry."
"In that case, perhaps I can arrange an interview."
"I won't detain him a minute."
The clerk passed into the little private office, and Harry heard the lowhum of voices. Then the proprietor said:
"Send him in."
The salesman reappeared, nodded, smiled and said:
"Go right in, sir, through that door in the partition."
Harry pushed the door open.
It was a small room containing a desk at which sat a bald-headed, little,old man with a mass of diamonds spread before him on the desk.
He had a magnifying glass in his eye, a pair of tweezers in his hand, and asmall delicate scale in front of him.
Evidently he had been weighing and sizing up the stones.
In a chair beside him sat Clara La Croix!
As Harry stepped forward with a smile on his face, their glances met.
She half started from her chair, uttering a smothered cry of intensedismay, and her face turned as pale as death.
"Young King Brady!" she gasped, faintly.
"Clara, I've run you down at last!"
She fairly groaned.
Her defeat was hard to bear.
"This is terrible!" she muttered.
Harry pointed at the diamonds in front of the astonished dealer.
"Ain't those the smuggled diamonds?" he asked.
Before she could reply, Mr. Decker sprang to his feet, crying in alarm:
"Good heavens! Are these smuggled diamonds?"
"Yes," replied Harry, with a nod.
"No wonder she wanted to sell them so cheap!"
"Mr. Decker, I am a Custom House officer."
"Ah!"
"This girl is a smuggler."
"I see!"
"We've been on her trail since she brought those gems from Holland toCanada, and thence over the border without paying duty on them."
"The little wretch!"
"Are you a party to this deal?"
"No, indeed!" emphatically replied the dealer. "I'm a victim. She came in awhile ago and said her father died, leaving a stock of diamonds to her ashe had been an importer. As she offered to sell them very cheap, I wasselecting a lot to buy, when you came in."
"I believe you, sir."
"I am a respectable business man."
"Oh, there can't be any doubt of that. This girl is developing into one ofthe most expert crooks in the country. For her own good it's a blessingthat I've caught her before she gets any worse."
"That's a fact."
"Kindly gather up those gems in a package for me."
"Certainly. I'm glad you arrived in time to save me from buying goods ofthis kind. I have no desire to do any crooked business."
He made a package of the diamonds.
Harry then turned his attention to Clara who was weeping bitterly and saidto her in low tones:
"There's no use playing the baby act. We've got your father, mother and thefour spies. You and the diamonds are the last of the bunch."
"But I don't want to go to prison," she sobbed.
"I can't help that. You've broken the law and now you have got to take theconsequence of your evildoing."
"Can't you let me go?"
"No."
"I'll give you all those diamonds if you do."
"My dear girl, I'm going to take them anyway."
/> "But I mean for keeps. They're worth $250,000."
"I wouldn't let you go for ten times that amount."
"Very well," she replied, despairingly, "take me."
"If you'll go along peacefully I won't handcuff you and I'll take you in acab so people won't be staring."
"You are very kind. I'll do anything you ask."
Harry took the diamonds from Mr. Decker and ranging himself alongside ofthe girl he led her down to the street.
A cab was procured and they drove away.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CONCLUSION.
After Andrew Gibson rushed from the room in the Astor House, Old King Bradywalked over to Paul La Croix and asked him:
"Were you going to sell him your diamonds?"
"Yes, sair," admitted the terrified prisoner, "but, by gar, I deed not knowzat he was wong Custom House inspectair."
"Well, that's exactly what he was."
"Hark! What eez zat?"
"Gibson in the hall, yelling bloody murder."
"Ze man ees crazy!"
Old King Brady was puzzled by the defeated inspector's actions. But he soonwas destined to learn what the man meant by it.
His yells brought up a policeman at the head of a crowd.
"What's the fuss about?" demanded the patrolman.
"See this badge?" demanded Gibson.
"Yes. You're a Custom House officer."
"That's what I am. I'm after a smuggler."
"Well, what of it?"
"He's in that room. Just as I was going to arrest him a friend of hisrushed in, armed with a gun and gave me a punch in the eye."
"I see he did."
"Well, I want you to arrest that fellow, so I can take in the smuggler."
"Very well. Come and point him out to me."
Gibson rushed to the door and flung it open.
Striking a dramatic attitude and pointing at Old King Brady, he shouted inferocious tones:
"There stands the man. Arrest him!"
Old King Brady was astonished to hear this, and bristling up with justindignation, he demanded:
"Of what does this man accuse me?"
"Interfering with an officer in the discharge of his duty."
Instantly comprehending Gibson's game, the old detective burst outlaughing, and finally asked:
"How did I interfere with him?"
"He was arresting yonder man, he says."
"Lock him up, officer!" shouted the inspector. "Lock him up!"
The policeman took a firmer grip on his club and made a rush at Old KingBrady, whom he grasped by the collar.
"You're my prisoner!" he exclaimed. "If you resist, I'll club you!"
While this was going on, Gibson grabbed La Croix and dragged him over tothe door, exclaiming:
"You come with me!"
He designed to arrest the man and get the credit for it, while Old KingBrady was fighting with the policeman.
But his plot was doomed to dismal failure.
Old King Brady flung back the lapel of his vest, and exclaimed:
"Do you know I'm Old King Brady, the Secret Service detective?"
"What!" gasped the policeman, glaring at his badge.
"If you don't believe it, you can come to the station when I pull in myprisoner. That fellow is a Custom House inspector all right, but he'ssailing under false colors. We were both after the same man, as I amworking for the Custom House. I caught the man, and now he wants to takethe glory of the capture. See through his game?"
The policeman did.
He released the detective.
Then he made a rush at the spiteful inspector, and poking and jabbing himwith his club, he put Gibson out of the hotel.
The inspector finding himself baffled, departed in a fury for the wholecrowd was laughing and jeering at him, and one of the spectators threatenedto report his meanness to the Collector.
Old King Brady now seized La Croix.
Accompanied by the policeman he went to the Church street station and theremet Harry, who had just brought in Clara.
The prisoners were put in cells and the Bradys departed.
Going straight to the Custom House, they were ushered into the Collector'sroom and gave him the details of their work from start to finish.
When Harry handed over the seized diamonds he was delighted, and praisedthe pair in the most glowing terms for their efficient work.
He declared that they had broken up the most dangerous gang of smugglerswho ever infested the United States, and expressed his regret that he wasunable to keep them permanently on his staff.
Gibson, he declared, would be dismissed in disgrace.
The detectives then went to Secret Service headquarters and reported totheir own chief, saying their work for the Custom House was finished.
Soon after that the trial and conviction of the La Croixs and theiraccomplices took place.
It is safe to assume that they got the extreme penalty of the law upon theevidence furnished by the Bradys.
When they were disposed of, the Secret Service detectives returned to theirregular duties on the force.
It was not long after that, when one of the most startling events in theirlives occurred. This happened when they were detailed upon a Secret Servicecase. The adventures they met with were of the most thrilling description.Their lives were threatened by dangers, and they did some of the mostmarvellous work ever known in the department. But want of space hereprohibits our giving the details in this story. We have reserved it for anew tale which will be issued in our next number.
THE END.
Read "THE BRADYS AND THE RUNAWAY BOYS; OR, SHADOWING THE CIRCUS SHARPERS,"which will be the next number (80) of "Secret Service."
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