The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler; Or, Working for the Custom House
Page 16
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CAPTURE OF LA CROIX.
Leaving the prisoner's cell, the Bradys hastened from the police stationand hastily getting aboard a City Hall train on the elevated road, theywent 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 toolate to prevent the consummation of that diamond sale."
"Well, that depends upon how long it is going to take La Croix and hiscustomer 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, isit?"
"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 aminute he did not have his watch in his hand and kept counting the minutesas they slipped by.
It was with a deep sense of relief that he saw the train stop at the bridgeand he was the first one off the cars.
"Quarter past twelve," he growled, feverishly, "and it will take us five orten 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, theyhastened 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 theclerk 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 ourprofession--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, withoutwhiskers, 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 andHarry clutched his companion's arm and whispered:
"By jove, that's Andrew Gibson, the Custom House inspector, in disguise."
"Yes," assented 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 doinghere. 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 Iwouldn't be surprised if he got on to the man living here. He may be tryingto 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 twelveo'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 sellthe contraband diamonds.
The Bradys had arrived just in time to prevent this man from cheating themout of their legitimate prey.
Had they been delayed a few minutes longer Gibson would have had La Croixunder arrest and the smuggled diamonds in his possession.
After all their arduous work, he would have stepped in at the last momentand gained the credit for the arrest.
It made the Bradys shiver to think of it.
Harry said to the hall-boy:
"Go ahead, as fast as you can!"
They hastened upstairs while the hotel clerk was writing Gibson's name on acard, and the boy knocked at the door of No. 76.
"Who ees zat?" demanded La Croix's voice from within.
"Boy, sir."
"Ah! An' vat you vant?"
"Gentlemen to see you, sir."
"Yes. I expect him. Wait, I open ze door."
"Go!" whispered Harry to the boy.
The little fellow ran downstairs.
La Croix unlocked the door and stuck out his head.
"Come in, Meestair Geebson--" he began.
And the Bradys interrupted him by rushing against the door; it hit La Croixon the shoulder, sending him reeling back into the room, and he gave a yellas the detectives dashed in.
"_Par Dieu!_ Ze detectives!" he screamed.
Then he began to yell, swear, and rave in French, as he scrambled to hisfeet, and the officers made a rush for him.
"Ze Bradys! Ze Bradys!" he shrieked.
At first they imagined these cries were due to his excitement. But when hebacked up against a door opening into an adjoining room with his armsstretched out, they saw through his purpose.
"Harry!"
"Well?"
"He's warning some one in the next room."
"I'll see!"
The boy dashed out into the hall.
Old King Brady had his pistol in his hand.
Taking aim at the man's head, he roared in stern tones:
"Drop on your knees!"
"Oh, don't fiair!" yelled La Croix, obeying.
"Raise your hands!"
"Sairtainly, Monsieur."
"Now don't budge, or--"
He made a threatening gesture with the pistol at the wild-eyed Frenchman,from whose face all vestige of color had fled.
"No! No!" gasped La Croix, imploringly.
Reaching his side, the detective handcuffed him.
Just then a boy knocked at the hall door.
"Who's there?" cried the old detective.
"Boy, sir."
"What do you want?"
"Mr. Gibson wants to see you, sir."
"Send him up."
"Yes, sir."
Just then the door between the two rooms was flung open and Harry strodethrough with a puzzled look upon his face.
"No one in here," he announced.
A pleased smile crossed La Croix's face.
Observing it, Old King Brady exclaimed:
"Your daughter was in that room, wasn't she?"
"She was," admitted La Croix, "but she hear ze attack and escape."
"You warned her by yelling our names?"
"I deed, Monsieur."
"Confound you! Where are those diamonds?"
"Clara has got zem."
"Don't lie."
"Sairch ze place an' you see."
The Bradys complied, but failed to find the missing diamonds.
"I'll go after her!" cried Harry, hastily, and he rushed out.
A few moments after he had gone, Gibson came in, and a look of mingledsurprise, rage and jealousy crossed his face when he saw the situation ofaffairs.
"How are you, Gibson?" laughed Old King Brady. "I've got La Croix!"
"You've cheated me!" snarled the inspector, furiously.
"Bless your heart, you've got the matter twisted. It was you interferingwith our game. We've been after this man two months. And you ain't going toskim the cream off our hard work, I can tell you."
/> "You lie, Brady--"
An angry light sparkled in the old detective's eyes at this insult and hedoubled up his fist, strode over to the inspector and struck him in theface.
"Don't you dare insult me, you cur!" he exclaimed.
Gibson reeled back swearing, and seeing the old detective coming at himagain, he rushed from the room shouting wildly:
"I'll pay you off for that blow!"