The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler Part 2

Pa.s.sengers were swarming down the gangplank of the big steamer, crowds of friends were waiting to greet them, porters and waiters were landing the baggage on the dock and stevedores were preparing to discharge the cargo.

The two Bradys took up a favorable position and calling the purser of the steamer, they induced him to point out several people whose names they mentioned.

These people were the ones whom they had spotted as smugglers.

Presently the owners of the baggage began opening their trunks and valises so the inspectors could examine their effects.

While this was going on the Bradys joined the Collector and spoke to him.

He was startled to discover their ident.i.ty and remarked:

"Well, you certainly have the faculty of hiding your ident.i.ty in the most complete manner. Have you found any smugglers yet?"

"Several," replied Harry, quickly.

"Indeed! Who are they?"

"We'll show you when your men get through."

They chatted together until the inspection was finished and all the luggage had been marked and received the pasters to show they were pa.s.sed.

"Now call your men and get their report, sir," said Harry.

The Collector did as he was requested.

Out of several hundred pa.s.sengers only a lace shawl had been captured.

"Is that all you managed to find that was dutiable?" asked Harry, in surprise, as the searchers gathered round them.

They recognized him by his voice and Gibson growled sarcastically:

"Do you think you can do any better?"

"Oh, my--yes."

"Well, I'd like to see you do it."

"So we shall. Let us begin with Mrs. Harvey. Open her trunk again."

Despite the lady's protests this was done.

Pointing at the tray, Harry said, coolly:

"Pick up that cake of toilet soap, cut it in two and you'll find a very valuable gentleman's ruby ring and scarf pin buried inside of it."

Gibson complied with a poor grace.

As Harry said, he disclosed the articles mentioned.

"My!" said the lady, innocently, "I wonder how they got there?"

"Madam," replied Harry, politely, "you put them there yourself. As a lady don't wear such things and you've been traveling alone, it's clear you were trying to smuggle those things. Seize them, Gibson, and they'll be appraised in the Custom House. If the lady then wishes to pay the full duty charged on them she can get back her ornaments."

The Collector burst out laughing.

"Any more?" he asked Old King Brady.

"Yes. See that short fat man? He is Mr. Jacobs, a stock broker. I guess we'll have to pull off the gentleman's left boot. Hey, Mr. Jacobs!"

"Vell?" growled the fat broker, glancing at the detective in some surprise.

"Sit down on your trunk, please," said Old King Brady.

"Vot for?"

"I'll show you in a moment."

The broker sat down and Harry seized him and held him there.

At the same moment Old King Brady grabbed him by the left foot, gave it a tug and the struggling man gave a yell, and demanded, excitedly, as the boot slipped off and remained in the detective's hand:

"Py shiminey, vot yer mean py dot outrages alretty?"

"We think you are cheating the government," replied Old King Brady.

"Vot? Me? You vas grazy!"

"Am I?" blandly asked Old King Brady.

"Sure you are! Vot mein boot vas got mit it ter do?"

"I'll show you, my innocent friend," grimly replied the old detective, as he drew out his pocket knife.

With the large blade he removed the first layer of leather from the heel and showed that the heel was hollow.

Lying within this neat little opening was a small paper package which the detective drew out. Opening the paper he showed its contents.

It consisted of five magnificent diamonds.

The broker gave a gasp of horror and Old King Brady said to him sweetly:

"You forgot to put these on the manifest, Mr. Jacobs, didn't you?"

"_Och, Gott!_" groaned the unlucky broker, in deep anguish of spirit, "I vas ruint vunct. Vot vill I do? Vot vill I do?"

"Pay the duty and redeem them from the Custom House," replied the detective, and the gems were seized on the spot.

All the inspectors looked envious of the two detectives.

The Collector regarded them with a cold glance and finally asked: