On the 3d of October, the _Richmond’s_ cargo was all on board, and instead of appearing to be in ballast only she sank deep in the water under the small but heavy load. Brent had a last and affectionate interview with Casimiro, who seemed to consider that the service was on Brent’s part and not on his own in carrying away the gold. The young man arranged for the annual delivery of a cargo of supplies in December midsummer, and then just at noon, with steam up, the _Richmond_ startled the echoes and sent terror to the hearts of the Patagonians with a tremendous blast of her whistle. A few moments later she was under way, creeping slowly out into the ocean and then turning her prow to the north. The steamer’s cargo was so heavy that she was unable to carry a full supply of coal. She put in again at Rio Janeiro to partially refill her bunkers. Otherwise the voyage to New York was without stop or unusual incident. Sandy Hook was sighted on the 2d of November, and the steamer lay at quarantine that night while Brent went up to the city to arrange for docking. The only point which gave the young man any anxiety was the customs inspection. His cargo was not dutiable, so that he would be guilty of no fraud upon the government in failing to declare its real nature. He was also confident that if the arrival of such a vast quantity of gold should transpire through a custom-house declaration, it would inflict a great and unnecessary calamity upon the business world. His conscience felt justified, therefore, in resorting to the same expedient which he had adopted on landing his small consignment of gold a few months before. Fortune seemed to favor him, for the same inspector came aboard who had examined his boxes before. He remembered the occasion, and his examination this time was almost as superficial as the first. This ordeal passed and the ship docked near the foot of West Tenth Street. Brent felt that the worst of his difficulties were over. He found the vault completed to his satisfaction, and the work of storing his strange cargo therein was begun at once. CHAPTER V. A MOLE-HILL THAT BECAME A MOUNTAIN. It was five o’clock in the afternoon of Tuesday, the 20th of November, when the last box of the _Richmond’s_ mysterious cargo was raised to its place on top of one of the tiers of closely-packed cases in the steel and granite chamber. Robert Brent watched the rather awkward exertions of the brawny truckmen as they tugged and pushed the rough box over small rollers on a long skid which rested against the top of the row. “We can’t get used to ’em, sir,” remarked one of the men, when they rested for a moment at the end of their task. “It isn’t the heavy weight; it’s the small size. If they were solid lead they wouldn’t be harder to handle.” “There is a good deal of metal in them,” replied Brent sententiously.