"No, but a wire came from Washington just after you left to watch out for a hundred-thousand-dollar string of pearls sold at a private auction in London last week to an American named--" "I don't care what _his_ name was," Gregory cut in. "What was the date they were sold?" "The sixteenth." Gregory glanced at the calendar. "And to-day is the twenty-second," he mused. "What boats are due in the next three days?" "The _Cretic_ docks this afternoon and the _Tasmania_ ought to get in to-morrow. That'll be all until the end of the week." "Right!" snapped Gregory. "Don't let a soul off the _Cretic_ until I've had a look at her passenger list. It's too late to go down the harbor now, but not a person's to get off that ship until I've had a chance to look 'em over. Also cable for a copy of the _Tasmania's_ passenger list. Hurry it up!" Less than ten minutes after he had slipped on board the _Cretic_, however, Gregory gave the signal which permitted the gangplank to be lowered and the passengers to proceed as usual--except for the fact that the luggage of everyone and the persons of not a few were searched with more than the average carefulness. But not a trace of the pearls was found, as Joe had anticipated. A careful inspection of the passenger list and a few moments with the purser had convinced him that none of his three suspects were on board. Shortly after he returned to the office, the list of the _Tasmania's_ passengers began to come over the cables. Less than half a page had been received when Gregory uttered a sudden exclamation, reached for his notebook, compared a name in it with one which appeared on the cabled report, and indulged in the luxury of a deep-throated chuckle. "Greg's got a nibble somewhere," commented one of the bystanders. "Yes," admitted his companion, "but landin' the fish is a different matter. Whoever's on the other end of that line is a mighty cagy individual." But, though he undoubtedly overheard the remark, Gregory didn't seem to be the least bit worried. In fact, his hat was at a more rakish angle than usual and his cane fairly whistled through the air as he wandered up the Avenue half an hour later. The next the customs force heard of him was when he boarded the quarantine boat the next morning, clambering on the liner a little later with all the skill of a pilot. "You have a passenger on board by the name of Dodge," he informed the purser, after he had shown his badge. "Mrs. Mortimer C. Dodge. What do you know about her?" "Not a thing in the world," said the purser, "except that she is a most beautiful and apparently attractive woman. Crossed with us once before--" "Twice," corrected Gregory. "Came over in January and went right back." "That's right," said the purser, "so she did. I'd forgotten that. But, beyond that fact, there isn't anything that I can add." "Seem to be familiar with anyone on board?"