"Not particularly. Mixes with the younger married set and I've noticed her on deck with the Mortons quite frequently. Probably met them on her return trip last winter. They were along then, if I remember rightly." "Thanks," said the customs operative. "You needn't mention anything about my inquiries, of course," and he mixed with the throng of newspaper reporters who were picking up news in various sections of the big vessel. When the _Tasmania_ docked, Gregory was the first one off. "Search Mrs. Mortimer C. Dodge to the skin," he directed the matron. "Take down her hair, tap the heels of her shoes, and go through all the usual stunts, but be as gentle as you can about it. Say that we've received word that some uncut diamonds--not pearls, mind you--are concealed on the _Tasmania_ and that orders have been given to go over everybody thoroughly. Pass the word along the line to give out the same information, so she won't be suspicious. I don't think you'll find anything, but you never can tell." At that, Joe was right. The matron didn't locate a blessed thing out of the way. Mrs. Dodge had brought in a few dutiable trinkets, but they were all down on her declaration, and within the hour she was headed uptown in a taxi, accompanied by a maid who had met her as she stepped out of the customs office. Not far behind them trailed another taxi, top up and Gregory's eyes glued to the window behind the chauffeur. The first machine finally drew up at the Astor, and Mrs. Dodge and the maid went in, followed by a pile of luggage which had been searched until it was a moral certainty that not a needle would have been concealed in it. Gregory waited until they were out of sight and then followed. In answer to his inquiries at the desk he learned that Mrs. Dodge had stopped at the hotel several times before and the house detective assured him that there was nothing suspicious about her conduct. "How about the maid?" inquired Gregory. "Don't know a thing about her, either, except that she is the same one she had before. Pretty little thing, too--though not as good-looking as her mistress." For the next three days Joe hung around the hotel or followed the lady from the _Tasmania_ wherever she went. Something in the back of his head--call it intuition or a hunch or whatever you please, but it's the feeling that a good operative gets when he's on the right trail--told him that he was "warm," as the kids say. Appearances seemed to deny that fact. Mrs. Dodge went only to the most natural places--a few visits to the stores, a couple to fashionable modistes and milliners, and some drives through the Park, always accompanied by her maid and always in the most sedate and open manner. But on the evening of the third day the house detective tipped Joe off that his prey was leaving in the morning.