The weak point of the undertaking was the lack of knowledge as to the particular ship or steamer on which the opium was expected to arrive. Two steamers had arrived from China this week, one regular liner and one tramp. Three sailing vessels had also come in, all from Chinese ports. Yet it was by no means certain that the opium would enter the harbor of San Francisco in that way. It is quite the custom with captains of English tramp steamers, and also with those of sailing vessels, to drop opium overboard in sealed rubber bags while off the Farraleone Islands. Such bags are picked up by fishing schooners on hand for the purpose, and by them landed as best they can. A close watch for such operations in this particular instance was being kept by a special revenue cutter outside the Golden Gate. The Bradys' orders had to do only with the landing. It was supposed that the people connected with some storage warehouse in this vicinity were and had been for some time standing in with the smugglers. It was particularly desired by the Government to learn who these people were; to catch them red-handed and make an example of them. That Chinese capital was back of this crooked enterprise was certain, but there was reason to believe that they were being substantially aided by others who were not of their race. "If the fog would only lift we might be able to do something," remarked one of the Secret Service men, "but as it is I see little use in remaining here." "Patience," replied Old King Brady. "We have to do the best we can, my friend. I admit that the fog is a nuisance, but I am not giving up yet by any means. Harry, work in a little nearer. We must be close upon the India Basin by this time." The order was obeyed by Young King Brady. After a few moments the wharf line became visible, the fog lifting a bit. Then suddenly came a break. "The basin," said the Secret Service man. "I think not," replied Old King Brady. "I think it is only the Islais Creek Channel. Stop the boat, Harry. We will lie off here for a few minutes. Perhaps we are banking too much on these hop smugglers running into the basin. It may be one of the warehouses on the channel here after all." Harry stopped the launch accordingly. The ebb tide took them back and the fog closed in on the Islais Channel. The boat ran against a wharf and the movement was stopped. "Shall I pull up, governor?" inquired Young King Brady. "No. We will rest as we are," said the old detective. "Quiet, now. Let us listen. I shall not remain long idle here." "It isn't the least use," growled the Secret Service man. "There won't be nothing doing to-night." Old King Brady made no reply. This man was a chronic kicker. He had been at it right along. But for the fact that he was also known to be a good fighter, Old King Brady would have dropped him. Silence and fog! Such was the situation now.