The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler; Or, Working for the Custom HouseDoughty, Francis Worcester
General
The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler; Or, Working for the Custom House
Doughty, Francis Worcester
American fiction; Dime novels; Mystery and detective stories
"But you caused one of your spies to do so for you."
"Admitted."
"And you have them now."
"So we have."
"That makes you as guilty as if you did the work of smuggling yourself."
"So I presume. We connived the trick, for our own benefit, to cheat the
Custom House. We ain't denying that. In fact, it's going to be a big thing
for us. Now, we don't wish to be pestered with your persecutions any
longer."
"I don't see how you can help yourself."
"We do."
"How?"
"Name your price to quit."
"You mean to bribe us off, eh?"
"That's about the size of it."
"We are not to be bought."
"Humbug! I never knew a Custom House officer to refuse."
"We ain't of that stamp, young lady."
She looked at him incredulously a moment, and saw by the stern look in his
deep gray eyes that he meant what he said.
It seemed to unnerve her for a moment.
She reflected and finally asked:
"Are you determined?"
"Absolutely!"
"You are bound to hound us?"
"We are, until we gain our point."
"This is astonishing."
"Are you aware that we have your mother in jail?"
A look of alarm swept over her face, the color fled from her cheeks and she
slowly rose to her feet and asked in strained tones:
"What! My mother in prison?"
"Yes, and you are going to join her in a few moments."
"Mr. Brady, you are very much mistaken."
"Why am I?"
"I'll show you, sir."
She gave utterance to a cough. It was a signal. Instantly the door of an
ante-room flew open. In the opening stood four men. They were the spies.
Each one was armed with a revolver.
These weapons were aimed at the Bradys and the girl laughed outright when
she saw the involuntary expressions of astonishment that swept over their
features.
"Quite a surprise, isn't it?" she asked in grim tones.
"We are in a trap!" Harry muttered.
"That's the situation!" said the girl, quietly. "If you move hand or foot,
you'll get shot. Those men never miss their mark. At such short range they
could kill you even if they were not expert shots."
The Bradys saw the force of her reasoning.
In a word, they were helpless.
Neither attempted to draw a weapon in self-defense.
To do so would be to seal their doom.
An awkward silence ensued.
Old King Brady finally asked in gruff tones:
"Well, what are you going to do about it?"
"Make prisoners of you and hold you until we have disposed of the
diamonds," quickly replied Clara.
The detectives looked disgusted.
"Shall we resist?" muttered Harry, desperately.
"No. It would be folly to attempt it," his partner replied.
Old King Brady was not so fiery and impetuous as the boy; he was more slow,
deliberate and cool in the face of danger.
He saw that the smugglers had concluded to throw off the mask and make no
further pretenses.
That meant bitter warfare.
He had no plan to suggest, and the girl exclaimed:
"Come in and bind them, Jean."
One of the men entered.
He was the man who had done the smuggling.
Walking over to the detectives, he said to them in low tones:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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