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
"Exactly. They are to meet in the Astor House to-day at twelve and end the
sale."
Old King Brady glanced hastily at his watch.
It was then half-past eleven and to reach the Astor House would take
three-quarters of an hour!
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CAPTURE OF LA CROIX.
Leaving the prisoner's cell, the Bradys hastened from the police station
and hastily getting aboard a City Hall train on the elevated road, they
went downtown.
"As it takes about three-quarters of an hour to get down to the bridge,"
said Harry, in anxious tones, "I'm afraid we will reach the Astor House too
late to prevent the consummation of that diamond sale."
"Well, that depends upon how long it is going to take La Croix and his
customer to arrive at a bargain," said Old King Brady, quietly.
He was not very nervous over the matter.
Taking a chew of plug tobacco, he settled back comfortably in his seat,
drew a newspaper from his pocket and began to read the news.
Harry watched him restlessly.
The boy was very impatient.
"I can't understand how you can take it so cool," he muttered.
"What's the good of fuming and fretting? It isn't going to hurry us, is
it?"
"No. But La Croix may beat us."
"Keep cool. The more you worry, the warmer you'll get."
That ride downtown was torture to Young King Brady, and there wasn't a
minute he did not have his watch in his hand and kept counting the minutes
as they slipped by.
It was with a deep sense of relief that he saw the train stop at the bridge
and he was the first one off the cars.
"Quarter past twelve," he growled, feverishly, "and it will take us five or
ten minutes longer to reach the hotel."
"Have patience--" began Old King Brady.
"Can't do it. Let's run, or I'll get wild!"
They made rapid time down Park Row and crossing past the post-office, they
hastened into the hotel.
Going to the desk, they asked the clerk:
"Is Mr. Savoy here?"
"Yes. Room 76. Name, please."
"He's a friend. We wish to surprise him. Is he in?"
"Oh, yes. I'll send a boy up with you."
"Anyone call on him to-day?"
"Not a soul."
"Not a soul?" blankly asked Harry.
"Except yourselves," laughed the clerk.
Old King Brady burst into a hearty peal of laughter, but not at what the
clerk said, for he was laughing at Harry for being so impatient.
The boy drew a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Thank fortune, we're in time!" he muttered.
"You've had all your stewing for nothing."
"I'm mighty glad of it. His customer must be late."
"All the better for us. This experience will teach you a good lesson in our
profession--namely, never to get excited."
"I'll try to profit by it," said Harry, quietly.
Just then a boy came running up and the clerk said:
"Show these gentlemen up to 76--Mr. Savoy's room."
Just as they were about to follow the boy, a tall, thin man, without
whiskers, came along and seeing the Bradys, gave a slight start.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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