“Very good!” agreed Old King Brady. “We’ll try your plan.” “We’ll go to the Broadway Central Hotel.” “Very good!” “It is an old hostelry and does not depend altogether on elevators. There are rear stairs for us to descend.” The detectives proceeded to carry out their plan. Certainly it looked feasible. They registered at the hotel, boldly, under their own names. They prepaid their room as they did not have baggage. Then they ascended by the elevator. They proceeded to the door of their room. They entered and waited for the bell-boy to disappear. Then they emerged and started for the rear stairs. They reached a corner of the long corridor when some-thing like a chuckle came to their ears. Old King Brady turned his head. “By jove!” he exclaimed, aghast. At the same moment Harry saw the cause of the old detective’s excitement. Far down the corridor a man stood apparently studying the number on a room door. He seemed totally oblivious of the presence of the detectives. It was Dick Burke. “Great Scott!” exclaimed Harry, and said no more. The detectives looked at each other in sheer wonderment. “What do you think of that?” “I think I want that cuss!” said Old King Brady, starting for the crook. But at that moment Burke stepped into a side corridor and vanished. When the detectives reached the spot he was gone. They made a quick search and went all over the hotel. They made inquiries of bell-boys and other attaches. But in vain. It convinced them that they were truly up against a hard game. The trio seemed possessed of a supernatural faculty for making themselves invisible at will. Completely mystified, the Bradys sat down in the hotel lobby and tried to think. It was a conundrum. The foes were close upon their heels and could not be shaken off or decoyed. They were as elusive as the will-o’-the-wisp. It was easy to understand their game. They were waiting only a favorable opportunity for pouncing upon their intended victims. They were slow and patient as the Hindoo thug himself. Old King Brady was all cold sweat. “By Jupiter, Harry!” he exclaimed. “They certainly mean to catch us off our guard. What can we do?” “There is only one plan.” “Well?” “We must make a race of it. Let them chase us. We will keep on the jump. At a favorable moment we will double back on our tracks and then—they are ours.” “A good plan and the only one,” said Old King Brady. “They will pursue us. We are sure of that. We are not smart if we do not fool them in some way.” So the plan was decided upon and action made at once. CHAPTER VII. THE RACE BEGINS. The plan of the Bradys certainly looked logical. To make a race of it was the only safe way. So they acted at once. They did not even spend the night at the Broadway Central Hotel. Instead they took a car for the Grand Central Depot. Here they bought tickets for Boston. The plan was cleverly laid.