“And that,” exclaimed Havens, “is about the neatest and slickest capture I ever heard of!” “If you fellows hadn’t mixed up with the smugglers,” the sheriff said to Phillips, “you might have chased about here a good many more days yet without being taken.” “We didn’t mix up with the smugglers!” growled Phillips. “They mixed up with us!” By this time the firing below had in a measure ceased, and Gilmore hastened down a break in the clouds which looked to those above almost like a trap door into a dark basement. He returned in a few moments with a smile on his face. “The boys we sent to make the attack from below,” he said, “have captured a score of Chinamen and all the smugglers, including a blond aviator who says he came from New York.” “Well, boys,” Mr. Havens said with a smile, “we may as well get the machines ready for a visit to Westchester county. It appears to me that the case is closed. The sheriff will, of course, attend to the extradition proceedings and deliver the prisoners over to the New York officers. Our work is finished.” If looks of rage and hate could kill, then Havens would certainly have been murdered at that instant, for the four prisoners glared at him as if holding him responsible for all their troubles. “For your information, boys,” Havens said, “I’ll tell you that the DeMotts and their crowd of abductors and river thieves have all been captured since the night they entertained me on board the _Nancy_.” “You’ve got nothing against us after you get us to New York!” Mendosa declared. “You can’t prove anything!” This remark seemed to bring an idea to the mind of the fellow, for he began cautiously feeling about in his vest pockets with his manacled hands. Watching him closely, Ben saw Mendoza take something from his left-hand vest pocket, drop it to the ground and move forward to crush it under his foot. The boy sprang forward and rescued the object, which was wrapped in thin tissue paper. The boy tore the paper away and held a diamond ring with four small diamond settings showing. There was a place for the fifth setting, but it was empty. Havens took the ring into his hand and examined it carefully. Then he faced Mendoza with a smile. “No proof against you?” he exclaimed. “This is the ring you wore on the night you burglarized the Buyers’ Bank and murdered the watchman. All the criminal officers in New York know the ring as well as they know your ugly face.” “And what has the ring to do with it?” demanded the prisoner. “And here,” Havens continued taking a slender roll of tissue paper from his pocket, “are the stone and the gold claw broken from the ring on the night of the robbery and murder. They were found by the police on the rug in front of the desk in the bank where you divided the stolen securities. And so,” continued the millionaire, “you are convicted at last by the Clue Above the Clouds!”