CHAPTER I.

THE BRADYS AS CUSTOM HOUSE DETECTIVES.


The Collector of the Port of New York sat in his office in the Custom House
with a look of annoyance upon his face.

Several of his chief inspectors were standing about the room with the most
uneasy expressions, for they were being censured unmercifully.

"I tell you, gentlemen," the Collector was saying, angrily, "I am very much
disgusted with the poor service your department is giving. I am determined
to stop this wholesale smuggling. If none of you are capable of doing the
work for which you are liberally paid, I'll have to get somebody to do the
work for you. Do you understand?"

"But, sir," began one of the inspectors, humbly, "we've done our best--"

"And accomplished nothing!" snapped the Collector.

"How could we, sir? The smuggler you want us to catch does not resort to
the usual tricks such people adopt to avoid paying duty on the diamonds and
other precious stones, which you say are smuggled into this country. It's
because he's such a sly and clever rogue, that we can't locate him. We've
resorted to every known method to discover the villain, but can't make any
headway."

"Then you admit you are beaten?"