down on our boat to meet her. I want to have a talk with Inspector
Pigot--the French detective. Will you come along?"

"Will I!" I said. "Where shall I meet you?"

"At the foot of Liberty Street, at five o'clock."

"I'll be there," I promised. And I was.

The boat was cast loose as soon as we got aboard, backed out into the
busy river, her whistle shrieking shrilly, then swung about and
headed down stream. It was a fast boat--the _Record_, which prided
itself on outdistancing its contemporaries in other directions, would
of course try to do so in this--and when she got fairly into her
stride, with her engines throbbing rhythmically, the shore on either
hand slipped past us rapidly.

The New York sky-line, as seen from the river, is one of the wonders
of the world, and I stood looking at it until we swung out into the
bay. There were two other men on board--the regular ship reporters, I
suppose--and Godfrey had gone into the cabin with them to talk over
some detail of the evening's work; so I went forward to the bow,
where I would get the full benefit of the salt breeze, with the taste
of it on my lips. The Statue of Liberty was just ahead, and already
the great search-light in her torch was winking across the water.
Craft innumerable crossed and re-crossed, their lights reflected in
the waves, and far ahead, a little to the left, I could see the white
glow against the sky which marked the position of Coney Island.

Godfrey joined me presently, and we stood for some time looking at