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.

The Bradys got a good look at him before he turned his back to them and
Harry clutched his companion's arm and whispered:

"By jove, that's Andrew Gibson, the Custom House inspector, in disguise."

"Yes," assented Old King Brady, nodding, "I recognized him. He knew us,
too, I could tell at a glance. That man hates us. I wonder what he is doing