Every time one of them chanced to glance back, she suddenly dodged down
behind the bulwark out of sight.

She was a beautiful girl of about sixteen, handsomely clad in a short dress
and zouave waist of fine silk, while a stylish big Gainsborough hat with
black ostrich plumes crowned her short, yellow, curly hair.

Her skin was as white as milk and she had a pair of big brown eyes, a
pretty little Grecian nose and rosebud lips.

Young King Brady was charmed with her beauty, yet his suspicions of her
actions were aroused to the fever point.

He touched his partner on the arm and pointed at her.

"See there!" he exclaimed. "What can she be up to?"

"We'd better keep an eye on her, Harry," returned the old detective, after
a careful survey. "It looks to me as if she were up to some trick. She
wouldn't be watching those inspectors' departure that way unless it was of
vital importance to her."

"But surely she can't be so silly as to think there are no officers left
here. Everyone knows that a couple remain constantly on the watch in their
office at the entrance to the dock."

"Ha! What's that? She's waving her handkerchief to that man who is coming
out on the pier from West street."