smuggling enterprise."

Harry nodded and they hurried out together.

A hack was engaged and they rode over to the French Trans-Atlantic
Company's pier on the North river.

By the time the cab reached the dock, however, the steamship's mooring
lines had been cast off, the gangplank was down and the vessel was being
pulled out into the stream.

The detectives were disappointed.

Eagerly scanning the throng of passengers on the upper deck, they suddenly
caught view of Clara La Croix.

The girl was standing in the stern waving her handkerchief and shouting to
a stylishly-dressed middle-aged woman on the stringpiece:

"Good-by, mamma!"

"Farewell, Clara--be very careful of yourself, my child!" replied the
woman, as she waved her handkerchief back at the girl.

Harry nudged Old King Brady.

"There's her mother," he muttered, "but La Croix has not shown up. He fears
arrest now, as he knows we are after him."

"So much the better," replied the old detective, drily. "This woman won't