the smuggler shaving himself.

"There's two detectives in your daughter's room!" he gasped.

"_Sacre!_" roared La Croix in startled tones.

"They've got a warrant for your daughter's arrest."

"Who zey are?" groaned La Croix.

"The Bradys."

"We are lost!"

"Your daughter slipped me this package and told me to give it to you."

He handed over the parcel of diamonds, and with a glad cry, La Croix
eagerly seized it and thrust it in the bosom of his shirt.

"Here--five dollaire for you!" he panted, giving the boy a bill. "Keep ze
still tongue about our affairs. Now go!"

The boy shot out of the room and the man wrote a note and left it on the
bureau.

La Croix hastily dressed and rushed out of the hotel.

He was fearfully excited.

Reaching the street, he called a cab, doubled the driver's fare and was