قراءة كتاب The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler; Or, Working for the Custom House

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The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler; Or, Working for the Custom House

The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler; Or, Working for the Custom House

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 8

appearance.

Both he and Harry now had assumed their natural looks.

There was a big white felt hat on the old detective's head, his frock coat of dark-blue was buttoned up to the neck, around which there now was a standing collar and an old-fashioned stock and on his hands were cotton gloves.

The boy's suit of brown plaid, and a bicycle cap on his head, were much different from the reverse side of his clothing and the other hat he had worn.

In the street Harry saw the man hail a cab and get in.

He saw his partner and beckoned to him.

When they met, Harry asked eagerly:

"Did you find the girl?"

"No. She must have hurried from the steamer."

"Well, La Croix is bound to meet her now."

"Of course."

"Our plan is to keep him shadowed."

"See if we can't get a cab, too."

They pursued the carriage on foot as far as Eighth avenue before they encountered a public hack and got in.

Instructing the driver to pursue the other vehicle, they were carried up to Fourteenth street, across town to Broadway and thence up to Twenty-third street.

La Croix's vehicle paused before the Fifth Avenue Hotel and he alighted.

"We were not misinformed about his address," commented Harry.

"No. He is probably going in there to meet the girl."

"Let's get out here at the Arch so as not to attract his attention."

"Very well. Be careful now."

They dismissed the cab and hurried into the hotel.

La Croix had disappeared from view and the detectives hastened to the office and said to the clerk:

"Got a party here named La Croix?"

"Yes, sir. They're in room 678. Wish to send up your name?"

"No," replied Old King Brady, with a smile, as he exhibited his badge.

"Oh," said the clerk, "detective, eh?"

"We're after La Croix. He's a crook."

"He is? What has he done?"

"Smuggler."

"I see. How about his wife and daughter?"

"They must be in his game too."

"Going to pull them in?"

"Probably. Is he in his room?"

"He just went up the stairs."

"I wish we could reach his apartments ahead of him."

"So you can by going up in the elevator. It's on the top floor."

"Well try it."

They hastened over to the elevators and found that the only one down was one which had no conductor in it. As they did not wish to lose time, they both got in, shut the door and pulled the wire cable.

Up they glided, story after story, without seeing him ascending the stairs.

He had gone up in an elevator from the floor above.

Above on the beams over the elevator shaft La Croix was crouching with a big hatchet in his hand, as he peered down at the people ascending in the cars.

He had detected them in pursuit and expecting trouble, he was waiting to give the detectives a warm reception. He evidently recognized them without their disguises.

As he caught view of his pursuers coming up in the car, he picked up the hatchet he had found lying on the beam.

Raising it above his head, he brought it down upon the cable by which the car was suspended, with all his strength.

The shock caused the Bradys to look up and they saw what he was doing.

Bang! went the keen blade upon the cable again where it crossed the wheel.

The weight of the car caused the wire rope to part where he cut it, and the elevator's ascent was checked.

It began to fall with the detectives in it.


CHAPTER IV.

THE CLEW IN THE BASIN.

A cry of alarm escaped Old King Brady when he saw the Frenchman.

"Harry," he gasped, "he is trying to kill us."

"There goes the cable!" muttered the boy, and a cold chill darted through him as he heard the ominous snap of the parting strands.

"The safety-clutch may save us, Harry."

"No! It don't work," groaned the boy as the car shot down.

A sickening sensation

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