board, also the Chinese newspaper.

Old King Brady offered the reward on his own account, but the address given was Alice's, on Pell street, and a Chinese name was signed.

Knowing that if anything was to come of it, early evening would be the probable time. The Bradys were on hand at the room right after supper.

At about half-past seven o'clock there came a knock on the door.

Old King Brady and Harry slipped into the other room, leaving Alice to open the door.

An aged Chinaman stood outside.

Alice asked him his business in his own language.

The answer was rather a surprise, for it came in pigeon English:

"Me wantee see Kling Blady."

"Old King Brady is not here," replied Alice. "What makes you think that?"

"Oh, me know. He camee here. Me see. Me know you, too."

Seeing that the case was hopeless, Alice asked him inside.

The old fellow shuffled into the room and looked around cautiously.

"Come," said Alice, "tell me what you want."

"Bout boy?" was the reply. "No telle you. Only tellee Kling Blady."

The old detective walked into the room.

He did not know the man so far as he could remember.

Nor was he particularly surprised at the situation, for he had taken no steps to conceal his identity.

"Hello, John! Here I am. Now what you got to say to me about that boy?" he asked.

"Money," replied the Chink. "Me can tell. Two hlundled dlollar—yair."

"You are up against it, governor," laughed Harry. "Do you propose to pay in advance for your Chinese clew?"

Old King Brady's answer was a roll of bills.

"I should have looked out for the boy better," he said. "I am willing to pay for my carelessness."

"See, John," he added, holding up ten ten-dollar bills, which he spread out like a fan. "Half now; other half when we get the boy."

The old man eyed the bills longingly, but shook his head.

"No tellee," he said. "You givee two hlundled dollars, den me tell."

"Get out," said Old King Brady, pocketing the bills. "You're a fraud. You don't know anything about the boy."

CHAPTER IV.

SUNKEN TREASURE.

It was about ten o'clock in the evening when Ed Butler arrived at his sister's house.

The location we may as well state was up in the Bronx, beyond Port Morris docks—we do not care to be more definite.

It was back of a little strip of water front which as yet remained unimproved.

Entering the house after a few words with Mrs. Pow Chow, who seemed disposed to shield her husband from blame, charging that Ed "struck him first," and so on, the three found themselves seated in the kitchen.

Pow lit a cigarette, and, turning to his wife, asked:

"Well, Ethel, shall I tell Eddie what we want of him to-night?"

"You can do as you like," replied the girl, "but if it was me I wouldn't tell him a blessed thing. I'd just make him do it, that's all."

"Do what?" demanded Ed, whose temper was rising under the contemptuous way in which the girl seemed disposed to treat him. "You will find that it won't be so easy to make me do what I don't want to, I guess."

"Sure," said Pow. "Now don't be so soon, Ethel. Eddie's a good boy. He's a kind of brother of mine, too."

"Not on your life!" cried Ed. "Ethel is no sister of mine."

"I could slap your face for you, you sassy little brat!" cried the girl, springing up. "How dare you talk like that? I guess I have a right to marry who I like. I'm of age, anyhow."

"Sit down!" cried the Chinaman. "Sit down and hold your tongue."

Then they began scrapping, Ethel resenting this kind of talk.

Ed thought it a good chance to try to pull out.

While they were in the midst of it he jumped up and made a bolt for the door, but Pow Chow was too quick for him.

The Chinaman got him by the neck in the hall and dragged him back, jamming him down into a chair.

"Now, now, now, Eddie!" he cried. "Don't make it any harder for me than you have to. I want to be good to you, but this is the limit. Be good, and you won't regret it—that's right. Say, Ethel, there's no use in us quarreling. According to your own account you and Eddie never could pull together. Go on upstairs and leave him to me."

Somewhat to Ed's surprise the girl flounced out of the room without a word.

Pow Chow lit another cigarette and offered the package to Ed.

"No, I don't want to be drugged again," growled Ed.

"You need have no fear. I only made them give you that cigar to keep you quiet. It was just opium. A little of it hurts nobody. I want to be a friend to you, Ed. Now let me tell you that it was all a surprise to me when I found who it was those two fellows had captured last night, but when I saw you it occurred to me that you being such, a bully swimmer and diver, that you were just the fellow I wanted—see?"

Wily Pow Chow!

He had touched Ed on his weak point, interesting him at once.

For Ed had a record for swimming, and particularly for diving.

It was his hobby and his pride.

Of course, he at once began to wonder in what direction his talents in this line were to be displayed.

"Use me how?" he asked.

"You remember those papers?" pursued Pow Chow.

"What Ethel stole from my father?"

"Yes."

"I know they were papers father found when the carpenters were altering over our kitchen a few weeks ago, that's about all."

"Not all, Ed. You knew that Mr. Butler expected to make money out of them?"

"I heard him say so—yes."

"But you don't know how, nor what it was all about?"

"No."

"Nor am I going to tell you, for now that you have brought the Bradys in on the business, they being Secret Service men, it might get you into trouble."

"A lot you care about me."

"More than you think, perhaps. I will tell you this, they referred to money which has been hidden under water long ago. I know the place. It is close by here, Ed. Remember when your father went to New York after finding the papers?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, he located the place then, or pretty near it, but not being a swimmer, he could do nothing, so he came home to think it over. He told your mother, and she told Ethel, and Ethel told me, but what none of us knew was just where this money was hidden; that the old man, wise guy that he is, kept to himself, but he wasn't wise enough not to write it down, and that's what he did. He put that paper along with the rest. Ethel got the whole bunch before she came away. I have them now."

"And the money you stole from my mother!" cried Ed bitterly.

"Yes," was the cool reply. "We thought we might as well make a clean sweep. But to get back to business. I don't know how to swim. As it happens, I don't know anyone who does. My people are not much given to swimming and diving, so when fortune threw you in my way I at once thought that I might as well use you. All in the family, you know. Will you be sensible and help? or will you be ugly and force me to make you trouble? I hired this house so as to be near the spot. I am prepared to act to-night. If you'll help me out, it's halves between us. What do you say?"

"How can I say anything when I know so little? How much money is there?"

"Sixty thousand dollars."

"And who does it belong to?"

"Uncle Sam!"

"The Government?"

"Yes."

"Who hid it?"

"Oh, well, since you insist upon knowing, it was hidden by a pension agent who used to live in that house of yours up at Albany years ago. He robbed the Government. His wife was sick and dying; that's what made him sneak back to Albany. She died. He must have gone crazy, for he wrote out an account of where he had hidden the money. This he hid in the house, and then shot himself. Your father, who works in the pension office, as you know, knew all about the business. It happened ten years ago. Five years ago he hired the