“Your reasoning is very sensible,” commented Old King Brady, “but you must recollect that the girl smuggler is very smart.  She is used to danger.  This may not be her first voyage abroad alone.  In fact, she has probably been making many trips to the other side, bringing back jewels to be smuggled ashore.”

“Judging by what that letter said,” remarked Harry, “the man and his wife are likely to go to Canada now and wait there for the girl’s return with that large consignment of precious stones.  We shall be obliged to follow them there.  We can’t arrest them now on suspicion, nor can we pull La Croix in for trying to murder us in the Fifth Avenue Hotel elevator.  If we do, it will interfere with our capturing the girl when she returns with those jewels.”

“I’m sorry to say your view of the matter is correct, Harry.”

“There goes the woman up Sixth avenue.  She’s a good walker.  It looks to me as if she were heading for the French district in the neighborhood of Third street.  Queer she didn’t ride.”

They tracked her to West Broadway.

Here she suddenly turned into the hall of a very old house across the front of which hung the sign of an artificial flower maker.

Old King Brady passed into the hall after her and Harry remained on guard at the door.

Going up a flight of stairs, the woman knocked at a door and when it was opened, she passed into a room, closing the door after her.

The detective glided over to the door and listened.

Voices were heard inside, a man crying out eagerly: 

“Well, Lena, ees ze child gone?”

“Yes, Paul,” Mrs. La Croix replied, in sad tones.  “The Champagne just departed with our daughter.  We shall not see her for a month.”

“Ah, but when she return we make ze largest stake of our lives.”

“I wish this risky business was ended, Paul.  I’m getting sick of it.  We do not lead the peaceful lives of other people.  It is a constant excitement and fear of police interference.”

“Do not complain, Lena.  Zees ees ze last treep ze child make.  Eef eet ees wong success, we make so much dollaires zat we can retiaire an’ leeve ze life of ease for ze rest of our days, by gar!”

He laughed and the woman replied, resignedly: 

“Well, I hope your dream will come true, Paul.”

“Take zees seat an’ ’ave your suppair, my dear.  You need ze rest, for to-night we leave New York by rail for Canada, for I have sold all ze stones I had, an’ mail my draft to Paris.”

Old King Brady smiled and muttered: 

“I’m glad you’ve told me your business, old fellow.”

The shadows of twilight had fallen by this time and the hall was getting dark.

Hearing some one coming downstairs from an upper floor, the old detective retreated along the hall and crouched back in a doorway.

He pressed himself back flat against the door hoping the person who was coming would pass him in the gloom without observing his presence.