“They must have hidden them.”

“Search the room.”

“Don’t move, ladies, or we’ll handcuff you.”

“No need of that ignominy,” said the girl.

They made a thorough and painstaking search of the place, but failed to meet with any success and finally gave it up.

The diamonds remained missing.

Both were greatly puzzled.

Suddenly an idea occurred to Harry and he cried: 

“The hall-boy!”

“What about him?” asked his partner.

“He may have carried off the parcel.”

“See!”

“You guard them.”

“All right.”

Harry rushed out of the room.

Finding the boy down in the office, Harry seized him.

“Where did you put the package that girl gave you?” he roared.

The boy turned pale with fright, and a panic seized him as he suddenly thought his share in the matter was known.

With bulging eyes and chattering teeth, he gasped: 

“For mercy’s sake don’t arrest me, and I’ll tell you, sir.”

“Well?  Speak out—­quick!”

“The young lady told me to give it to her father.”

“And you did?”

“Yes, sir."’

“Where was he?”

“In his room.”

“Is he there yet?”

“I don’t know.”

Harry rushed upstairs again.

Pushing open the door of Paul La Croix’s room he entered.

None of the man’s possessions was disturbed, but Harry caught view of the note he had written and placed on his bureau.

The boy picked it up and read the following lines: 

“Monsieur Brady:  By the time you get this letter I will be far away.  You are duped.  Do as you please with my innocent wife and daughter.  You can prove nothing against them.  An outsider did the smuggling.  That lets us out.  I defy you.  Do your worst.  La Croix.”

Young King Brady smiled at the note.

“The raving of a madman!” he muttered scornfully.  “If he imagines he has beaten us, we will soon relieve him of that notion.”

He carried the note to Old King Brady and exclaimed: 

“La Croix has escaped with the diamonds.”

“How did he get them?” asked the old detective, curiously.

“Clara sent them to him by the hall-boy.”

“As I feared!”

“We can’t convict these women.”

“No.  Release them.”

“Ladies, you are free.”

“Thank you,” said Clara, with a pleasant smile.

“Go your way.  We can’t secure anything but revenge by prosecuting you, and that isn’t what we are after.  I must say, though, Mrs. La Croix, that was an inhuman thing for you and your husband to do, boxing us up and shipping us to California.  We are more merciful to you when it lies in our power to put you in prison.”

The woman’s face reddened with shame.

She hung her head, but made no reply.