As stated, our hero knew his peril and knew when he started in just what he would have to face, but he went straight ahead, and when the storm broke he was prepared.

We have stated that twenty ruffians were upon his track, and the statement was no exaggeration.

Spencer Vance went under cover—­immediately assumed a role different from any under which he had appeared during any time that he was trailing down the smugglers.

Our hero was, “when unadorned,” or rather when not under any sort of disguise, a really handsome and delicate-featured man, and although a man of extraordinary strength, he was not an over-sized man, but on the contrary a little under the average height; but he was a full-blooded, resolute, athletic fellow all the same, and well equal to the duties of his perilous profession.

From the very moment that the arrests were publicly known the detective was on his guard, and that same night had a genuine intimation of his danger.

The detective wanted to see a certain man in the Government employ, and went down to a Government building, situated on the Battery near South Ferry.  He had gotten himself up as a night-watchman, hoping in that way to escape observation.

Vance saw his man and left the building, and was proceeding across the Battery, when he observed that he was being followed.  The officer at once suspected that there was a possibility that someone of the scoundrels had “tumbled” to his identity, and he resolved to “shake” the ruffian at once.  Changing his course, he walked over toward the sea, on the North River side of the park, and stood leaning over the hand-rail, when a man sauntered up alongside.

“A pleasant evening,” said the new-comer.

It was still early in the evening.

The detective did not make an immediate reply, but, scanned the speaker from head to feet. he was seeking to ascertain whether or not he recognized the man.

The fellow was a foreigner—­an ugly looking chap, and just such a villain as could be employed for any sort of desperate work for pay.

The detective made up his mind to feel his man; and should he discover that the fellow really did not know him, and was dogging him, he was resolved to clap the darbies on him.

“Yes, it’s a pleasant evening,” said the detective, slowly.

“Hard times for poor men now,” remarked the stranger.

“So they tell me,” answered Vance.

“You’re all right,” said, the man.

“How am I all right?”

“Oh, you fellows in Government employ always get your money and have a good chance for pickings.”

The detective eyed the man’s face and answered: 

“I do not get much of a chance to pick anything.”

“I thought you fellows had a good show.”

“How do you know I’m in the Government employ?”

“You are, I—­reckon.”

“Mebbe I am.”