e went down the river in a hired row-boat as far as the Custom
House, and poked about everywhere, in search of any vessel which could
by any possibility be the one he was in search of.

But he found nothing. He was, therefore, tolerably sure that the
mysterious launch lay somewhere below the Custom House. At the Custom
House stairs, he landed, and asked for a very high official--an official
inferior only to a Commissioner--whom he had entertained once in New
York, and who had met him in London on business at Lloyd's. In the large
but dingy office of this great man a long conversation took place--a
conversation in which Racksole had to exercise a certain amount of
persuasive power, and which ultimately ended in the high official
ringing his bell.

'Desire Mr Hazell--room No. 332--to speak to me,' said the official to
the boy who answered the summons, and then, turning to Racksole: 'I need
hardly repeat, my dear Mr Racksole, that this is strictly unofficial.'

'Agreed, of course,' said Racksole.

Mr Hazell entered. He was a young man of about thirty, dressed in blue
serge, with a pale, keen face, a brown moustache and a rather handsome
brown beard.

'Mr Hazell,' said the high official, 'let me introduce you to Mr
Theodore Racksole--you will doubtless be familiar with his name. Mr
Hazell,' he went on to Racksole, 'is one of our outdoor staff--what we
call an examining officer. Just now he is doing night duty. He has
a boat on the river and a couple of men, and the right to board and
examine any craft whatever. What Mr Hazell and his crew don't know about
the Thames between here and Gravesend isn't knowledge.'

'Glad to meet you, sir,' said Racksole simply, and they shook hands.

Racksole observed with satisfaction that Mr Hazell was entirely at his
ease.

'Now, Hazell,' the high official continued, 'Mr Racksole wants you to
help in a little private expedition on the river to-night. I will give
you a night's leave. I sent for you partly because I thought you would
enjoy the affair and partly because I think I can rely on you to regard
it as entirely unofficial and not to talk about it. You understand? I
dare say you will have no cause to regret having obliged Mr Racksole.'

'I think I grasp the situation,' said Hazell, with a slight smile.

'And, by the way,' added the high official, 'although the business is
unofficial, it might be well if you wore your official overcoat. See?'

'Decidedly,' said Hazell; 'I sho