etected."

"The misfortune now is that he's gone so we cannot set a trap to catch
him in the act," said Old King Brady. "If anything now is found out
about the matter, it will only be learned from Mason himself making a
clean breast of the crooked work."

"Convict him of his other misdeeds," said the chief, lighting a cigar,
"and you'll have evidence enough to send the villain to jail for a long
time. If Mr. Dalton is dead, you can lay the crime at his door, for he
was the only person in the world who hoped to be benefited by the
demise of his benefactor."

It was late when the Bradys took leave of the chief.

On the following afternoon they were ready to depart from New York, and
they each wore a clever disguise.

While Old King Brady in boots and whiskers might have passed for a
respectable old farmer, Harry had every appearance of being a typical
Texan cowboy.

They proceeded downtown by separate routes.

Harry crossed over to the west side of the city and boarding a Belt
Line horse-car, he paid his fare and glanced around.

The boy's picturesque costume and fierce big mustache attracted the
attention of all the passengers.

He returned their curious stares with interest, and looking from one to
the other, his gaze finally rested upon a negro sitting in a corner of
the car with a big black-enamel valise on his lap.

Young King Brady could hardly repress a start.

The negro was Sim Johnson!

"Great Scott!" he muttered. "It's Mason's friend, the valet. Where is
the black rascal going with that big valise? Shall I put the nippers on
him? What is he doing over here on West street?"

He thought it over.

Harry's first impulse was to arrest the man.

Cool second-thought restrained him, however, and he muttered softly:

"No. I'll shadow him and find out where he is going. It will be time
enough to arrest him when I find he's trying to get away."

He kept a wary eye on the coon after that.

Johnson rode down to the foot of Liberty street and alighted.

To Harry's astonishment he saw the darky buy a ticket for Swamp Angel,
and then the truth flashed across the boy's mind.

"He's going to the very place I'm heading for," thought the boy, "and
he must be doing that at the request of Ronald Mason. In that case he's
sure to meet the man. What a good decoy duck he will make! By Jove,
I've only got to shadow him and he will lead me right to the very place
where his employer is concealed. Then we'll be enabl