me 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.

Unfortunately the door behind him was not shut tight.

As he pressed his back against it, it flew inward all of a sudden and
pitching over backward, the detective fell sprawling upon the floor of a
small room adjoining the one occupied by La Croix and his wife.

He heard the Frenchman utter a startled cry.

Like a tiger he sprang into the room and saw the detective.

"_Parbleu!_" he hissed, a look of rage and hate upon his dark face. "Ze
secret police. Watching me, eh? I show you, Monsieur."

He seized an iron bar standing in the corner and as the old detective was
upon the point of scrambling to his feet, he dealt the officer a fearful
blow that knocked him senseless.

He just had time to bang the door shut to prevent the person who was coming
from upstairs from seeing what was going on.

Just then his wife rushed in.

"What is the matter, Paul?" she demanded.

"Old King Brady!" he replied, pointing at the old detective excitedly.

"Ah;" was her cool reply. "He has found our refuge, eh?"

"Yes. An' probable he has been listen to our talk."

"That is very dangerous for us, Paul."

"Not since I 'ave him at my mercy. _Sacriste!_ When I geet through wiz heem
now, he not weel trouble us again een wong hurry."

Fearing the detective might recover he got a piece of rope and bound and
gagged Old King Brady.

When this was done an idea suddenly flashed across his mind, and he bounded
to his feet and exclaimed, hoarsely:

"Where ees ze othair?"

"I don't understand you," his wife replied.

"Young King Brady."

"Do they always travel together?"

"Sairtainly."

"Then the boy must be lurking near here."

"Wait. I find heem eef I can."

He hastened from the room and made a search of the hall. Then he quietly
passed downstairs and there caught view of the young det