The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler

Bradys and the Girl Smuggler,
The

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Title: The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler or, Working for the Custom
House
Author: Francis W. Doughty
Release Date: October 23, 2005 [EBook #16919]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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BRADYS AND THE GIRL SMUGGLER ***

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[Illustration: "Madam," said Old King Brady, "here is a warrant for the
arrest of your daughter. The charge is smuggling!" Calmly taking the

document, the lady read it. Harry opened the door and let the hall-boy
go.]

SECRET SERVICE.
OLD AND YOUNG KING BRADY DETECTIVES.
_Issued Weekly--By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second
Class Matter at the New York, N.Y., Post Office, March 1, 1899.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1900, in the office of
the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D.C., by Frank Tousey, 24
Union Square, New York._
No. 79. NEW YORK, July 27, 1900. Price 5 Cents.
The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler
OR,
Working for the Custom House.
BY A NEW YORK DETECTIVE.

CHAPTER I.
THE BRADYS AS CUSTOM HOUSE DETECTIVES.
The Collector of the Port of New York sat in his office in the Custom
House with a look of annoyance upon his face.
Several of his chief inspectors were standing about the room with the
most uneasy expressions, for they were being censured unmercifully.
"I tell you, gentlemen," the Collector was saying, angrily, "I am very
much disgusted with the poor service your department is giving. I am

determined to stop this wholesale smuggling. If none of you are
capable of doing the work for which you are liberally paid, I'll have to
get somebody to do the work for you. Do you understand?"
"But, sir," began one of the inspectors, humbly, "we've done our best--"
"And accomplished nothing!" snapped the Collector.
"How could we, sir? The smuggler you want us to catch does not resort
to the usual tricks such people adopt to avoid paying duty on the
diamonds and other precious stones, which you say are smuggled into
this country. It's because he's such a sly and clever rogue, that we can't
locate him. We've resorted to every known method to discover the
villain, but can't make any headway."
"Then you admit you are beaten?"
"Yes," was the hesitating reply.
"Hum!" grunted the Collector, in tones of contempt. "A nice lot of
government detectives you fellows are to admit such a defeat. However,
I've taken the matter into my own hands now."
"Yours?"
"Yes! I've engaged two of the most skillful men in the Secret Service to
run down this smuggler. I refer to Old and Young King Brady."
"Indeed!" sneered the inspector, whose pride was wounded. "I'm sure if
we can't find that smuggler, they can't."
"They can't, eh?" grimly demanded the Collector. "Well, you'll find out
whether they can or not, Andrew Gibson, for they'll be here presently to
take your work right out of your hands. Do you hear me?"
With glum looks the inspectors glanced at each other.
It was a bitter pill for them to swallow, to have an outsider come in to
do the work they found themselves unable to cope with.

Finally Gibson affected a mocking laugh, and said, derisively:
"What can a Secret Service man do in a Custom House case, if we men,
educated for it, can't finish a job we find too hard for us?"
"They'll find the smuggler I'm after," replied the Collector, banging his
fist on the desk to emphasize his remark. "I've got every faith in that
remarkable man and boy. They are the most skillful detectives in the
profession. There's nothing they can't do in their own line, and you'll
find it out soon."
"On police and criminal cases--"
"On any work!" roared the Collector, excitedly.
"They must be marvels, indeed!" sneered Gibson.
"So they are, sir--so they are."
"I'd like to see these wonders!"
Just then two men in uniform standing apart from the rest, advanced.
They wore the costume of boarding officers, the dark-blue uniforms
being garnished with brass buttons and on their heads were caps with
bands across the front bearing the word in gilt letters, "Inspector."
One of these men was tall and muscular, with a bushy black beard,
deep gray eyes and a heavy mass of dark-brown hair.
His companion looked like a mere boy, with a