ave out the vital keynotes of the Baltic
smugglers' syndicate.

For, at last, the ban of fear was lifted, and the frightened woman
made haste to avail herself of the official clemency offered by
the authorities.

A half-dozen policemen sped away to concert with the United States
deputy marshals for the arrest of a clan of steamship clerks,
stewards, Hoboken hotel-keepers, wharf officials, and others who
had been the tools of the robust-minded Fritz Braun.

There was a happy meeting with Miss Alice Worthington, who was
now seated in Atwater's stateroom, under the care of the triumphant
Jack Witherspoon. The cable had called her from her princely
Detroit home to be the first to hear the whole story of the capture
of Braun from the lips of Atwater and the jubilant Dennis McNerney.

McNerney's triumph had been sadly dashed by the successful suicide
of the great criminal.

"Never mind," kindly said the chief of police. "It was not your
fault! This makes you a Sergeant, Dennis." The happy officer's
eyes glistened as he saluted.

And ten minutes later he knew from the rosy lips of the great heiress
that the full reward of twenty-five thousand dollars given by the
company, and the same by Miss Worthington was now payable to him
on the deposit of the recovered funds and cheques with the Western
Trading Company.

"Five thousand of this is yours, Jim," cordially cried Dennis to
Officer Condon, who had reported on board to announce the well-being
of the office boy prisoner on the yacht "Rambler."

"I'll take another job of cobbler work like that, any time,"
joyously answered Condon, "and, mind you, I'm to be your best man
at the wedding!"

For Dennis McNerney's new rank and fortune were to be the immediate
cause of his precipitating a hitherto delayed matrimony.

The craft with which Fritz Braun had hidden away the poison in the
padded coat-lining suggested to all the insiders the manner which
he intended to use to rid himself of the repentant and defiant
Irma.

While the chief of police arranged for the secret removal of Fritz
Braun's body at night, there was an earnest conference in Atwater's
stateroom.

"I leave it to you, my brothers," she said, with a pretty blush,
"to arrange for the complete rehabilitation of Randall Clayton's
memory.

"The whole business world must know that he was led to his grave
by an honorable affection, and that the momentary imprudence which
caused him to fall into Braun's tra