l you that if there
was nothing to make you doubt it?"

"There is nothing to make me doubt it. See here, Hilliard, I don't for
the life of me know what you're getting at. For the Lord's sake explain
yourself."

"Ah," Hilliard returned with a smile, "you see you weren't brought up in
the Customs. Do you know, Merriman, that the thing of all others we're
keenest on is an import trade that doesn't pay?" He paused a moment,
then added slowly: "Because if a trade which doesn't pay is continued,
there must be something else to make it pay. Just think, Merriman. What
would make a trade from France to this country pay?"

Merriman gasped.

"By Jove, Hilliard! You mean smuggling?"

Hilliard laughed delightedly.

"Of course I mean smuggling, what else?"

He waited for the idea to sink into his companion's brain, and then went
on:

"And now another thing. Bordeaux, as no one knows better than yourself,
is just the center of the brandy district. You see what I'm getting at.
My department would naturally be interested in a mysterious trade from
the Bordeaux district. You accidentally find one. See? Now what do you
think of it?"

"I don't think much of it," Merriman answered sharply, while a wave
of unreasoning anger passed over him. The SUGGESTION annoyed him
unaccountably. The vision of Madeleine Coburn's clear, honest eyes
returned forcibly to his recollection. "I'm afraid you're out of it this
time. If you had seen Miss Coburn you would have known she is not the
sort of girl to lend herself to anything of that kind."

Hilliard eyed his friend narrowly and with some surprise, but he only
said:

"You think not? Well, perhaps you are right. You've seen her and I
haven't. But those two points are at least INTERESTING--the changing of
the numbers and the absence of a return trade."

"I don't believe there's anything in it."

"Probably you're right, but the idea interests me. I was going to make a
proposal, but I expect now you won't agree to it."

Merriman's momentary annoyance was subsiding.

"Let's hear it anyway, old man," he said in conciliatory tones.

"You get your holidays shortly, don't you?"

"Monday week. My partner is away now, but he'll be back on Wednesday. I
go next."

"I thought so. I'm going on mine next week--taking the motor launch,
you know. I had made plans for the Riviera--to go by the Seine, and from
there by canal to the Rhone and out at Marseilles. Higginson was coming
with me, but as yo