"I don't think they really want any passengers, for it is a private expedition conducted by Lord Harway, but you might see him."
"I'll do that, and if money or finesse will get me a berth on the vessel I am off to-day."
Old Broadbrim finished his breakfast in a jiffy, and before the hour ended he stood in Lord Harway's private office.
The story he told, one not connected with a chase after a murderer, enlisted his lordship's sympathies, and at the close of it the detective was told that he could have a berth on board the yacht Maybloom, one of the fastest vessels of the kind afloat.
Once more he was in luck, and there was some hope of beating Merle Macray to Melbourne.
Old Broadbrim had few preparations to make, and by the time he was through the yacht was ready to sail.
As he stepped aboard he glanced toward the dock, and caught sight of a figure that startled him.
It was the man of the previous night—the spy who had tracked him to the mouth of the alley.
He had not abandoned the chase, but had tracked him to the yacht, and knew that he was bound for Australia.
Old Broadbrim, however, did not hesitate.