THE NIGHT RACE
The three looked at each other. For a moment they could not
understand, and then, as they stood there, the meaning came to them.
"The smugglers!" whispered Tom.
"Of course!" agreed Mr. Damon. "And they must have taken him for
you, Tom, for he had on your coat and cap. What can they have done
with him?"
"Taken him away, that's evident," spoke Tom. "Let's look around, and
see if we can find him."
They looked, but to no purpose. Ned had disappeared. There were the
signs of a struggle, the fish rod was broken in several places, as
if Ned had used it as a club, and the ground was torn up.
"Bless my tin whistle!" cried Mr. Damon. "What shall we do?"
For a moment no one knew what to say, then, as they looked at each
other in silence, a voice called:
"I say! What's up? What's the matter? Where are you all? Hey, Tom
Swift!"
"It's Mr. Whitford!" cried Tom. "He's just in time." Then he called
in louder tones:
"Here we are! In the woods by the trout brook! Come on over! Ned is
gone!"
There was a commotion in the bushes, the trampling of a horse, and a
moment later the government agent had joined the others.
"What's this?" he cried. "Ned gone? What do you mean?"
"He's missing. The smugglers have him, I'm afraid," explained Tom,
and then he gave the details.
"It certainly looks so," agreed Mr. Whitford. "His wearing of your
coat and cap fooled them. They must have spied out this camping
place, and they were in hiding. When they saw Ned coming to fish
they took him for you. Having failed in their attempt to damage the
airship, they decided to get her captain. Probably they thought that
if they did the Falcon could not be run, and they would be safe. But
they got the wrong man."
"Then we must get Ned back at once!" cried Tom. "Come on, we'll
start right away! Where do you think we can nab them, Mr. Whitford?"
"Wait a minute," suggested the government agent. He seemed in deep
thought, and paced up and down. It was clear that a great question
was confronting him.
"Well!" exclaimed Tom impatiently, "if we're going to get Ned we
must start at once."
"Perhaps it would be best not to try to rescue Ned at once," said
the custom house man after a pause.
"What!" cried Tom. "Not rescue Ned, my best chum?"
"Not at once," repeated Mr. Whitford. "Look here, Tom. I know it
seems a hard thing to say, but perhaps if we proceed on our original
plan, to hover over the border, and get on the trail of the
smugglers, chasing them to where they land the goods in the United
States, it will be best."
"And not rescue Ned?"
"We can best rescue him by catching the smugglers."
"Then you think--"
"That they have him with them--on board one of their airships very
likely. If we get THEM we'll have NED."
"Then we'll get 'em!" cried Tom with energy. "Come on back to the
Falcon. We'll get ready for a big flight!"
"Yes, I think they'll make a desperate effort to-night," went on the
agent. "They have a lot of goods ready to rush over the border, and
the fact that they tried to capture you, shows that they are ready
to pull off a big trick. I think if we can catch them to-night, it
will put an end to their operations, and, at the same time, bring
Ned back to us."
"Where do you think they will start to cross the line?" asked Tom.
"Near the place where we saw the man waving the flags. I have
information to the effect that they have a store of valuable goods
there. They imagine that they have the master of the airship, and
the owner of the great searchlight in their power, and that they can
not be molested, so they will be bold."
"But they'll soon find out that Ned isn't Tom," said Mr. Damon.
"No they won't! Not if it depends on Ned!" cried Tom. "Ned is game.
He'll soon get wise to the fact that they have taken him for me, and
he'll carry on the deception. None of the smugglers know me
intimately."
"Unless Andy Foger should be with them," suggested Mr. Damon.
"Oh, Ned can fool Andy any day. Come on, Mr. Whitford. We'll get the
smugglers to-night, spoil their game, and rescue Ned. Somehow, I
feel that we're going to succeed."
"Bless my tin dishpan!" cried Mr. Damon. "I hope we do."
Slowly, and with no very cheerful hearts, they filed away from the
scene of Ned's capture. In spite of the fact that they did not think
he would be harshly treated, they worried about him, Tom especially.
A hasty supper was eaten, and then, Tom, having seen that everything
aboard the ship was in good order, sent her aloft on what he hoped
would be the last chase after the smugglers. He decided to have Mr.
Damon steer the craft, as this was comparatively easy, once she was
started on her course, while the young inventor would manage the
searchlight, and start the automatic wizard camera, in case there
was anything to photograph.
Up and up went the Falcon, and soon she was making her way toward
the St. Regis Indian reservation, near which it was expected the
smugglers would start. Tom put out every light, as he wanted to
remain in darkness, until he could see a moving glow in the sky that
would tell him of a rival airship on the wing.
It did not take them long to reach the desired spot, and they
hovered in the air over it, every one with tense nerves, waiting for
what would happen next.
Tom did not want to show his searchlight just yet, as he feared the
gleam of it might stop the operations of the smugglers. So he waited
in darkness, approaching close to the earth in his noiseless ship
several times, and endeavoring to see something through the powerful
night glasses.
Suddenly, from below them, came a subdued throb and hum of a motor.
"There they are!" exclaimed Mr. Damon.
"I think so," agreed Tom. He looked below. He saw two flickering
lights, rather far apart. Mr. Whitford observed them at the same
moment.
"There are TWO of them!" exclaimed the agent, "TWO airships, Tom!"
"So I see. Koku, get out my electric rifle. We can't chase two, if
they separate, so I may have to stop one. It's best to be prepared.
I'm going to follow them in the dark, until they get over the
border, and then I'll turn on the light and the camera. Then it will
be a race to the finish."
The twin lights came nearer. Tom stood with his mouth to the signal
tube that communicated with Mr. Damon in the pilot house. From a
side window he watched the smugglers' airships. They shot upward and
then came on straight ahead, to pass to one side of him. Now they
were past. Tom started the wizard camera.
"Half speed ahead!" the young inventor signalled, and the Falcon
shot forward. The night race was on.