Part 31 (1/2)

”Do you think they know we are here, Tom?” asked Mr. Whitford, as he stood at the side of the young inventor in the motor room.

”I don't believe so, as yet. They can't hear us, and, unless they have pretty powerful gla.s.ses, they can't pick us up. We can soon tell however, if they are aware that we are following them.”

”Have you made any plan about capturing them?”

”No, I'm going to wait and see what turns up. I can't certainly chase two of them, if they separate, and that's why I'm going to cripple one if I have to.”

”But won't that be dangerous? I don't want to see any of them killed, or even hurt, though they are smugglers.”

”And I don't want to hurt them, either. If worst comes to worst I'm going to put a few holes in the wing planes of the smaller craft.

That will cause her to lose headway, and she can't keep up. They'll have to volplane to earth, but, if they know anything at all about airs.h.i.+ps, they can do that easily, and not get a bit hurt. That will put them out of the race, and I can keep on after the big s.h.i.+p. I fancy that carries the more valuable cargo.”

”I presume so. Well, don't bring the one to earth until you get over Uncle Sam's territory, and then maybe there will be a chance to capture them, and the goods too.”

”I will,” promised Tom. They were still over Canadian territory, but were rapidly approaching the border.

”I think I will send a wireless to my men in Logansville, to start out and try to pick up the crippled airs.h.i.+p after you disable her,”

decided Mr. Whitford, and as Tom agreed that this was a good plan, the wireless was soon cracking away, the government agent being an adept in its use.

”I've told them we'd give another signal to tell them, as nearly as possible where we made them take to earth,” he said to Tom, and the young inventor nodded in agreement.

”Ned in them s.h.i.+p?” asked Koku, as he came back from the pilot house to report that Mr. Damon was all right, and needed no help.

”Yes, I think Ned is in one of them,” said Tom. ”The big one most likely. Poor Ned a prisoner! Well, I'll soon have him away from them--if nothing happens,” and Tom looked about the motor room, to make sure that every piece of apparatus was working perfectly.

The two airs.h.i.+ps of the smugglers were hanging close together, and it was evident that the larger one had to make her pace slow, so as not to get ahead of the small craft. Tom followed on relentlessly, not using half his speed, but creeping on silently in the darkness.

”We're over the United States now,” said Mr. Whitford, after a glance earthward through the binoculars. ”Let 'em get a little farther over the line before you pop 'em with your electric rifle, Tom.”

Our hero nodded, and looked out of a side window to note the progress of the smugglers. For several miles the chase was thus kept up, and then, suddenly the smaller craft was seen to swerve to one side.

”They are separating!” cried Mr. Whitford, at the same time Mr.

Damon called through the tube from the pilot house:

”Which one shall I follow, Tom?”

”The big one,” the youth answered. ”I'll take care of the other!”

With a quick motion he flashed the current into the great searchlight, and, calling to Mr. Whitford to hold it so that the beams played on the small aeroplane, Tom leveled his wonderful electric rifle at the big stretch of canvas. He pressed the lever, a streak of blue flame shot out through an opened port, and, an instant later, the small craft of the smugglers was seen to stagger about, dipping to one side.

”There they come!” cried Mr. Whitford. ”They're done for!”

”One shot more,” said Tom grimly. ”It won't hurt 'em!”

Again the deadly electric rifle sent out its wireless charge, and the airs.h.i.+p slowly fluttered toward the earth.

”They're volplaning down!” cried Tom. ”That's the end of them. Now to catch the other!”

”Take the lantern!” cried Mr. Whitford. ”I'm going to send a wireless to my men to get after this disabled craft.”