“Oh, I don’t know,” began Tom slowly.  He was not a vindicative youth, nor, for that matter, was Ned.  And Tom would not go out of his way to give information about an enemy, when it was not certain that the said enemy meant anything wrong.  “I don’t believe there’s anything in it,” finished our hero.  “Andy may have a lot of time on his hands, and, for want of something better to do, he’s fixing up his aeroplane.”

“Look!” suddenly exclaimed Ned.  “There’s that agent now!  He’s going to the depot to get a train, I guess,” and he pointed to the government man, who had so lately interviewed Tom.  “I’m going to speak to him!” impulsively declared Ned.

“I wouldn’t,” objected Tom, but his chum had already hastened on ahead, and soon was seen talking excitedly to Mr. Whitford.  Tom sauntered up in time to hear the close of the conversation.

“I’m much obliged to you for your information,” said the custom officer. “but I’m afraid, just as you say your chum felt about it, that there’s nothing in it.  This Foger chap may have been bad in the past, but I hardly think he’s in with the smugglers.  What I’m looking for is not a lad who has one airship, but someone who is making a lot of them, and supplying the men who are running goods over the border.  That’s the sort of game I’m after, and if this Andy Foger only has one aeroplane I hardly think he can be very dangerous.”

“Well, perhaps not,” admitted Ned.  “But I thought I’d tell you.”

“And I’m glad you did.  If you hear anything more.  I’ll be glad to have you let me know.  Here’s my card,” and thanking the boys for their interest Mr. Whitford passed on.

Tom and Ned gave the noiseless airship a test the next day.  The craft, which was the stanch Falcon, remodeled, was run out of the shed, Koku the giant helping, while Mr. Swift stood looking on, an interested spectator of what his son was about to do.  Eradicate, the old colored man, who was driving his mule Boomerang, hitched to a wagon in which he was carting away some refuse that had been raked up in the garden, halted his outfit nearby.

“I say, Massa Tom!” he called, as the young inventor passed near him, in making a tour of the ship.

“Well, Rad, what is it?”

“Doan’t yo’-all want fo’ ma an’ Boomerang t’ gib yo’-all a tow?  Mebby dat new-fangled contraption yo’-all has done put on yo’ ship won’t wuk, an’ mebby I’d better stick around t’ pull yo’-all home.”

“No, Rad, I guess it will work all right.  If it doesn’t, and we get stuck out a mile or two, I’ll send you a wireless message.”

“Doan’t do dat!” begged the colored man.  “I neber could read dem wireless letters anyhow.  Jest gib a shout, an’ me an’ Boomerang will come a-runnin’.”

“All right, Rad, I will.  Now, Ned, is everything in shape?”

“I think so, Tom.”

“Koku, just put a little more wind in those tires.  But don’t pump as hard as you did the other day,” Tom cautioned.