Before doing this, however, Tom had picked out a good landing place in a clearing in the woods, and had arranged some incandescent lights on high branches of trees.  The lights enclosed a square, in the centre of which the Falcon was to drop down.

Of course it was necessary to descend to do this, to arrange the storage battery and the clock switch.  Then, so as to throw their enemies off their track, they made landings in several other places, though they did nothing, merely staying there as a sort of “bluff” as Ned called it.

“They’ll have their own troubles if they investigate every place we stopped at,” remarked Tom, “and, even if they do hit on the one we have selected for our camp they won’t see the lights in the trees, for they’re well hidden.”

This work done, they flew back toward Logansville, and sailed over Andy’s house.

“There he is, on the roof, working at his airship!” exclaimed Ned, as they came within viewing distance, and, surely enough, there was the bully, tinkering away at his craft.  Tom flew low enough down to speak to him, and, as the Falcon produced no noise, it was not difficult to make their voices heard.

“Hello, Andy!” called Tom, as he swept slowly overhead.

Andy looked up, but only scowled.

“Nice day; isn’t it?” put in Ned.

“You get on away from here!” burst out the bully.  “You are trespassing, by flying over my house, and I could have you arrested for it.  Keep away.”

“All right,” agreed Tom with a laugh.  “Don’t trespass by flying over our ship, Andy.  We also might have a gun to shoot searchlights with,” he added.

Andy started, but did not reply, though Tom, who was watching him closely, thought he saw an expression of fear come over the bully’s face.

“Do you think it was Andy who did the shooting?” asked Ned.

“No, he hasn’t the nerve,” replied Tom.  “I don’t know what to think about that affair last night.”

“Excepting that the smugglers are getting afraid of you, and want to get you out of the way,” put in the custom official.

That night, when it was very dark, the Falcon noiselessly made her way upward and sailed along until she was over the square in the forest, marked out by the four lights.  Then Tom sent her safely down.

“Now let ’em find us if they can!” the young inventor exclaimed, as he made the craft fast.  “We’ll turn in now, and see what happens to-morrow night.”

“I’ll send you word, just as soon as I get any myself,” promised Mr. Whitford, when he left the next morning.

Tom and Ned spent the day in going over the airship, making some minor repairs to it, and polishing and oiling the mechanism of the searchlight, to have it in the best possible condition.

It was about dusk when the wireless outfit, with which the Falcon was fitted, began snapping and cracking.

“Here comes a message!” cried Tom, as he clapped the receiver over his head, and began to translate the dots and dashes.