“Yes, we seem to have started things moving around here,” observed Ned.

“Or else we have prevented from moving,” remarked the custom agent.

“What do you mean?” Tom wanted to know.

“I mean that these men were evidently going to do something just as we arrived, and spoiled their plans.  I would say they were going to land goods from that schooner.  Now the are not.”

“What kind of goods?” asked Ned.

“Well, of course I’m not sure, but I should say smuggled goods.”

“The smugglers!” cried Tom.  “Why, they can’t be smugglers, for we are on Canadian territory.  The river isn’t the dividing line between the Dominion and the United States at this point.  The St. Lawrence lies wholly in Canada here, and the men have a right to land any goods they want to, dutiable or not.”

“That’s just it.” put in Mr. Whitford.  “They have the right, but they are afraid to exercise it, and that’s what makes me suspicious.  If they were doing a straight business they wouldn’t be afraid, no matter who saw them.  They evidently recognize us, by description, if by no other means, and they know we are after smugglers.  That’s why they stopped the brining of goods from that vessel to shore.  They want to wait until we are gone.”

“But we couldn’t stop them from landing goods, even if they know we are working for Uncle Sam,” declared Tom.

“That’s very true, but it is evidently their intention, not only to land goods here, which they have a perfect right to do, but to send them into the United States, which they have not a right to do without paying the duty.”

“Then you really think they are the smugglers?” asked Ned.

“I’m pretty sure of it.  I think we have stumbled on one of the places where the goods are landed, and where they are loaded into the airships.  This is the best luck we could have, and it more than makes up for not catching the rascals last night.  Now we know where to get on their trail.”

“If they don’t change the place,” observed Tom.

“Oh, of course, we’ve got to take that chance.”

“Here’s one of them coming over to speak to us, I guess,” remarked Tom in a low voice, as he observed the man, who had waved the flag approaching.  There was no doubt of his intention for, as soon as he came within talking distance, the stranger called out: 

“What are you fellows doing here?”

“Looking at the river,” replied Mr. Whitford, calmly.

“Well, you’d better find some other place for a view.  This is private property, and we don’t like trespassers.  Get a move on—­get out!”

“Are we doing any harm?” asked the agent.

“I didn’t say you were.  This is our land, and we don’t like strangers snooping around.  That’s all.”

“Particularly when you are going to land some goods.”

“What do you mean?” gasped the man.

“I guess you know well enough,” was Mr. Whitford’s reply.