Lawrence to-night."
"I will. Don't you want to come along?"
"Why, yes. I believe I'm game. I'll join you later in the day," Mr.
Whitford added, as Tom told him where the Falcon was anchored.
The young inventor got back to find a bigger crowd than ever around
his airship. But Koku and the others had kept them at a distance.
With the government agent aboard Tom sent his craft into the air at
dusk, the crowd cheering lustily. Then, with her nose pointed toward
the St. Lawrence, the Falcon was on her way to do a night patrol,
and, if possible, detect the smugglers.
It was monotonous work, and unprofitable, for, though Tom sent the
airship back and forth for many miles along the wonderful river that
formed the path from the Great Lakes to the sea, he had no glimpse
of ghostly wings of other aircraft, nor did he hear the beat of
propellers, nor the throb of motors, as his own noiseless airship
cruised along.
It came on to rain after midnight, and a mist crept down from the
clouds, so that even with the great searchlight flashing its
powerful beams, it was difficult to see for any great distance.
"Better give it up, I guess," suggested Mr. Whitford toward morning,
when they had covered many miles, and had turned back toward
Logansville.
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