"I guess you'd better go now," said the first man sharply. "You're
not in the United States now, you know."
"It's easy to see that, by the POLITENESS of the residents of this
section," put in Tom.
"None of your back talk! Get away from here!" cried the man. "If you
don't go peaceably--"
"Oh, we're going," interposed Mr. Whitford calmly. "But that isn't
saying we won't come back. Come on, boys. We'll get over on Uncle
Sam's territory."
The group of men stood silently watching them, as they filed back
through the woods.
"What do you make of it?" asked Tom of the agent.
"I'm positive that I'm right, and that they're the smugglers. But I
can't do anything on this side of the line. If ever I can catch them
across the border, though, there'll be a different story to tell."
"What had we better do?" inquired Ned.
"Go back to our airship, and leave for Logansville. We don't need to
land until night, though, but we can make a slow trip. Is the gas
machine all right again, Tom?"
"Practically so. If that hadn't gone back on me we would have had
those fellows captured by this time."
"Never mind. We did our best."
It did not take Tom and his chum long to complete the repairs, and
soon they arose in the air.
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