Tom Swift and his Great Searchlight

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"Bless my overshoes! What can happen?" asked Mr. Damon, who, after
finding that everything in the motor room was running smoothly, had
come forward. Ned was attending to the searchlight. "What can
happen, Tom?"

"Almost anything, from a broken shaft to a short-circuited motor.
Only, I hope nothing does occur to prevent us from catching them."

"You don't mean to say that you're actually going to try to catch
them, do you, Tom?" asked the custom officer, "I thought if we could
trail them to the place where they have been delivering the goods,
before they shipped them to Shopton we'd be doing well. But I never
thought of catching them in mid-air."

"I'm going to try it," declared the young inventor. "I've got a
grappling anchor on board," he went on, "attached to a meter and
windlass. If I can catch that anchor in any part of their ship I can
bring them to a stop, just as a fisherman lands a trout. Only I've
got to get close enough to make a cast, and I want to be above them
when I do it."

"Don't you think you can catch them, Tom?" asked Mr. Damon.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I can, and yet they seem to have a faster
biplane than I gave them credit for. I guess I'll have to increase
our speed a little," and he shifted a lever which made the Falcon
shoot along at nearly doubled speed.

Still the other airship kept ahead, not far, but sufficiently so to
prevent the grappling anchor from being tossed at her rail.

"I wonder if they are the smugglers?" questioned Mr. Damon. "It
might be possible, Tom, that we're chasing the wrong craft."

"Possible, but not probable," put in Mr. Whitford. "After the clew
we got, and what the Indians told us, and then to have a biplane
come sailing over our heads at night, it's pretty sure to be the one
we want. But, Tom, can't you close up on 'em?"

"I'm going to try. The machinery is warmed up now, and I'll send it
to the limit."

Once more he adjusted the wheels and levers, and at his touch the
Falcon seemed to gain new strength. She fairly soared through the
air.

Eagerly those in the pilot house watched the craft they were
pursuing. She could be seen, in the glare of the big searchlight,
like some bird of gloom and evil omen, fluttering along ahead of
them.

"They certainly have a fine motor!" cried Tom. "I was sure I could
have caught up to them before this."

"How do you account for it?" asked Mr. Damon.

"Well, they're flying a good deal lighter than we are. They probably
have no load to speak of, while we carry a heavy one, to say nothing
of Koku."

"Diamonds aren't very heavy," put in Mr. Whitford grimly. "I think
they are smuggling diamonds to-night. How I wish we could catch
them, or trace them to where they have their headquarters."

"We'll do it!" declared Tom.

"Bless my stars! They've gone!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon.
"They've disappeared, Tom, I can't see them."

It was indeed true. Those in the pilot house peering ahead through
the darkness, could not get a glimpse of the airship they were
pursuing. The beam of the searchlight showed nothing but a black
void.

All at once the beam shifted downward, and then it picked up the
white-winged craft.

"They went down!" cried Tom. "They tried to drop out of sight."

"Can't you get them?" asked Mr. Whitford.

"Oh, yes, we can play that game too. I'll do a little volplaning
myself," and the young inventor shut off the power and coasted
earthward, while Ned, who had picked up the forward craft, kept the
searchlight playing on her.

And now began a wonderful chase. The smugglers' craft, for such she
proved later to be, did her best to dodge the Falcon. Those managing
the mechanism of the fleeing airship must have been experts, to hold
out as they did against Tom Swift, but they had this advantage, that
their craft was much lighter, and more powerfully engined as regards
her weight. Then, too, there were not so many on board, and Tom,
having a combined balloon and aeroplane, had to carry much
machinery.

It was like the flight of two big birds in the air. Now the
smugglers' craft would be mounting upward, with the Falcon after
her. Again she would shoot toward the earth, and Tom would follow,
with a great downward swoop.

Ned kept the great lantern going, and, though occasionally the craft
they were after slipped out of the focus of the beams, the young
bank clerk would pick her up again.

To the right and left dodged the forward airship, vainly endeavoring
to shake off Tom Swift, but he would not give up. He followed move
for move, swoop for swoop.

"She's turning around!" suddenly cried Mr. Damon. "She's given up
the flight, Tom, and is going back!"

"That's so!" agreed Mr. Whitford. "They're headed for Canada, Tom.
We've got to catch 'em before they get over the Dominion line!"

"I'll do it!" cried Tom, between his clenched teeth.

He swung his airship around in a big circle, and took after the
fleeing craft. The wind was against the smugglers now, and they
could not make such good speed, while to Tom the wind mattered not,
so powerful were the propellers of the Falcon.

"I think we're gaining on them," murmured Mr. Damon.

Suddenly, from the engine room, came a cry from Ned.

"Tom! Tom!" he shouted, "Something is wrong with the gas machine!
She registers over five hundred pounds pressure, and that's too
much. It's going up, and I haven't touched it!"

"Mr. Damon, take the wheel!" exclaimed the young inventor. "I've got
to see what's wrong. Hold her right on their trail."

Tom sprang to the motor room, and one glance at the gas generating
machine showed him that they were in dire peril. In some manner the
pressure was going up enormously, and if it went up much more the
big tank would blow to pieces.

"What is it?" cried Ned, from his position near the light.

"I don't know! Something wrong."

"Are you going to give up the chase?"

"I am not. Stick to the light. Koku, tell Mr. Damon to hold her on
the course I set. I'll try to get this pressure down!" And Tom Swift
began to work feverishly, while his ship rushed on through the night
in danger, every moment, of being blown to atoms. Yet the young
inventor would not give up, and descend to earth.

CHAPTER XX

SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS

The chase was kept up, and Tom, when he had a chance to look up at
the speed register, as he labored frantically at the clogged gas
machine, saw that they were rushing along as they never had before.

"Are we catching them, Ned?" he cried to his chum, who was not far
away, playing the powerful light on the smugglers' craft.

"I think we're coming closer, but it's going to be a long chase. I
don't see why we can't close up on 'em."

"Because they've got a very fast ship, Ned, and they are flying much
lighter than we are. But we'll get 'em!"

"How are you making out with that gas machine?"

"Well, I'm doing all I can, but I can't seem to get the pressure
down. I can't understand it. Some of the pipes must be clogged with
a carbon deposit. I ought to have cleaned them out some time ago."

Ned gave a hasty glance at the gauge which showed the gas pressure.
It registered six hundred pounds now, having risen a hundred in a
short time.

"And she'll go up, sure, at eight hundred," murmured Ned, as he held
the light steadily on the smugglers' aircraft. "Well, if Tom sticks
to the chase, I will too, but I think it would be better to go down,
open up everything, and let the gas escape. We could get the rascals
later."

Tom, however, did not seem to think so, for he kept on with his
task, working away at the pipes, trying to force the obstruction
out, so that the gas from the generator would flow into the bag. At
the same time he tried to shut off the generating apparatus, but
that had become jammed in consequence of the pipe clogging, and the
powerful vapor continued to manufacture itself automatically in
spite of all that Tom could do.

The only safe way out of the danger, unless he could remove the
obstruction, was to descend to earth, and, as Ned had said, open
every outlet. But to have done that in mid-air would have been
dangerous, as the large volume of gas, suddenly liberated, would
have hung about the airship in a cloud, smothering all on board. If
they were on the earth they could run away from it, and remain away
until the vapor had blown off.

"Is Mr. Damon keeping her on the course, Ned?" asked Tom, pausing a
moment to get his breath after a series of frantic efforts.

"Yes, and I think we're closing in on them a little."

"That's good. Are they still headed for the border?"

"Yes, I guess they're going to take no chances to-night. They're
going right back to Canada where they came from."

"Well, we'll be hot after 'em. Whistle through the tube, and tell
Koku to come here and give me a hand. He's with Mr. Damon in the
pilot house."

Ned sent the message, and then gave his whole attention to the
light. This was necessary, as the smugglers were resorting to
dodging tactics, in an endeavor to escape. Now they would shoot
upward, and again toward the earth, varying the performance by
steering to the right or left. Ned had constantly to shift the light
to keep them in focus, so that Mr. Damon could see where to steer,
but, with all this handicap, the eccentric man did very well, and he
was never far out in his judgment.

"By Jove!" suddenly murmured Tom, as he tried once more in vain to
open a clogged valve. "I'm afraid we can't do it. Koku, lend a hand
here!" he exclaimed as the giant entered. "See if you can twist this
wrench around, but don't break off the handle, whatever you do."

"Me shove," replied the giant simply, as he grasped the big wrench.

Once more Ned glanced at the pressure gage. It showed seven hundred
pounds now, and there was only a margin of safety of one hundred
pounds more, ere a terrific explosion would occur. Still Tom had not
given the order to descend to earth.

"Are you going to make it, Tom?" asked the government agent,
anxiously, as he stood over the young inventor.

"I--I think so," panted Tom. "Are we near the Dominion line,"

"Pretty close," was the discouraging answer. "I'm afraid we can't
get 'em before they cross. Can you use any more speed?"

"I don't know. Ned, see if you can get another notch out of her."

With one hand Ned reached for the accelerator lever on the wall near
him, and pulled it to the last notch. The Falcon shot ahead with
increased speed, but, at the same instant there came a gasp from
Koku, and the sound of something breaking.

"There! He's done it!" cried Tom in despair. "I was afraid you'd be
too strong for that wrench, Koku. You've broken off the handle. Now
we'll never be able to loosen that valve."

Ned gave one more glance at the pressure gage. It showed seven
hundred and fifty pounds, and the needle was slowly moving onward.

"Hadn't we better descend," asked Mr. Whitford in a low voice.

"I--I guess so," answered Tom, despairingly. "Where are we?"

Ned flashed the light downward for an instant.

"Just crossing over the St. Regis Indian reservation again," he
replied. "We'll be in Canada in a few minutes more."

"Where are the smugglers?"

"Still ahead, and they're bearing off to the right."

"Going toward Montford," commented the government man. "We've lost
'em for to-night, anyhow, but they didn't get their goods landed, at
any rate."

"Send her down, Ned!" exclaimed Tom, and it was high time, for the
pressure was now within twenty-five pounds of the exploding point.

Down shot the Falcon, while her rival passed onward triumphantly in
the darkness. Ned held the light on the smugglers as long as he
dared, and then he flashed it to earth to enable Mr. Damon to pick
out a good landing place.

In a few moments Tom's silent airship came to rest on a little
clearing in the forest, and Tom, with Ned's help, at once opened
every outlet of the gas machine, a thing they had not dared do while
up in the air.

"Come on, now, run, everybody!" cried Tom. "Otherwise you'll he
smothered!"

They leaped from the craft, about which gathered the fumes of the
powerful gas, as it hissed from the pipes. Running a hundred yards
away they were safe, and could return in a few minutes.

"We're in Canada," remarked Mr. Whitford, as they came to a halt,
watching the airship.

"How do you know?" asked Ned.

"As we landed I saw one of the stone boundary posts," was the
answer. "We're on English territory, and we can't touch the
smugglers if we should see them now."

"Well, we'll soon be back in Uncle Sam's land," declared Tom. "We
can go back on board the Falcon to sleep shortly. Jove! I wish I
could have caught those fellows!"

"Never mind, we'll get 'em yet," counseled Mr. Whitford.

Waiting until he was sure all the vapor had disappeared, Tom led the
way back to the Falcon. No great harm had been done, save to lose
considerable gas, and this could be remedied. Tired and disappointed
from the chase, they sought their bunks, and were soon asleep. In
the morning Tom and Ned began work on the clogged pipes.

This work was nearly accomplished by noon, when Mr. Damon, coming
back from a stroll, announced that they were but fifteen minutes
walk from the St. Lawrence River, as he had seen the sparkling
waters from a neighboring hill.

"Let's go over and have a look at it," proposed Ned. "We can easily
finish this when we get back. Besides, Tom, we don't want to get to
our regular camp until after dark, anyhow."

The young inventor was willing, and the two lads, with Mr. Whitford,
strolled toward the historic stream. As they drew near the bank,
they saw, anchored a little distance out, a small steamer.
Approaching it, as if she had just left the shore at a point near
where our friends stood, was a gasolene launch, containing several
men, while on shore, in front of a small shanty, stood another man.

This latter individual, at the sight of Tom, Ned and Mr. Whitford,
blew a shrill whistle. Those in the launch looked back. The man on
shore waved a red flag in a peculiar way, almost as the soldiers in
the army wig-wag signals.

In another moment the launch turned about, and put for shore, while
the lone man hurried back into the hut.

"Hum!" remarked Tom. "Those are queer actions."

"Suspicious actions, I should say," said Mr. Whitford. "I'm going to
see what this means."

CHAPTER XXI

MR. PERIOD ARRIVES

Greatly interested in what was about to take place, and not a little
suspicious, our friends stood on the bank of the river and watched
the motor boat returning. As it reached a little dock in front of
the hut, the man who had waved the red flag of warning came out, and
talked rapidly to those in the power craft. At the same time he
pointed occasionally to Tom, Ned and the government agent.

"This is getting interesting," remarked Mr. Whitford. "We may have
accidentally stumbled on something important Tom."

"See, they're signalling to the steamer now," spoke Ned, and, as he
said this, his companions looked, and noted the man from the hut
waving a white flag, in a peculiar manner. His signals were answered
by those on the vessel anchored out in the stream, and, a little
later, black smoke could be seen pouring from her funnel.

"Looks as if they were getting ready to leave," spoke Tom.

"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.

The man suddenly turned, and gave a shrill whistle. Instantly, from
the hut, came several men who had been in the motor boat. One or two
of them had weapons.

"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.

"Let's take a flight over where those fellows are, just to show them
what we can do," proposed Ned, and Tom and Mr. Whitford agreed to
it. Soon they were circling over the hut. The launch was just
starting out again, when a cry from the man who seemed to be a sort
of guard, drew the attention of his confederates to the noiseless
airship.

Once more the launch was turned about, and sent back to shore, while
those in it shook their fists at Tom and his friends.

"We can play tag with 'em up here!" chuckled Ned.

"There's the small vessel that pulled up anchor a while ago,"
remarked Mr. Whitford, pointing to the vessel which had steamed
around a wooded point. "They thought we had gone for good, and they
were getting ready to land the stuff. Well, we'll know where to head
for next time, when we watch for the smugglers at night."

Realizing that nothing more could be done, Tom sent his airship
toward the camp, just outside of Loganville. But he did not land
until after dark, when, making out the spot by means of the electric
lights, which were set aglow automatically at dark, he descended.

"We won't try anything to-night," said Mr. Whitford. "I doubt if the
smugglers will themselves, after their experience last night. I'll
get into town, see some of my men, and come out here to-morrow night
again."

Tom and Ned spent the following day in going carefully over the
Falcon, making some slight repairs. The great searchlight was
cleaned and adjusted, and then, as dusk came on once more Tom
remarked:

"Well, we're ready for 'em any time Mr. Whitford is."

Hardly had he spoken than the tramp of horses' feet was heard coming
along the bridle path through the woods, and a voice was heard to
exclaim:

"There, now, I understand it perfectly! You don't need to say
another word. I know it may be against the regulations, but I can
fix that. I'm the busiest man in the world, but I just had to come
up here and see Tom Swift. It's costing me a thousand dollars, but
the money is well spent. Now don't interrupt me! I know what you're
going to say! That you haven't time to bother with moving pictures.
But you have! I must have some moving pictures of your chase after
the smugglers. Now, don't speak to me, I know all about it. You
can't tell me anything. I'll talk to Tom. Are we most there?"

"Yes, we're here," answered Mr. Whitford's voice, and Tom fancied
the government agent was a bit puzzled by his strange companion.

"Bless my shoe string!" gasped Mr. Damon.

"Him picture man!" cried Koku.

"Mr. Period!" exclaimed Tom. "I wonder what he is doing here?" and
the next moment the excitable little man, for whom Tom had run so
many risks getting marvelous moving pictures, with the wizard
camera, entered the clearing where the airship was anchored.

CHAPTER XXII

HOVERING O'ER THE BORDER

"Well, Tom, you see I couldn't get along without you," exclaimed Mr.
Period, as he rushed forward and grasped Tom's hand, having alighted
in rather an undignified manner from the horse that he had ridden.
"I'm after you again."

"So I see." remarked our hero. "But I'm afraid I can't--"

"Tut! Tut! Don't say that," interrupted the moving picture man. "I
know what you're going to say. Don't do it! Don't go back on me,
Tom! Have you the wonderful moving picture camera with you."

"I have, Mr. Period, but--"

"Now! Now! That'll do," broke in the excitable little man. "If you
have it, that's enough. I want you to get me some films, showing you
in chase of the smugglers. They'll be great to exhibit in our chain
of theatres."

"How did you know I was here?" asked Tom. "Easily enough. I called
at your house. Your father told me where you were. I came on. It
cost me a thousand dollars--maybe more. I don't care! I've got to
have those films! You'll get them for me; won't you?"

"Well, I--"

"That's enough! I know what you're going to say. Of course you will!
Now how soon may I expect them. They ought to make a good run. Say
in a week?"

"It all depends on the smugglers," said Mr. Whitford.

"Yes, yes! I understand, of course. I know! This friend of yours has
been very kind to me, Tom. I looked him up as soon as I got to
Logansville, and told him what I wanted. He offered to show me the
way out here, and here I am. Let's have a look at the camera, to see
if it's in good shape. Are you going to have a try for the smugglers
to-night?"

"I think so," answered Tom. "As for the camera, really I've been so
busy I haven't had time to look at it since we started. I guess it's
all right. I don't know what made me bring it along, as I didn't
expect to use it."

"But with your great searchlight it will be just the thing,"
suggested Ned.

"Yes, I think so," added Mr. Whitford, who had been told about the
wizard instrument.

"Bless my detective badge!" cried Mr. Damon. "It may be just the
thing, Tom. You can offer moving pictures of the smugglers in court,
for evidence."

"Of course!" added Mr. Period. "Now, Tom, don't disappoint me."

"Well, I suppose I'll have to get the camera out, and set it up,"
conceded Tom with a laugh. "As you say, Mr. Damon, the pictures MAY
come in valuable. Come, Ned, you get out the camera, and set it up,
while Koku and I see to getting the ship in shape for a flight.
You'll come along, Mr. Period?"

"I don't know. I was thinking of going back. I'm losing about a
hundred dollars a minute by being away from my business."

"You'll have to go back alone," said Mr. Whitford, "as I have to be
with Tom, in case of a capture."

"Ride back alone, through these woods? Never! The smugglers might
catch me, and I'm too valuable a man to go that way! I'll take a
chance in the airship."

Ned busied himself over the wizard camera, which had been stored
away, and Mr. Period went with the young bank clerk to look after
the apparatus. Meanwhile Tom and Koku saw to it that the Falcon was
ready for a quick flight, Mr. Damon and Mr. Whitford lending
whatever aid was necessary. The horses, which the agent and Mr.
Period had ridden, were tethered in the clearing where they could
get food and water.

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