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Updated: June 19, 2025
"I'll race you on even terms. Go ahead!" Both lads adjusted their timers to get more speed. The water began to curl away from the sharp prows, the motors exploded faster and faster. The race was on between the ARROW and the RED STREAK. Glancing with critical eyes at the craft of his rival, Tom saw that Andy Foger had a very fine boat.
"I won't, eh?" and Tom was a trifle nettled at the sneering manner of his rival. "No, you won't! It takes a smarter fellow than you are to build an airship that will sail. I believe I could beat you at it myself." "Oh, you think you could?" asked Tom, and this time he had mastered his emotions. He was not going to let Andy Foger make him angry. "Maybe you can beat me at racing, too?" he went on.
It seems like we might have trouble," and Abe cooly looked to see if his weapon was loaded. "Oh, of course we didn't mean to usurp any of your rights, my dear friend!" exclaimed Mr. Foger quickly, and he seemed nervous at the sight of the big revolver, while Andy hastily moved until he was behind the biggest of the sledge drivers. "We don't want to violate any of your rights," went on Mr. Foger.
None of the smugglers know me intimately." "Unless Andy Foger should be with them," suggested Mr. Damon. "Oh, Ned can fool Andy any day. Come on, Mr. Whitford. We'll get the smugglers to-night, spoil their game, and rescue Ned. Somehow, I feel that we're going to succeed." "Bless my tin dishpan!" cried Mr. Damon. "I hope we do."
Tom's fist had completed the work on the other optic, and for several days thereafter Andy Foger remained in seclusion. When he did go out there were many embarrassing questions put to him, as to when he had had the fight. Andy didn't care to answer. As for Tom, it did not take long to put a new fuse in his car, and he greatly enjoyed his ride with Miss Nestor that night.
They were eager for the raid, and it was decided to go to the Foger home, and the other house at once, first seeking to gain an entrance to the mansion. Accompanied by Tom and Ned, Mr. Whitford left the hotel. There were few persons about, and no attention was attracted. The other agents left the hotel one by one, and in the darkness gathered about the seemingly deserted mansion.
He looked up to see Ned. "Hello, Tom!" cried his chum. "Have you heard the news?" "No, what news? Has Andy Foger fallen out of his airship?" "No, but there are a whole lot of Custom House detectives in town, looking for clews to the smugglers." "Still at it, eh? Shopton can't seem to keep out of the limelight. Has anything new turned up?" "Yes. I just met Mr. Whitford.
I hope Andy didn't hear enough of our plans that night to try to follow us." "It would be just like him," returned Ned, "but I don't think they'll do it. They haven't enough information to go on. More likely Mr. Foger is going to try some new ventures to get back his lost fortune." "Well, I hope he and Andy keep away from us. They make trouble everywhere they go. Now come on, get busy."
It was enclosed by a high board fence, with a locked gate, but Tom, undoing the fastenings, stepped out into a broad, green meadow at the rear of his father's property. As he did so he saw three boys running toward him. "Hello!" exclaimed our hero. "There are Andy Foger, Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey. I wonder what they're heading this way for?"
The moment he saw Tom the red-haired lad started back, but the young inventor, leaping out of his boat, called out: "Hold on there, Andy Foger, I want to see you!" and there was menace in Tom's tone. "But, I don't want to see you!" retorted the other sulkily. "I've got no use for you." "No more have I for you," was Tom's quick reply. "But I want to return you these keys.
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