"Dat's all right, Massa Tom. I doan't laik dem smugger-fellers, nohow. Good-bye an' good luck!"
"Bless my grab bag!" gasped Mr. Damon. "You certainly do things, Tom."
"That's the only way to get things done," replied the young inventor. "How about you, Ned? Motor all right?"
"Sure."
"Then let her go!"
A moment later Ned had started the machinery, and Tom, in the pilot house, had pulled the lever of the elevating rudder. Whizzing along, but making scarcely any sound, the noiseless airship mounted upward, and was off on her flight to capture the men who were cheating Uncle Sam.
"What are you going to do first, when you get there, Tom?" asked Ned, as he joined his chum in the pilot house, having set the motor and other apparatus to working automatically "I mean in Logansville?"
"I don't know. I'll have to wait and see how things develop."
"That's where Mr. Foger lives, you know."
"Yes, but I doubt if he is there now. He and Andy are probably still in the old house here,
