He signalled to Mr. Damon, who pulled over the accelerating lever and instantly the Falcon responded. Now indeed the race was on in earnest. The smugglers must have understood this, for they tried all their tactics to throw the pursuing airship off the track. They dodged and twisted, now going up, and now going down, and even trying to turn back, but Tom headed them off. Ever the great beam of light shone relentlessly on them, like some avenging eye. They could not escape.
"Are we gaining?" cried Mr. Whitford.
"A little, and slowly," answered Tom. "They have a bigger load on than when we chased them before, but still they have a speed almost equal to ours. They must have a magnificent motor."
Faster and faster sped on the Falcon. The other craft kept ahead of her, however, though Tom could see that, inch by inch, he was overhauling her.
"Where do they seem to be heading for?" asked the government agent.
"Shopton, as near as I can make out," replied the youth. "They probably want to get there ahead of us, and hide the goods. I must prevent that. Mr. Damon is steering better than he ever did before."
Tom shifted the light to keep track of the
