"That's hard to say."
"Of course we don't know everyone in town," went on Tom, "but I'm pretty well acquainted here, and I don't know of a person who would dare engage in such work."
"Maybe it's a stranger who came here, and picked out this place because it was so quiet," suggested Ned.
"That's possible. But where would he operate from?" asked Tom. "There are few in Shopton who would want to buy smuggled goods."
"They may only ship them here, and fix them so they can't be recognized by the custom authorities, and then send them away again," went on Ned. "This may be a sort of clearing-house for the smugglers."
"That's so. Well, I don't know as we have anything to do with it. Only if those fellows are using an airship I'd like to know what kind it is. Well, come on out to the shop now, and we'll see how the silent motor works."
On the way Tom passed his father, and, telling him not to work too hard in the sun, gave his parent the piece of paper to read, telling about the smugglers.
"Using airships! eh?" exclaimed Mr. Swift. "And they think there's a clew here in Shopton?
