custom officer and not a spy or a detective, as we thought."
"Oh, yes, I am a sort of a detective," corrected Mr. Whitford. "And I'm a spy, too, in a way, for I've been spying on you, and some other parties in town. But you may be able to explain everything," he added, as he took a seat in the library between Ned and Tom. "I only know I was sent here to do certain work, and I'm going to do it. I wanted to make some observations before you saw me, but I wasn't quite quick enough."
"Would you mind telling me what you want to know?" asked Tom, a bit impatiently. "You mentioned smuggling, and"
"Smuggling!" interrupted Ned.
"Yes, over from Canada. Maybe you have seen something in the papers about our department thinking airships were used at night to slip the goods over the border.
"We saw it!" cried Tom eagerly. "But how does that concern me?"
"I'll come to that, presently," replied Mr. Whitford. "In the first place, we have been roundly laughed at in some papers for proposing such a theory. And yet it isn't so wild as it sounds. In fact, after seeing your airship, Tom Swift, I'm convinced"
