opton.

"They're slowing up. Tom!" suddenly cried Mr. Whitford who was
watching them through an open port.

"Yes, I guess they must have heated some of their bearings. Well,
here's where I capture them, if it's ever to be. Koku, let down the
grappling anchor."

"Are you really going to capture them, Tom?" asked the custom
officer.

"I'm going to try," was the answer, as Koku came back to say that
the anchor was dragging over the stern by a long rope.

"You work the light, Mr. Whitford," cried Tom. "I'm going to relieve
Mr. Damon in the pilot house. He can help you here. It will be all
over in another minute."

In the pilot house Tom grasped the steering levers. Then in a final
burst of speed he sent his craft above, and past that of the
smugglers.

Suddenly he felt a shock. It was the grappling anchor catching in
the rail of the other air craft. A shout of dismay arose from the
smugglers.

"You've got 'em! You've got 'em, Tom!" yelled Mr. Whitford.

"Bless my hasty pudding! So he has!" gasped Mr. Damon.

Changing the course of his craft Tom sent the Falcon toward the
earth, pulling the other aeroplane with him. Down and down he went,
and the frantic efforts of the smugglers to release themselves were
useless. They were pulled along by the powerful airship of our hero.

A few minutes later Tom picked out a good landing place in the dim
light of the breaking dawn, and went to earth. Jamming on the brakes
he leaped from the pilot house to the stern of his own craft,
catching up his electric rifle. The other airship, caught by the
grappling anchor at the end of a long rope, was just settling down,
those in her having the good sense to shut off their power, and
volplane when they found that they could not escape.

As the smugglers' craft touched the earth, several figures leaped
from her, and started to run away.

"Hold on!" cried Tom. "I've got you all covered with the electric
rifle! Don't move! Koku, you, and Mr. Whitford and Mr. Damon take
care of them. Tie 'em up."

"Bless my hat band!" cried the eccentric man. "What a great capture!
Where are we?"

"Not far from Shopton," answered Tom. "But look after the
prisoners."

There was a cry of astonishment from Mr. Whitford as he reached the
sullen occupants of the smugglers' craft.

"Here are the Fogers--father and son!" the agent called to Tom.
"They were in it after all. Great Scott! What a surprise. And here
are a lot of men whom I've been after f