now. The smugglers have been flying over the Indian Reservation, and that's why they have escaped us so far. We never thought of that spot. Tom, I believe we're on the right track at last! Shafton was probably given this to inform him where the next trick would be turned, so he could get us as far away as possible, or, maybe prevent us leaving at all."
An involuntary start on the part of the prisoner seemed to confirm this, but he kept silent.
"Of course," went on Mr. Whitford, "they may have already flown over the St. Regis reservation, and this may be an old tip, but it's worth following up."
"Why don't you ask him?" Tom wanted to know, as he nodded toward Shafton.
"He wouldn't tell the truth. I'll put him where he can't get away to warn his confederates, and then we'll go to the reservation. And to think that my man trusted him!"
Mr. Whitford was soon in communication with his headquarters by means of the wireless apparatus on Tom's airship, and a little later two custom officers arrived, with an extra horse on which they were to take their prisoner back.
"And now we'll try our luck once more," said Mr. Whitford as his men left with Shafton securely bound. "Can you make the reservation
