calling to Mr. Whitford to hold it so that the beams played on the small aeroplane, Tom leveled his wonderful electric rifle at the big stretch of canvas. He pressed the lever, a streak of blue flame shot out through an opened port, and, an instant later, the small craft of the smugglers was seen to stagger about, dipping to one side.
"There they come!" cried Mr. Whitford. "They're done for!"
"One shot more," said Tom grimly. "It won't hurt 'em!"
Again the deadly electric rifle sent out its wireless charge, and the airship slowly fluttered toward the earth.
"They're volplaning down!" cried Tom. "That's the end of them. Now to catch the other!"
"Take the lantern!" cried Mr. Whitford. "I'm going to send a wireless to my men to get after this disabled craft."
Tom swung the beam of the searchlight forward and a moment later had picked up the big aeroplane. It was some distance in advance, and going like the wind. He heard the automatic camera clicking away.
"They speeded her up as soon as they saw what was on!" cried Tom. "But we haven't begun to go yet!"
