ferent freight
cars. They noted the Grand Trunk and Canadian Pacific predominated,
giving rise to the thought that this was bound for the far west via the
Canadian Rockies.

As the caboose appeared in sight, the train seemed to slacken speed for
a bit, and a man jumped off the back end, waving a goodbye to the train
crew as he did.

"Well, talk about luck," shouted Garry, as he saw the features of the
man. "There's Fernald, the Customs agent!"

He was right, and as soon as Fernald saw them, he hailed them, asking in
surprise how they knew he was going to arrive at that time, and on a
freight instead of a passenger train.

"To tell you the truth, Mr. Fernald," explained Garry, "you were the
last man on earth that we expected to see right this minute. The reason
for our being here involves the telling of a long story, and we must
keep a six o'clock engagement in order to prevent an armed posse from
going in search of us. Perhaps you'd better come along, and then we can
tell you the story at the same time we tell Mr. Everett."

"Who's Everett?" asked Fernald quickly.

"Oh, he's a fine old chap, used to be collector at the Customs House
when it was located here some years ago. We did him a slight favor a
little while ago, and he repaid us very handsomely by giving us
information that was the means of our getting a clue that means the
capture of the gang Sunday night," answered Garry, as they walked along.

They reached the Everett house just on the stroke of six, and were
admitted by Ruth even before they rang the bell. Evidently she had been
watching for them from the window.

"Oh, I'm glad you are back all safe and sound. I worried so that I
hardly slept, and Granddad woke me three or four times to know if you
had come back. His orders were to have you go right up the minute you
came. But who is this gentleman?"

"Pardon me, Miss Ruth, this is Mr. Fernald, one of the men of the
service, and he will take charge from now on. We're thankful he came,
for we were almost up a stump as to how to proceed now," said Garry.
Indeed all three were thankful that Fernald had arrived, for they felt
the need for the counsel of an older head than theirs, and one more
experienced in the work of capturing a smuggler outfit than were they.

They found Mr. Everett in the act of struggling to tie a tie with one
hand, and muttering fiery exclamations at his failure to accomplish the
feat speedily. Garry did the job for him, and afte