just about the most stirring thing before the Nation to-day. At
least, here on the Eastern seaboard, where these smugglers are
organized and have a handy base in the West Indies."

The others nodded agreement, and the conversation proceeded in similar
vein until they tumbled from the train at Mineola. Speeding to the
flying field in a taxi, they were soon aboard the plane. This time
Frank took the wheel. And to the friendly farewells of the mechanics,
they took off and began the homeward journey.

After forty minutes of speedy flying, Bob, idly scanning the sky
through the glass, focussed upon a tiny speck in the distance. All
three had clamped on their radio receivers and hung the transmitters
by straps across their shoulders. Speaking into the transmitter now,
Bob announced:

"I think that radio-controlled plane is flying away from us, out to
sea, off to the right. I'm going to tune up to that 1,375-meter wave
length, and we'll see if there's a continuous dash in the receivers."

"All right," answered Jack, "but look out for your eardrums. The
interference at that wave length is very sharp and you want to be
ready to tune down at once, or your head will feel as if it were ready
to burst."

A moment later the high crashing shriek, with which Jack had become
familiar of late, signalled in the receivers, and Bob promptly tuned
down.

"Wow," said he. "That's it, all right. That's the continuous dash
which is being sent out from the secret radio plant to control that
little plane. Let's keep it in sight, Frank, and see where it goes.
Don't close in on it. Keep just about this distance. I can watch it
through the glass, and I'll give you your bearings if you lose sight
of it. Probably there is only one man aboard, and he won't have a
glass, and won't know we are following him."

"All right," responded Frank. "Here's where we'd turn toward shore.
But we'll stick to his trail a while."

With that he began edging the plane out to sea.

CHAPTER VI

A FALL INTO THE SEA

Out over the shining sea flew the glistening all-metal plane, and the
spirits of the boys lifted to the chase. The oldest fever of the blood
known to man is that of the chase. It comes down to us from our
prehistoric ancestors who lived by the chase, got their daily food by
it, wooed and won by it, and fought their battles by it in that dim
dawn of time when might was right and the law of tooth and claw was
the only rede.

Gone was the i