resence in
Shopton, and all sorts of rumors were flying about regarding them.
Mr. Whitford, the hotel clerk said, had gone out of town for the
day, and, as Ned and Tom did not feel like telling their suspicions
to any of the other agents, they started back home.

"I understand they're going to search every house in Shopton, before
they go away," said the clerk to the boys. "They are going to look
for smuggled goods."

"They are; eh?" exclaimed Colonel Henry Denterby, who had fought in
the Civil War. "Search my house; eh? Well I guess not! A man's house
is his castle, sir! That's what it is. No one shall enter mine, no
matter if he is a government official, unless I give him permission,
sir! And I won't do that, sir! I'll be revolutionized if I do! No,
sir!"

"Why, you haven't any smuggled goods concealed, have you, Colonel?"
slyly asked a hotel lounger.

"Smuggled goods? What do you mean, sir?" cried the veteran, who was
something of a fire-eater. "No, sir! Of course not, sir! I pay my
taxes, sir; and all my debts. But no government spy is going to come
into my house, and upset everything, sir, looking for smuggled
goods, sir. No, sir!"

Some were of one opinion, and some another, and there was quite a
discussion underway concerning the rights of the custom officers, as
the boys came out of the hotel.

Likewise there was talk about who might be the guilty ones, but no
names were mentioned, at least openly.

"Let's go past the Foger house on our way back," proposed Ned, and
as he and Tom came in front of it, they heard a pounding going on
within, but saw no signs of Andy or the carpenter.

"They're keeping mighty close," commented Tom.

The two boys worked that afternoon on the new airship, and in the
evening, when Ned came over, Tom proposed that they make another
attempt to see Mr. Whitford.

"I want to get this thing off my mind," spoke the young inventor,
and he and his chum started for the hotel. Once more they passed the
Foger house. It was in darkness, but, as the two lads stood
watching, they saw a flash of a light, as if it came through a crack
in a shutter or a shade.

"Some one is in there," declared Tom.

"Yes, probably Andy is getting his own supper. It's queer he wants
to lead that sort of a life. Well, everyone to their notion, as the
old lady said when she kissed the cow."

They stood for a few minutes watching the old mansion, and then went
on. As they passed down a lane, to take a sho