rt cut, they approached
a small house, that, in times past, had been occupied by the
gardener of the Foger estate. Now, that too, was closed. But, in
front of it stood a wagon with a big canvass cover over it, and, as
the lads came nearer, the wagon drove off quickly, and in silence.
At the same time a door in the gardener's house was heard to shut
softly.

"Did you see that?" cried Ned.

"Yes, and did you hear that?" asked Tom.

"They're carting stuff away from the old gardener's house," went on
Ned. "Maybe it's there that the smugglers are working from! Let's
hurry to see Mr. Whitford."

"Hold on!" exclaimed Tom in a whisper. "I've got one suggestion.
Ned. Let's tell all we know, and what we think may be the case, but
don't make any rash statements. We might be held responsible. Tell
what we have seen, and let the government men do the rest."

"All right. I'm willing."

They watched the wagon as it passed on out of sight in the darkness,
and then hurried on to see Mr. Whitford. To say that the custom
officer was astonished at what the boys related to him, is putting
it mildly. He was much excited.

"I think we're on the right trail!" he exclaimed. "You may have done
a big service for Uncle Sam. Come on!"

"Where?" the boys asked him.

"We'll make a raid on the old Foger home, and on the gardener's
house at once. We may catch the rascals red-handed. You can have the
honor of representing Uncle Sam. I'll make you assistant deputies
for the night. Here are some extra badges I always carry," and he
pinned one each on the two young men.

Mr. Whitford quietly summoned several of his men to his hotel room,
and imparted to them what he had learned. They were eager for the
raid, and it was decided to go to the Foger home, and the other
house at once, first seeking to gain an entrance to the mansion.

Accompanied by Tom and Ned, Mr. Whitford left the hotel. There were
few persons about, and no attention was attracted. The other agents
left the hotel one by one, and in the darkness gathered about the
seemingly deserted mansion.

"Stand ready now, men," whispered Mr. Whitford. "Tom, Ned and I will
go up the steps first, and knock. If they don't let us in I'm going
to smash the door. Then you follow."

Rather excited by what was about to take place, the two chums
accompanied the chief custom agent. He rapped loudly on the door of
the house, where only darkness showed.

There was a moment of silence, and then a