CHAPTER XVII
WHAT THE INDIAN SAW
"Hello!" cried Tom. "What's up, Koku?"
"Him up!" replied the giant with a laugh, as he looked at hissquirming prisoner, whose feet he had lifted from the ground.
"No, I mean what was he doing?" went on Tom, with a smile at theliteral way in which the giant had answered his question.
"I wasn't doing anything!" broke in the man. "I'd like to know if Ihaven't a right to walk through these woods, without being grabbedup by a man as big as a mountain? There'll be something up that youwon't like, if you don't let me go, too!" and he struggled fiercely,but he was no match for giant Koku.
"What was he doing?" asked Tom of his big servant, ignoring the man.Tom looked closely at him, however, but could not remember to haveseen him before.
"I walking along in woods, listen to birds sing," said Koku simply,taking a firmer hold on his victim. "I see this fellow come along,and crawl through grass like so a snake wiggle. I to myself thinkthat funny, and I watch. This man he wiggle more. He wiggle morestill, and then he watch. I watch too. I see him have knife in hand,but I am no afraid. I begin to go like snake also, but I biggersnake than he."
"I guess so," laughed Tom, as he watched the man trying in vain toget out of Koku's grip.
"Then I see man look up at balloon bag, so as if he like to cut itwith knife. I say to myself, 'Koku, it is time for you to go intobusiness for yourself.' You stand under me?"
"I understand!" exclaimed Tom. "You thought it was time for you toget busy."
"Sure," replied Koku. "Well, I get business, I give one jump, and Iam so unlucky as to jump with one foot on him, but I did not meanit. I go as gentle as I can."
"Gentle? You nearly knocked the wind out of me!" snarled theprisoner. "Gentle! Huh!"
"I guess he was the unlucky one, instead of you," put in Tom. "Well,what happened next?"
"I grab him, and--he is still here," said Koku simply. "He throwknife away though."
"I see," spoke Tom. "Now will you give an account of yourself, orshall I hand you over to the police?" he asked sternly of the man."What were you sneaking up on us in that fashion for?"
"Well, I guess this isn't your property!" blustered the man. "I haveas good a right here as you have, and you can't have me arrested forthat."
"Perhaps not," admitted Tom. "You may have a right on this land, butif you are honest, and had no bad intentions, why were you sneakingup, trying to keep out of sight? And why did you have a big knife?"
"That's my business, young man."
"All right, then I'll make it MY business, too," went on the younginventor. "Hold him, Koku, until I can find Mr. Damon, or Ned, andI'll see what's best to be done. I wish Mr. Whitford was here."
"Aren't you going to let me go?" demanded the man.
"I certainly am not!" declared Tom firmly. "I'm going to find outmore about you. I haven't any objections to any one coming to lookat my airship, out of curiosity, but when they come up like a snakein the grass and with a big knife, then I get suspicious, and I wantto know more about them."
"Well, you won't know anything more about me!" snarled the fellow."And it will be the worse for you, if you don't let me go. You'dbetter!" he threatened.
"Don't pay any attention to him, Koku," said Tom. "Maybe you'dbetter tie him up. You'll find some rope in the motor room."
"Don't you dare tie me up!" blustered the prisoner.
"Go ahead and tie him," went on Tom. "You'll be free to guard theship then. I'll go for Ned and Mr. Damon."
"Tie who up? What's the matter?" asked a voice, and a moment laterthe government agent came along the woodland path on his horse."What's up, Tom? Have you captured a wild animal?"
"Not exactly a wild animal. Mr. Whitford. But a wild man. I'm gladyou came along. Koku has a prisoner." And Tom proceeded to relatewhat had happened.
"Sneaking up on you with a knife; eh? I guess he meant business allright, and bad business, too," said Mr. Whitford. "Let me get a lookat him, Tom," for Koku had taken his prisoner to the engine room,and there, amid a storm of protests and after a futile struggle onthe part of the fellow, had tied him securely.
Tom and the custom officer went in to look at the man, just as Nedand Mr. Damon came back from their stroll in the woods. It wasrapidly getting dusk, and was almost time for the start of the usualflight, to see if any trace could be had of the smugglers.
"There he is," said Tom, waving his hand toward the bound man whosat in a chair in one corner of the motor room. The young inventorswitched on the light, and a moment later Mr. Whitford exclaimed:
"Great Scott! It's Ike Shafton!"
"Do you know him?" asked Tom eagerly.
"Know him? I should say I did! Why he's the man who pretended togive one of my men information about smugglers that drew us off onthe false scent. He pretended to be for the government, and, all thewhile, he was in with the smugglers! Know him? I should say I did!"
A queer change had come over the prisoner at the sight of Mr.Whitford. No longer was Shafton surly and blustering. Instead heseemed to slink down in his chair, bound as he was, as if trying toget out of sight.
"Why did you play double?" demanded the government agent, stridingover to him.
"I--I--don't hit me!" whined Shafton.
"Hit you! I'm not going to hit you!" exclaimed Mr. Whitford, "butI'm going to search you, and then I'm going to wire for one of mymen to take you in custody."
"I--I didn't do anything!"
"You didn't; eh? Well, we'll see what the courts think of givingwrong information to Uncle Sam with the intent to aid criminals.Let's see what he's got in his pockets."
The spy did not have much, but at a sight of one piece of paper Mr.Whitford uttered a cry of surprise.
"Ha! This is worth something!" he exclaimed. "It may be stale news,and it may be something for the future, but it's worth trying. Iwonder I didn't think of that before."
"What is it?" asked Tom.
For answer the custom officer held out a scrap of paper on which waswritten one word.
ST. REGIS.
"What does it mean," asked Ned, who, with Mr. Damon, had entered themotor room, and stood curiously regarding the scene.
"Bless my napkin ring!" said the odd man. "That's the name of ahotel. Do you suppose the smugglers are stopping there?"
"Hardly," replied Mr. Whitford with a smile. "But St. Regis is thename of an Indian reservation in the upper part of New York state,right on the border, and in the corner where the St. Lawrence andthe imaginary dividing line between New York and Canada join. Ibegin to see things now. The smugglers have been flying over theIndian Reservation, and that's why they have escaped us so far. Wenever thought of that spot. Tom, I believe we're on the right trackat last! Shafton was probably given this to inform him where thenext trick would be turned, so he could get us as far away aspossible, or, maybe prevent us leaving at all."
An involuntary start on the part of the prisoner seemed to confirmthis, but he kept silent.
"Of course," went on Mr. Whitford, "they may have already flown overthe St. Regis reservation, and this may be an old tip, but it'sworth following up."
"Why don't you ask him?" Tom wanted to know, as he nodded towardShafton.
"He wouldn't tell the truth. I'll put him where he can't get away towarn his confederates, and then we'll go to the reservation. And tothink that my man trusted him!"
Mr. Whitford was soon in communication with his headquarters bymeans of the wireless apparatus on Tom's airship, and a little latertwo custom officers arrived, with an extra horse on which they wereto take their prisoner back.
"And now we'll try our luck once more," said Mr. Whitford as his menleft with Shafton securely bound. "Can you make the reservation ingood time, Tom? It's quite a distance," and he pointed it out on themap.
"Oh, I'll do it," promised the young inventor, as he sent hispowerful craft aloft in the darkness. Then, with her nose pointed inthe right direction, the Falcon beat her w
ay forward through thenight, flying silently, with the great searchlight ready for instantuse.
In comparatively short time, though it was rather late at night,they reached the St. Lawrence, and then it was an easy matter todrop down into the midst of the reservation grounds. Though theredmen, whom the state thus quartered by themselves, had allretired, they swarmed out of their cabins as the powerful lightflashed back and forth.
"We want to question some of the head men of the tribe," said Mr.Whitford. "I know some of them, for on several occasions I've had tocome here to look into rumors that tobacco and liquor and othercontraband goods dear to the Indian heart were smuggled into thereservation against the law. I never caught any of them at itthough."
With guttural exclamations, and many grunts of surprise, theredmen gathered around the big airship. It was too much even fortheir usual reserve, and they jabbered among themselves.
"How Big Foot!" greeted the custom officer, to one Indian who had anextremely large left foot. "How!"
"How!" responded the Indian, with a grunt.
"Plenty much fine air-bird; eh?" and the agent waved his hand towardthe Falcon.
"Yep. Plenty much big."
"Big Foot never see bird like this; eh?"
"Oh sure. Big Foot see before many times. Huh!"
"What! Has he seen this before?" asked Tom.
"No. Wait a minute," cautioned Mr. Whitford. "I'm on the track ofsomething. Big Foot see air-bird like this?" he questioned.
"Sure. Fly over Indians' land many times. Not same as him," and henodded toward Tom's ship, "but plenty much like. Make heap noise.Come down once--break wheel mebby. Indians help fix. Indians getfirewater. You got firewater in your air-bird?"
"No firewater, but maybe we've got some tobacco, if you tell us whatwe want to know, Big Foot. And so you've seen air-birds flyingaround here before?"
"Sure, Heap times. We all see," and he waved his hand to indicatethe redmen gathered around him.
There came grunts of confirmation.
"We're getting there!" exclaimed Mr. Whitford to Tom. "We're on theright track now. Which way air-birds come, Big Foot?"
"Over there," and he pointed toward Canada.
"Which way go?"
"Over there," and he pointed toward the east, in the direction ofShopton, as much as anywhere.
"That's what we want to know. Tom, we'll just hang around here for awhile, until one of the smugglers' airships pass over head. Ibelieve one is due to-night, and that's why Shafton had that paper.It was sent to him to tip him off. He was sneaking up, trying to putyour airship out of commission when Koku caught him. These Indianshave used their eyes to good advantage. I think we're on the trailat last."
"Baccy for Big Foot?" asked the redman.
"Yes, plenty of it. Tom, give them some of Koku's, will you? I'llsettle with you later," for the giant had formed a liking for theweed, and Tom did not have the heart to stop him smoking a pipe oncein a while. With his usual prodigality, the giant had brought alonga big supply, and some of this was soon distributed among theIndians, who grunted their thanks.