As we hinted in an editorial last year, federal raids on antiquity thieves and their customers, private and institutional, were only the beginning of a new round: The fight to preserve the artifacts of ancient America was about to begin in earnest.

Little did we know what an understatement that would be. This year, the feds landed like big birds on pot hunters, grave robbers and others around the Four Corners who for decades have been digging illicitly for fun and profit. Whole convoys of cops swooped in on looter hotbeds like Blanding, Utah, arresting suspects and spouses suspected of being suspects.

More than two dozen people were rounded up by SWAT teams. Two of those charged committed suicide. One was the only doctor in isolated Blanding. The other was a salesman from New Mexico.

From pots and potsherds to ancient weavings, from long-ago eagle feathers to mummified remains, much of the merchandise is of questionable provenance; proof is hard to come by — and the federal attitude, at this stage of the proceedings, anyway, is that whoever they catch with the stuff must make the case for its legitimacy.

The crackdown also included the homes of four business people. In its wake, dealers and collectors as well are scratching their heads and looking over their shoulders: What can and can't we buy, own or sell?

Depends on where the stuff came from, in many cases. From private land, nearly anything goes. But most of the Four Corners is federal land, and what's taken from there might likely be in violation of the Antiquities Act, the Archaeological Resource Protection Act or the National American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act. The antiquities statute has been on the books since 1906 — so folks have long been on notice that they should be careful what they tote home from a walk in the badlands.

But what if you're only a merchant in ancient objects? What if your supplier swears on a stack of Bibles that the material either complies with law, or went on the market before this law or that took effect?

Documentation can help: Certificates of origin can be evidence of a bone flute's bona fides.

Museum professionals have, in recent years, been highly cooperative with recovery efforts. New York's Metropolitan Museum and several other institutions have online connections for verification. The network should spread nationwide.

In defense of private acquisition — and of the invaluable education offered by galleries as well as museums — it often has been a matter of dealing in good faith with sellers and donors who might not have known how the artifacts reached the previous owner.

But when, according to some of the latest federal evidence, tomb raiders go out at night, or in camouflage, to pillage public land, that's inexcusable. Archaeological thievery, moviedom's Indiana Jones and Laura Croft to the contrary, is thievery nonetheless. Laws codifying the criminality have been — and still might be — hard to enforce.

However, dealers and collectors, both canny and honest, must learn those laws — and obey them. To do otherwise would be asking for more of the commando raids that have antiquities professionals on tenterhooks.