CHAPTER XVII
ON TO SIBERIA
"Has anything happened?" asked Tom. "Are we suspected? Have they cometo warn us?"
"No, everything is all right, so far," answered Ivan Petrofsky. "Ididn't have the success I hoped for, and we may have to wait here for afew days to get news of my brother. But these men have been very kindto me," he went on, "and they have ways of getting information that Ihave not. So they are going to aid me."
"That's right!" exclaimed the one who had first spoken. "We will yetwin you to our cause, Brother Petrofsky. Death to the Czar and theGrand Dukes!"
"Never!" exclaimed the exile firmly. "Peaceful measures will succeed.But I am grateful for what you can do for me. They heard me describeyour wonderful airship," he explained to Tom, "and wanted to see forthemselves."
The Nihilists were made welcome after Mr. Petrofsky had introducedthem. They had strange and almost unpronounceable names for the earsof our friends, and I will not trouble you with them, save to say thatthe one who spoke English fairly well, and who was the leader, wascalled Nicolas Androwsky. There was much jabbering in the Russiantongue, when Mr. Petrofsky and Mr. Androwsky took the others about thecraft, explaining how it worked.
"I can't show you the air glider," said Tom, who naturally acted asguide, "as it would take too long to put together, and besides there isnot enough wind here to make it operate."
"Then you need much wind?" asked Nicolas Androwsky.
"The harder the gale the better she flies," answered Tom proudly.
"Bless my sand bag, but that's right!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, who, up tonow had not taken much part in the conversation. He followed the partyabout the airship, keeping in the rear, and he eyed the Nihilists as ifhe thought that each one had one or more dynamite bombs concealed onhis person.
"Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Androwsky, turning suddenly to the odd man. "Areyou not one of us? Do you not believe that this terrible kingdom shouldbe destroyed--made as nothing, and a new one built from its ashes? Areyou not one of us?" and with a quick gesture he reached into his pocket.
"No! No!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, starting back. "Bless my electionticket! No! Never could I throw a bomb. Please don't give me one." Mr.Damon started to run away.
"A bomb!" exclaimed the Nihilist, and then he drew from his pocket somepamphlets printed in Russian. "I have no bombs. Here are some of thetracts we distribute to convert unbelievers to our cause," he went on."Read them and you will understand what we are striving for. They willconvert you, I am sure."
He went on, following the rest of the party, while Mr. Damon droppedback with Ned.
"Bless my gas meter!" gasped the odd man, as he stared at thequeerly-printed documents in his hand. "I thought he was going to giveme a bomb to throw!"
"I don't blame you," said Ned in a low voice. "They look like desperatemen, but probably they have suffered many hardships, and they thinktheir way of righting a wrong is the only way. I suppose you'll readthose tracts," he added with a smile.
"Hum! I'm afraid not," answered Mr. Damon. "I might just as well try totranslate a Chinese laundry check. But I'll save 'em for souvenirs,"and he carefully put them in his pocket, as if he feared they mightunexpectedly turn into a bomb and blow up the airship.
The tour of the craft was completed and the Nihilists returned to thecomfortable cabin where, much to their surprise, they were served witha little lunch, Mr. Damon bustling proudly about from the table to thegalley, and serving tea as nearly like the Russians drink it aspossible.
"Well, you certainly have a wonderful craft here--wonderful," spoke Mr.Androwsky. "If we had some of these in our group now, we could startfrom here, hover over the palace of the Czar, or one of the GrandDukes, drop a bomb, utterly destroy it, and come back before any of thehated police would be any the wiser."
"I'm afraid I can't lend it to you," said Tom, and he could scarcelyrepress a shudder at the terrible ideas of the Nihilists.
"It would never do," agreed Ivan Petrofsky. "The campaign of educationis the only way."
There were gutteral objections on the part of the other Russians, andthey turned to more cheerful subjects of talk.
"What are your plans?" asked Tom of the exile. "You say you can get notrace here of your brother?"
"No, he seems to have totally disappeared from sight. Usually weenemies of the government can get some news of a prisoner, but poorPeter is either dead, or in some obscure mine, which is hidden away inthe forests or mountains."
"Maybe he is in the lost platinum mine," suggested Ned.
"No, that has not been discovered," declared the exile, "or my friendshere would have heard of it. That is still to be found."
"And we'll do it, in the air glider," declared Tom. "By the way, Mr.Petrofsky, would it not be a good plan to ask your friends the locationof the place where the winds constantly blow with such force. It occursto me that in some such way we might locate the mine."
"It would be of use if there was only one place of the gales," repliedthe exile. "But Siberia has many such spots in the mountainfastnesses--places which, by the peculiar formation of the land, haveconstant eddys of air over them. No, the only way is for us to go asnearly as possible to the place where my brother and I were imprisoned,and search there."
"But what is that you said about us having to stay here, to get somenews of your brother?" asked Tom.
"I had hoped to get some information here," resumed Mr. Petrofsky, "butmy friends here are without news. However, they are going to makeinquiries, and we will have to stay here until they have an answer. Itwill be safe, they think, as there are not many police in town, and thelocal authorities are not very efficient. So the airship will remainhere, and, from time to time I will go to the village, disguised, andsee if any word has come."
"And we will bring you news as soon as we get it," promised Mr.Androwsky. "You are not exactly one of us, but you are against thegovernment, and, therefor, a brother. But you will be one of us intime."
"Never," replied the exile with a smile. "My only hope now is to get mybrother safely away, and then we will go and live in free America. But,Tom, I hope I won't put you out by delaying here."
"Not a bit of it. More than half the object of our trip is to rescueyour brother. We must do that first. Now as to details," and they fellto discussing plans. It was late that night when the Nihilists left theairship, first having made a careful inspection to see that they werenot spied upon. They promised at once to set to work their secretmethods of getting information.
For several days the airship remained in the vicinity of the Russiantown. Our friends were undisturbed by visitors, as they were in aforest where the villagers seldom came and the nearest wood-road wasnearly half a mile off.
Every day either Mr. Petrofsky went in to town to see the Nihilists orsome of them came out to the Falcon, usually at night.
"Well, have you any word yet?" asked Tom, after about a week had passed.
"Nothing yet," answered the exile, and his tone was a bit hopeless."But we have not given up. All the most likely places have been tried,but he is not there. We have had traces of him, but they are not freshones. He seems to have been moved from one mine to another. Probablythey feared I would make an attempt to rescue him. But I have not givenup. He is somewhere in Siberia."
"And we'll find him!" cried Tom with enthusiasm.
For three days more they lingered, and then, one night, when they werejust getting ready to retire, there was a knock on the cabin door. Mr.Petrofsky had been to the village that day, and had received no news.He had only returned about an hour before.
"Some one's knocking," announced Ned, as if there could be any doubt ofit.
"Bless my burglar alarm!" gasped Mr. Damon.
"I'll see who it is," volunteered Mr. Petrofsky, and Tom looked towardthe rack of loaded rifles, for that day a man, seemingly a wood cutterhad passed close to the airship, and had hurried off as if he had seena ghost.
The knock was repeated. It might be their frien
ds, and it might be--
But Mr. Petrofsky solved the riddle by throwing back the portal, andthere stood the Nihilist, Nicolas Androwsky.
"Is there anything the matter?" asked the exile quickly.
"We have news," was the cautious answer, as the Nihilist slipped in,and closed the door behind him.
"News of my brother?"
"Of your brother! He is in a sulphur mine in the Altai Mountains, nearthe city of Abakansk."
"Where's that?" asked Tom for he had forgotten most of his Russiangeography.
"The Altai Mountains are a range about the middle of Siberia,"explained Mr. Petrofsky. "They begin at the Kirghiz Steppes, and runwest. It is a wild and desolate place. I hope we can find poor Peteralive."
"And this city of Abakansk?" went on the young inventor.
"It is many miles from here, but I can give you a good map," said theNihilist. "Some of our friends are there," he added with a half-growl."I wish we could rescue all of them."
"We'd like to," spoke Tom. "But I fear it is impossible. But now thatwe have a clew, come on! Let's start at once! It may be dangerous tostay here. On to Siberia!"
Tom Swift and His Air Glider; Or, Seeking the Platinum Treasure Page 17