Tom Swift and His Air Glider Part 28

They were all busy, but the light of the two torches Tom had brought was not sufficient for good and efficient work, so after getting several thousand dollars worth of the precious metal, they decided to postpone operations until morning, and come with more lights.

They were at the work soon after breakfast, the night in the air glider having pa.s.sed without incident. The treasure of platinum proved even richer than the Russians had thought, and it was no wonder the Imperial government had tried so hard to locate it, or get on the trail of those who sought it.

"And it's all good stuff!" cried Tom eagerly. "Not like that low-grade gold of the underground city. I can make my own terms when I sell this."

For three days our friends dug and dug in that platinum mine, so many years lost to man, and when they got ready to leave they had indeed a king's ransom with them. But it was to be equally divided. Tom insisted on this, as his Russian friends had been instrumental in finding it.

Toward the end of the excavation large pieces were scarce, and it was evident that the mine was what is called a "lode."

"Well, shall we go back now?" asked Tom one day, after the finish of their mining operations. The work was comparatively simple, as the platinum lumps had merely to be dug out of the sides of the cave. But the loneliness and dreariness of the place was telling on them all.

"Can't we carry any more?" asked Ned.

"We could, but it might not be safe. I don't want to take on too much weight, as my glider isn't as stable as the airship. But we have plenty of the metal.

"Indeed we have," agreed Ivan Petrofsky. "Much of mine and my brother's will go toward helping relieve the sufferings of the Siberian exiles,"

he added.

"And mine, too," said Alexis Borious.

They started back early the next morning in a more terrific gale than in any the glider had yet flown. But she proved herself a stanch craft, and soon they were at the place where they had left the airship. It was undisturbed.

Four days were spent in taking apart the glider and packing it on board the Falcon. Then, with the platinum safely stored away Tom, with a last look at the desolate land that had been so kind to them, sent his craft on her homeward way.

It was when they were near the city of Pirtchina, on the Obi river, that what might have proved a disastrous accident occurred. They were flying along high, and at great speed, for Tom wanted to make all the distance he could, to get out of Siberia the more quickly. They had had a fair pa.s.sage so far, and were congratulating themselves that they would soon be in civilization again.

Suddenly, Mr. Damon, who had been on the after deck, taking observations through a telescope, came running forward, crying out:

"Tom! Tom! What is that water dripping from the back part of the airship?"

"Water?" exclaimed Tom. "No water is dripping from there."

"Come and look," advised Mr. Damon.

The young inventor raced back with him. He saw a thin, white stream trickling down from the lower part of the craft. Tom sniffed the air suspiciously.

"Gasolene! It's gasolene!" he cried. "We must have a leak in the supply tanks!"

He dashed toward the reserve storeroom, and at that moment, with a suddenness that was startling, the motor stopped and the Falcon lurched toward the earth.

CHAPTER XXV

HOMEWARD BOUND--CONCLUSION

"All right!" yelled Ned, as soon as he heard Tom's cry. "I've got her under control. We'll volplane down."

"Is it dangerous? Are we in danger?" asked Peter Petrofsky of his brother, in Russian.

"I guess there's no danger, where Tom Swift's concerned," was the answer. "I have not volplaned much, but it will be all right I think."

And it was, for with Ned Newton to guide the craft, while Tom did his best to stop the leak, the craft came gently to earth on the outskirts of a fairly large Siberian city. Almost instantly the Falcon was surrounded by a curious throng.

"You had better keep inside," said Ivan Petrofsky to his brother and Mr. Borious. "Descriptions of you are probably out broadcast by now, but I am still sufficiently disguised, I think."

"But what is to be done?" demanded the younger Russian brother. "If the gasolene is gone, how can we leave here?"

"Trust Tom Swift for that," was the reply. "Keep out of sight now, there is a large crowd outside."

Tom came from the tank room. There was a despondent look on his face.

"It's all gone--every drop," he said. "That's what made the motor stop."

"What's gone?" asked Mr. Damon.

"The gasolene. We sprung a leak in the main tank, somehow, and it all flowed out while we were flying along."

"Haven't you any more?"

"Not a bit. I was drawing on the reserve tank, hoping to get to civilization before I needed more. But its too late now. We will have to--"

"Bless my snow shoes!" cried Mr. Damon. "Don't say we'll have to stay here--in Siberia! Don't say that. My wife--"

"No, we won't have to stay here if we can get a supply of kerosene,"

interrupted Tom. "The motor will burn that. The only trouble is that we may be detained. The authorities probably know us by this time, and are on the watch."

"Then get it before they know we are here," advised Ned.

"I'll try," said Tom, and he at once conferred with the elder Petrofsky. The latter said he was sure kerosene could be had in town, and, rather than risk going in themselves, they hired a wagoner who agreed, for liberal pay, to go and return with a quant.i.ty. Until then there was nothing to do but wait.

Meanwhile the crowd of curiosity seekers grew. They thronged around the airship, some of them meddling with various devices, until Tom had to order them away with gestures.

One particularly inquisitive man insisted on pulling or twisting everything, until he happened to touch a couple of live wires, giving himself quite a shock, and then he ran away howling. But still the crowd increased, and at last Mr. Petrofsky said:

"I don't like this, Tom?"

"Why not?" They were all inside the craft, looking out and waiting for the return of the man with the kerosene. The leak in the tank had proved to be a small one, and had quickly been soldered. It had been open a long time, which accounted for the large amount of gasolene escaping. "What don't you like, Mr. Petrofsky?"

"So many men surrounding us. I believe some of them are officers dressed in civilians' clothes, and a Russian officer never does that unless he has some object."

"And you think the object is--?"

"To capture us."

"If it was that, wouldn't they have done it long ago--when we first came down?"