Tom Swift and His Air Glider Part 4

"Worth much? I should say it was! It's got gold beat now, and the available supply is very small, and it's getting more scarce. Russia has several mines, and the metal is of good quality. I've used some Russian platinum, but the kind Mr. Petrofsky gave me to-day was better than the best I ever had. If we can only find that lost mine we'll be millionaires all right."

"That's what we thought when we found the city of gold, but the gold wasn't of as fine a grade as we hoped."

"Well, nothing like that can happen in this platinum deal. It sure is rich ore that Mr. Petrofsky and his brother found. Poor fellow! To think of being an exile in that awful country, not knowing where you may be sent next. No wonder Mr. Petrofsky wants to rescue him."

"That's right. Well, here we are. I wonder what your father will say when he hears you're thinking of another expedition, Tom?"

"Oh, he'll want me to go when he hears about the exile."

"And I'm sure my folks will let me go. How about Mr. Damon?"

"I don't believe we can hold him back. It will make a nice party, just you and I, and Mr. Damon and Mr. Petrofsky. That will leave room for the other Russian--if we can rescue him," and with that Tom shut off the engine and glided to earth.

It may well be imagined that Mr. Swift was surprised when his son told him the latest news, but he did not offer any serious objection to the young inventor going to Siberia.

"Only you must be careful," he said. "Those Russian officers are ugly when it comes to trying to take away any of their prisoners. And this air glider--I don't exactly know about that. It's a new machine, and you want to be sure it works before you trust yourself to it."

"I will," promised Tom. "Say, I've got plenty of work ahead of me,--to get my big airship in shape, and build the glider. You'll have to help me, dad."

"I will, son. Now tell me more about this Mr. Petrofsky." Which Tom did.

The days that followed were indeed busy ones for Tom. The young inventor made a model air glider that sailed fairly well, but he knew it would have to work better to be successful, and he bent all his energies in that direction. Meanwhile Mr. Damon had been told of the prospective trip.

"Bless my bank book! Of course I'll go," he said. "But don't say anything about it to my wife--that is, just yet. I'll bring her around to it gradually. She has always wanted a diamond ring set in platinum, and now I can get it for her. I know she'll let me go if I break it to her gently."

It may be mentioned here that many valuable diamonds are now set in platinum instead of gold.

"I want to keep busy," said Mr. Damon, so Tom set him, Ned and Eradicate at the task of getting the big airship in shape for the trip.

This air craft has not figured in any of my previous stories, but as it is so nearly like the one that was crushed in the caves of ice, I will not give a description of it here. Those who care to may refer to the book telling of Tom's trip to the caves of ice for a detailed account of the craft.

Sufficient to say that this latest airship, named the Falcon, was the largest Tom had ever built. It contained much room, many comforts, and could sail for several thousand miles without descending, except in case of accident. It was a combined dirigible balloon and aeroplane, and could be used as either, the necessary gas being made on board. It was large enough to enable the air glider to be taken on it in sections.

It was about a week after their first meeting with him, that Ivan Petrofsky paid a visit to the Swift home. He was warmly welcomed by the aged inventor and Mr. Damon, and, closeted in the library of the house, he proceeded to go more into details of his own and his brother's exile to Siberia, and to tell about the supposed location of the lost platinum mine.

"I don't believe we can start for several weeks yet," said Tom, after some discussion. "It will take me that long to make the glider."

"And I, too, need a little time," said the Russian. "I will write to some friends in St. Petersburg and perhaps they can get some information for us, as to where my brother is.

"That will be good," declared Mr. Damon. "Bless my icicle! But the more I think of this trip the better I like it!"

It was arranged that the Russian should call again soon, when the plans would be nearer in shape, and in the meanwhile he must learn all he could from revolutionary friends in Siberia.

It was a week after this, during which Tom, Ned and the others had been very busy, that Tom decided to take a trip to see their Russian friend.

They had not heard from him since his visit, and Tom wanted to learn something about the strength of the Siberian winds.

He and Ned went in one of the small airships and soon they were hovering over the grounds surrounding the lonely house where Ivan Petrofsky lived.

"He doesn't seem to be at home," remarked Ned, as they descended and approached the dwelling.

"No, and it looks quite deserted," agreed the young inventor. "Say, all the doors are open, too! He shouldn't go away and leave his house open like that--with the valuable platinum there."

"Maybe he's asleep," suggested Ned.

They knocked on the opened door, but there was no answer. Then they went inside. To their surprise the house was in confusion. Furniture was overturned, tables and chairs were broken, and papers were scattered about the room.

"There's been a fight here!" cried Tom.

"That's right," agreed Ned. "Maybe he's been hurt--maybe burglars came for the platinum!"

"Come on!" cried Tom, making a dash for the stairs. "We'll see if he's here."

The house was small, and it took but a moment to show that Mr.

Petrofsky was not there. Upstairs, as below, was the same confusion--the overturned furniture and the papers scattered about.

Tom stooped and picked up a sc.r.a.p that looked like a piece torn from a letter. On top was a seal--the black seal of Russia--the imperial arms of the Czar!

"Look!" cried Tom, holding out the paper.

"What is it?" asked Ned.

"The hand of the Czar!" answered his chum. "It has reached out from Russia, and taken Mr. Petrofsky away!"

CHAPTER IV

THE SEARCH

For a moment Ned could scarcely understand what Tom meant. It scarcely seemed possible that such a thing could happen. That some one in far-off Russia--be it the Czar or one of the secret police--could operate from such a distance, seeking out a man in an obscure house in a little American village, and s.n.a.t.c.hing him away.

"It isn't possible!" declared Ned breathlessly.

"What difference does that make?" asked Tom. "The thing has happened, and you can't get out of it. Look at all the evidence--there's been a fight, that's sure, and Mr. Petrofsky is gone."

"But maybe he went away of his own accord," insisted Ned, who was sometimes hard to convince.

"Nonsense! If a man went away of his own accord would he smash up his furniture, leave his papers scattered all about and go off leaving the doors and windows open for any one to walk in? I guess not."

"Well, maybe you're right. But think of it! This isn't Russia!"

"No, but he's a Russian subject, and, by his own confession an escaped exile. If he was arrested in the usual way he could be taken back, and our government couldn't interfere. He's been taken back all right. Poor man! Think of being doomed to those sulphur mines again, and as he escaped they'll probably make it all the harder for him!"

"But I thought our government wouldn't help other nations to get back prisoners convicted of political crimes," suggested Ned. "That's all Mr. Petrofsky was guilty of--politics, trying to help the poor in his own country. It's a shame if our government stands for anything like that!"

"That's just the point!" exclaimed Tom. "Probably the spies, secret police, or whoever the Russian agents were, didn't ask any help from our government. If they did there might be a chance for him. But likely they worked in secret. They came here, sneaked in on him, and took him away before he could get help. Jove! If he could only have gotten word to me I'd have come in the airship, and then there'd be a different ending to this."