CHAPTER XVIII
IN A RUSSIAN PRISON
The news they had waited for had come at last. It might be a falseclew, but it was something to work on, and Tom was tired of inaction.Then, too, even after they had started, the prisoner might be moved andthey would have to trace him again.
"But that is the latest information we could get," said Mr. Androwsky."It came through some of our Anarchist friends, and I believe isreliable. Can you soon make a thousand miles in your airship?"
"Yes," answered Tom, "if I push her to the limit."
"Then do so," advised the Nihilist, "for there is need of haste. Inmaking inquiries our friends might incur suspicions and Peter Petrofskymay be exiled to some other place."
"Oh, we'll get there," cried Tom. "Ned, see to the gas machine. Mr.Damon, you can help me in the pilot house."
"Here is a map of the best route," said the Nihilist, as he handed oneto Mr. Petrofsky. "It will take you there the shortest way. But how canyou steer when high in the air?"
"By compass," explained Tom. "We'll get there, never fear, and we'regrateful for your clew."
"I never can thank you enough!" exclaimed the exile, as he shook handswith Mr. Androwsky.
The Nihilist left, after announcing that, in the event of the successof Tom and his friends, and the rescue of the exile from the sulphurmine, it would probably become known to them, as such news came throughthe Revolutionary channels, slowly but surely.
"Here we go!" cried the young inventor gaily, as he turned the startinglever in the pilot house, and silently, in the darkness of the night,the Falcon shot upward. There was not a light on board, for, thoughsmall signal lamps had been kept burning when the craft was in theforest, to guide the Nihilists to her, now that she was up in the air,and in motion, it was feared that her presence would become known tothe authorities of the town, so even these had been extinguished.
"After we get well away we can turn on the electrics," remarked Tom,"and if they see us at a distance they may take us for a meteor. But,so close as this, they'd get wise in a minute."
Mr. Damon, who had done all that Tom needed in the starting of thecraft, went to the forward port rail, and idly looked down on the blackforest they were leaving. He could just make out the clearing wherethey had rested for over a week, and he was startled to see lightsbobbing in it.
"I say, Mr. Petrofsky!" he called. "Did we leave any of our lanternsbehind us?"
"I don't believe so," answered the exile. "I'll ask Tom."
"Lanterns? No," answered the young inventor. "Before we started I tookdown the only one we had out. I'll take a look."
Setting the automatic steering apparatus, he joined Mr. Damon and theRussian. The lights were now dimly visible, moving about in the forestclearing.
"It's just as if they were looking for something," said Tom. "Can it bethat any of your Nihilist friends, Mr. Petrofsky are--"
"Friends--no friends--enemies!" cried the Russian. "I understand now!We got away just in time. Those are police agents who are looking forus! They must have received word about our being there. Androwsky andthe others never carry lights when they go about. They know the countrytoo well, and then, too, it leads to detection. No, those are policespies. A few minutes later, and we would have been discovered."
"As it is we're right over their heads, and they don't know it,"chuckled Tom. The airship was moving silently along before a goodbreeze, the propellers not having been started, and Tom let her driftfor several miles, as he did not want to give the police spies a clewby the noise of the motor.
The twinkling lights in the forest clearing disappeared from sight, andthe seekers went on in the darkness.
"Well, we've got the hardest part of our work yet ahead of us,"remarked Tom several hours later when, the lights having been setaglow, they were gathered in the main cabin. There was no danger ofbeing seen now, for they were quite high.
"We've done pretty well, so far," commented Ned. "I think we will haveeasier work rescuing Mr. Petrofsky's brother than in locating the mine.
"I don't know about that," answered the Russian. "It is almostimpossible to rescue a person from Siberia. Of course it is not goingto be easy to locate the lost mine, but as for that we can keep onsearching, that is if the air glider works, but there are so manyforces to fight against in rescuing a prisoner."
They had a long journey ahead of them, and not an easy route to follow,but as the days passed, and they came nearer and nearer to their goal,they became more and more eager.
They were passing over a desolate country, for they avoided thevicinity of large towns and cities.
"I wonder when we'll strike Siberia?" mused Tom one afternoon, as theysat on the outer deck, enjoying the air.
"At this rate of progress, very soon," answered the exile, afterglancing at the map. "We should be at the foot of the Ural mountains ina few hours, and across them in the night. Then we will be in Siberia."
And he was right, for just as supper was being served, Ned, who hadbeen making observations with a telescope, exclaimed:
"These must be the Urals!"
Mr. Petrofsky seized the glass.
"They are," he announced. "We will cross between Orsk and Iroitsk. Asafe place. In the morning we will be in Siberia--the land of theexiles."
And they were, morning seeing them flying over a most desolate stretchof landscape. Onward they flew, covering verst after verst ofloneliness.
"I'm going to put on a little more speed," announced Tom, after a visitto the storeroom, where were kept the reserve tanks of gasolene. "I'vegot more fluid than I thought I had, and as we're on the ground now Iwant to hurry things. I'm going to make better time," and he yankedover the lever of the accelerator, sending the Falcon ahead at a rapidrate.
All day this was kept up, and they were just making an observation todetermine their position, along toward supper time, when there came thesound of another explosion from the motor room.
"Bless my safety valve!" cried Mr. Damon. "Something has gone wrongagain."
Tom ran to the motor, and, at the same time the Falcon which was beingused as an aeroplane and not as a dirigible, began to sink.
"We're going down!" cried Ned.
"Well, you know what to do!" shouted his chum. "The gas bag! Turn onthe generator!"
Ned ran to it, but, in spite of his quick action, the craft continuedto slide downward.
"She won't work!" he cried.
"Then the intake pipe must be stopped!" answered the young inventor."Never mind, I'll volplane to earth and we can make repairs. Thatmagneto has gone out of business again."
"Don't land here!" cried Ivan Petrofsky.
"Why not?"
"Because we are approaching a large town--Owbinsk I think it is--thepolice there will be there to get us. Keep on to the forest again!"
"I can't!" cried Tom. "We've got to go down, police or no police."
Running to the pilot house, he guided the craft so that it would safelyvolplane to earth. They could all see that now they were approaching afairly large town, and would probably land on its outskirts. Throughthe glass Ned could make out people staring up at the strange sight.
"They'll be ready to receive us," he announced grimly.
"I hope they have no dynamite bombs for us," murmured Mr. Damon. "Blessmy watch chain! I must get rid of that Nihilist literature I have aboutme, or they'll take me for one," and he tore up the tracts, andscattered them in the air.
Meanwhile the Falcon continued to descend.
"Maybe I can make quick repairs, and get away before they realize whowe are," said Tom, as he got ready for the landing.
They came down in a big field, and, almost before the bicycle wheelshad ceased revolving, under the application of the brakes, several mencame running toward them.
"Here they come!" cried Mr. Damon.
"They are only farmers," said the exile. He had donned his dark glassesagain, and looked like anything but a Russian.
"Lively, Ned!" cried T
om. "Let's see if we can't make repairs and getoff again."
The two lads frantically began work, and they soon had the magneto inrunning order. They could have gone up as an aeroplane, leaving therepairs to the gas bag to be made later but, just as they were ready tostart, there came galloping out a troop of Cossack soldiers. Theircommander called something to them.
"What is he saying?" cried Tom to Mr. Petrofsky.
"He is telling them to surround us so that we can not get a runningstart, such as we need to go up. Evidently he understands aeroplanes."
"Well, I'm going to have a try," declared the young inventor.
He jumped to the pilot house, yelling to Ned to start the motor, but itwas too late. They were hemmed in by a cordon of cavalry, and it wouldhave been madness to have rushed the Falcon into them, for she wouldhave been wrecked, even if Tom could have succeeded in sending herthrough the lines.
"I guess it's all up with us," groaned Ned.
And it seemed to; for, a moment later, an officer and several aidesgalloped forward, calling out something in Russian.
"What is it?" asked Tom.
"He says we are under arrest," translated the exile.
"What for?" demanded the young inventor.
Ivan Petrofsky shrugged his shoulders.
"It is of little use to ask--now," he answered. "It may be we haveviolated some local law, and can pay a fine and go, or we may be takenfor just what we are, or foreign spies, which we are not. It is best tokeep quiet, and go with them."
"Go where?" cried Tom.
"To prison, I suppose," answered the exile. "Keep quiet, and leave itto me. I will do all I can. I don't believe they will recognize me.
"Bless my search warrant!" cried Mr. Damon. "In a Russian prison! Thatis terrible!"
A few minutes later, expostulations having been useless, our friendswere led away between guards who carried ugly looking rifles, and wholooked more ugly and menacing themselves. Then the doors of the Russianprison of Owbinsk closed on Tom and his friends, while their airshipwas left at the mercy of their enemies.