THE HAND OF THE CZAR
"Then you won't take a ride with me to-day?" asked the young inventor,
of the Russian, as he completed the repairs to the magneto. "I'd like
to have you meet my father, and a friend of his, Mr. Damon. Most likely
he'll go to Siberia with us, if his wife will let him. I'd like to talk
some plans over with you."
"I shall certainly call on you," answered Ivan Petrofsky, "but," he
added with a smile, "I think I should prefer to take my first ride in
your larger airship--the one that doesn't come down so often."
"Well, perhaps it is a little easier on an amateur," admitted Tom. "If
you'll come over to our house at any time I'll take you out in it, or
I'll call for you."
"I'll come over in a few days," answered the escaped exile. "Then I'll
tell you all I know of the locality where the platinum mine is located,
and we can make our plans. In the meanwhile don't say anything about
what I have told you."
"Why?" asked Ned quickly.
Mr. Petrofsky approached closer to the lads, and in a low voice said:
"I am not sure about it, but of late I think I have been shadowed. I
have seen strange men in the village near here and they have eyed me
rather suspiciously. Then, too, I have surprised several men around my
house. I live here all alone, you know, and do most of my own work, a
woman coming in occasionally to clean. But I don't like these
suspicious characters hanging about.
"Who do you think they are?" asked Tom.
"I'm almost afraid to think, but from my past experience I think--nay,
I fear--they may be spies, or agents of the Russian government."
"Spies!" cried Ned.
"Hush. Not so loud," cautioned Mr. Petrofsky. "They may even now be in
hiding, especially since your aeroplane landed so near my house. They
may see something suspicious even in that."
"But why should the Russian government set spies on you?" asked Tom in
a low voice.
"For two reasons. I am an escaped exile, and I am not a citizen of the
United States. Therefore I may be sent back to the sulphur mines. And
another reason is that they may think I know the secret of the platinum
treasure--the lost mine."
"Say this is getting interesting!" exclaimed Tom. "If we are going to
have a brush with some of the spies of the Russian government so much
the better. I'm ready for 'em!"
"So am I!" added Ned.
"You don't know them," said Mr. Petrofsky, and he could not repress a
shudder. "I hope they are not on my trail, but if they are--" he paused
a moment, straightened himself up, and looked like what he was, a
strong man--"if they are let them look out. I'd give my life to save my
brother from the awful, living death to which he is consigned!"
"And we're with you!" cried Tom, offering the Russian his hand. "We'll
turn the trick yet. Now don't forget to come and see us. Come along,
Ned. If I'm going to build an air glider I've got to get busy." And
waving farewells to their new friend, the lads took their places in the
aeroplane and were soon on their way to Shopton.
"Well, what do you think of it?" asked Ned of his chum, as they sped
along at a good elevation, the engine going at half speed to be less
noisy and make talking easier.
"Lots. I think we're in for a good time, an exciting one, anyhow, if
what he says is true. But what in the world is an air glider, Tom?"
"It's the last word in aeroplanes. You don't need a motor to make it
go."
"Don't need a motor?"
"No, the wind does it all. It's a sort of aeroplane, but the motion
comes from the wind, acting on different planes, and this is
accomplished by shifting weights. In it you can stand still in a fierce
gale, if you like."
"How, by tying her fast on the ground?"
"No, hovering in the air. It's all done by getting the proper balance.
The harder the wind blows the better the air glider works, and that's
why I think it will be just the thing for Siberia. I'm going to get
right at work on it, and you'll help me; won't you?"
"I sure will. Say, is platinum worth much?"
"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 scrap 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!"