THE RESCUE
"Have we--have we time to get a drink?" gasped Ned, when the aeroplane,
now on a level keel, had been shooting forward about three minutes.
Already it was beyond the reach of the rifles.
"Yes, but take only a little," cautioned Tom. "Oh! it doesn't seem
possible that we are free!"
He switched on a few interior lights, and by their glow the faint and
starving platinum-seekers found water and food. Their craft had,
apparently, not been touched in their absence, and the machinery ran
well.
Cautiously they ate and drank, feeling their strength come back to
them, and then they removed the traces of their terrible imprisonment,
and set about in ease and comfort, talking of what they had suffered.
Onward sped the aeroplane, onward through the night, and then Tom,
having set the automatic steering gear, all fell into heavy slumbers
that lasted until far into the next day.
When the young inventor awoke he looked below and could see
nothing--nothing but a sea of mist.
"What's this?" he cried. "Are we above the clouds, or in a fog over
some inland sea?"
He was quite worried, until Ivan Petrofsky informed him that they were
in the midst of a dense fog, which was common over that part of Siberia.
"But where are we?" asked Ned.
"About over the province of Irtutsk," was the answer. "We are heading
north," he went on, as he looked at the compass, "and I think about
right to land somewhere near where my brother is confined in the
sulphur mine."
"That's so; we've got to drop," said Tom. "I must get the gas pipe
repaired. I wish we could see over what soft of a place we were so as
to know whether it would be safe to land. I wish the mist would clear
away."
It did, about noon, and they noted that they were over a desolate
stretch of country, in which it would be safe to make a landing.
Bringing the aeroplane down on as smooth a spot as he could pick out,
Tom and Ned were soon at work clearing out the clogged pipe of the gas
generator. They had to take it out in the open air, as the fumes were
unpleasant, and it was while working over it that they saw a shadow
thrown on the ground in front of them. Startled they looked up, to see
a burly Russian staring at them.
The sudden appearance of a man in that lonely spot, his calm regard of
the lads, his stealthy approach, which had made it possible for him to
be almost upon them before they were aware of his presence, all this
made them suspicious of danger. Tom gave a quick glance about, however,
and saw no others--no Cossack soldiers, and as he looked a second time
at the man he noted that he was poorly dressed, that his shoes were
ragged, his whole appearance denoting that he had traveled far, and was
weary and ill.
"What do you make of this, Ned?" asked Tom, in a low voice.
"I don't know what to make of it. He can't be an officer, in that rig,
and he has no one with him. I guess we haven't anything to be afraid
of. I'm going to ask him what he wants."
Which Tom did in his plainest English. At once the man broke into a
stream of confused Russian, and he kept it up until Tom held up his
hand for silence.
"I'm sorry, but I can't understand you," said the young inventor. "I'll
call some one who can, though," and, raising his voice, he summoned
Ivan Petrofsky who, with Mr. Damon, was inside the airship doing some
small repairs.
"There's a Russian out here, Mr. Petrofsky," said Tom, "and what he
wants I can't make out."
The exile was quickly on the scene and, after a first glance at the
man, hurried up to him, grasped him by the hand and at once the two
were talking such a torrent of hard-sounding words that Tom and Ned
looked at each other helplessly, while Mr. Damon, who had come out,
exclaimed:
"Bless my dictionary! they must know each other."
For several minutes the two Russians kept up their rapid-fire talk and
then Mr. Petrofsky, evidently realizing that his friends must wonder at
it, turned to them and said:
"This is a very strange thing. This man is an escaped convict, as I
once was. I recognized him by certain signs as soon as I saw him,
though I had never met him before. There are certain marks by which a
Siberian exile can never be forgotten," he added significantly. "He
made his escape from the mines some time ago, and has suffered great
hardships since. The revolutionists help him when they can, but he has
to keep in concealment and travels from town to town as best he may. He
has heard of our airship, I suppose from inquiries the revolutionists
have been making in our behalf, and when he unexpectedly came upon us
just now he was not frightened, as an ordinary peasant would have been.
But he did not know I was aboard."
"And does he know you?" asked Tom. "Does he know you are trying to
rescue your brother?"
"No, but I will tell him."
There was another exchange of the Russian language, and it seemed to
have a surprising result. For, no sooner had Ivan Petrofsky mentioned
his brother, than the other, whose name was Alexis Borious seemed
greatly excited. Mr. Petrofsky was equally so at the reply his new
acquaintance made, and fairly shouted to Tom, Ned and Mr. Damon.
"Friends, I have unexpected good news! It is well that we met this man
or we would have gone many miles out of our way. My brother has been
moved to another mine since the revolutionists located him for me. He
is in a lonely district many miles from here. This man was in the same
mine with him, until my brother was transferred, and then Mr. Borious
escaped. We will have to change our plans."
"And where are we to head for now?" asked Tom.
"Near to the town of Haskaski, where my poor brother is working in a
sulphur mine!"
"Then let's get a move on!" cried Tom with enthusiasm. "Do you think
this man will come with us, Mr. Petrofsky, to help in the rescue, and
show us the place?"
"He says he will," translated the exile, "though he is much afraid of
our strange craft. Still he knows that to trust himself to it is better
than being captured, and sent back to the mines to starve to death!"
"Good!" cried Tom. "And if he wants to, and all goes well, we'll take
him out of Russia with us. Now get busy, Ned, and we'll have this
machine in shape again soon."
While Ivan Petrofsky took his new friend inside, and explained to him
about the workings of the Falcon, Tom and Ned labored over the gas
machine with such good effect that by night it was capable of being
used. Then they went aloft, and making a change in their route, as
suggested by Mr. Borious, they headed for the desolate sulphur region.
For several days they sailed on, and gradually a plan of rescue was
worked out. According to the information of the newcomer, the best way
to save Mr. Petrofsky's brother was to make the attempt when the
prisoners were marched back from the mines to the barracks where they
were confined.
"It will be dark then," said Mr. Borious, "and if you can hover in your
airship near at hand, and if Mr. Petrofsky can call out to his brother
to run to him, we can take him up with us and get away before the
guards know what we are doing."
"But aren't the prisoners chained?" asked Tom.
"No, they depend on guards to prevent escapes."
"Then we'll try that way," decided the young inventor.
On and on they sailed, the Falcon working admirably. Verst after verst
was covered, and finally, one morning, Mr. Borious, who knew the
country well, from having once been a prisoner there, said:
"We are now near the place. If we go any closer we may be observed. We
had better remain hidden in some grove of trees so that at nightfall we
can go forth to the rescue."
"But how can we find it after dark?" asked Ned.
"You can easily tell by the lights in the barracks," was the answer. "I
can stand in the pilot house to direct you, for nearly all these exile
prisons are alike. The prisoners will march in a long line from the
mine. Then for the rescue."
It was tedious waiting that day, but it had to be done, and to Tom, who
was anxious to effect the rescue, and proceed to the place of the winds
to try his air glider, it seemed as if dusk would never come as they
remained in concealment.
But night finally approached and then the great airship went silently
aloft, ready to hover over the prison ground. Fortunately there was
little wind; and she could be used as a balloon, thus avoiding the
noise of the motor.
"The next thing I do, when I get home," remarked Tom, as they drifted
along. "Will be to make a silent airship. I think they would be very
useful."
With Mr. Borious in the pilot house, to point out the way, Tom steered
through the fast-gathering darkness. The Russian had soon become used
to the airship, and was not at all afraid.
"Can you go just where you want to, as a balloon?" asked the new guide.
"No, but almost," replied Tom. "At the last moment I've got to take a
chance and start the motor to send us just where we want to go. That's
why I think a silent airship would be a great thing. You could get up
on the enemy before he knew it."
"There are the prison barracks," said the guide a little later, his
talk being translated by Mr. Petrofsky. Below and a little ahead of
them could been seen a cluster of lights.
"Yes, that looks like a line of prisoners," remarked Ned, who was
peering through a pair of night glasses.
"Where?" asked Tom eagerly, and they were pointed out to him. He took
an observation, and exclaimed:
"There they are, sure enough. Now if your brother is only among them,
Mr. Petrofsky, we'll soon have him on board."
"Heaven grant that he may be there!" said the exile in a low voice.
A moment later, the Falcon, meanwhile having been allowed to drift as
close as possible to the dimly-seen line of prisoners, Tom set in
motion the great motor, the propeller blades heating the air fiercely.
At the sound there was a shout on the ground below, but before the
excitement had time to spread, or before any of the guards could form a
notion of what was about to take place, Tom had sent his craft to earth
on a sharp slant, closer to the line of prisoners than he had dared to
hope.
Mr. Petrofsky sprang out on deck, and in a loud voice called in Russian:
"Peter! Peter! If you are there, come here! Come quickly! It is I, your
brother Ivan who speaks. I have come to save you--save you in the
wonderful airship of Tom Swift! Come quickly and we will take you away!
Peter Petrofsky!"
For a moment there was silence, and then the sound of some one running
rapidly was borne to the ears of the waiting ones. It was followed, a
moment later, by angry shouts from the guards.
"Quick! Quick, Peter!" cried the brother, "over this way!"
For an instant only the exile showed a single electric flash light,
that his brother might see in which direction to run. The echo of the
approaching footsteps came nearer, the shouts of the guards redoubled,
and then came the sound of many men running in pursuit.
"Hurry, Peter, hurry!" cried Mr. Petrofsky, and, as he spoke in Russian
the guards, of course, understood.
Suddenly a rifle shot rang out, but the weapon seemed to have been
fired in the air. A moment later a dark figure clambered aboard the
airship.
"Peter, is it you?" cried Ivan Petrofsky, hoarsely.
"Yes, brother! But get away quickly or the whole guard will be swarming
about here!"
"Praise the dear Lord you are saved!"
"Is it all right?" cried Tom, who wanted to make sure they were saving
the right man.
"Yes! Yes, Tom! Go quickly!" called Ivan Petrofsky, as he folded his
brother in his arms. A moment later, with a roar, the Falcon shot away
from the earth, while below sounded angry cries, confused shouts and
many orders, for the guards and their officers had never known of such
a daring rescue as this.