Chapter XVII. On to Siberia

"Has anything happened?" asked Tom. "Are we suspected? Have they come to warn us?"

"No, everything is all right, so far," answered Ivan Petrofsky. "I didn't have the success I hoped for, and we may have to wait here for a few days to get news of my brother. But these men have been very kind to me," he went on, "and they have ways of getting information that I have not. So they are going to aid me."

"That's right!" exclaimed the one who had first spoken. "We will yet win you to our cause, Brother Petrofsky. Death to the Czar and the Grand Dukes!"

"Never!" exclaimed the exile firmly. "Peaceful measures will succeed. But I am grateful for what you can do for me. They heard me describe your wonderful airship," he explained to Tom, "and wanted to see for themselves."

The Nihilists were made welcome after Mr. Petrofsky had introduced them. They had strange and almost unpronounceable names for the ears of our friends, and I will not trouble you with them, save to say that the one who spoke English fairly well, and who was the leader, was called Nicolas Androwsky. There was much jabbering in the Russian tongue, when Mr. Petrofsky and Mr. Androwsky took the others about the craft, explaining how it worked.

"I can't show you the air glider," said Tom, who naturally acted as guide, "as it would take too long to put together, and besides there is not enough wind here to make it operate."

"Then you need much wind?" asked Nicolas Androwsky.

"The harder the gale the better she flies," answered Tom proudly.

"Bless my sand bag, but that's right!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, who, up to now had not taken much part in the conversation. He followed the party about the airship, keeping in the rear, and he eyed the Nihilists as if he thought that each one had one or more dynamite bombs concealed on his person.

"Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Androwsky, turning suddenly to the odd man. "Are you not one of us? Do you not believe that this terrible kingdom should be destroyed--made as nothing, and a new one built from its ashes? Are you not one of us?" and with a quick gesture he reached into his pocket.

"No! No!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, starting back. "Bless my election ticket! No! Never could I throw a bomb. Please don't give me one." Mr. Damon started to run away.

"A bomb!" exclaimed the Nihilist, and then he drew from his pocket some pamphlets printed in Russian. "I have no bombs. Here are some of the tracts we distribute to convert unbelievers to our cause," he went on. "Read them and you will understand what we are striving for. They will convert you, I am sure."

He went on, following the rest of the party, while Mr. Damon dropped back with