Chapter XVIII. In a Russian Prison

The news they had waited for had come at last. It might be a false clew, 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 and they 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 is reliable. 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. In making inquiries our friends might incur suspicions and Peter Petrofsky may 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 one to Mr. Petrofsky. "It will take you there the shortest way. But how can you steer when high in the air?"

"By compass," explained Tom. "We'll get there, never fear, and we're grateful for your clew."

"I never can thank you enough!" exclaimed the exile, as he shook hands with Mr. Androwsky,

The Nihilist left, after announcing that, in the event of the success of Tom and his friends, and the rescue of the exile from the sulphur mine, it would probably become known to them, as such news came through the Revolutionary channels, slowly but surely.

"Here we go!" cried the young inventor gaily, as he turned the starting lever in the pilot house, and silently, in the darkness of the night, the Falcon shot upward. There was not a light on board, for, though small signal lamps had been kept burning when the craft was in the forest, 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 to the 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 the craft, went to the forward port rail, and idly looked down on the black forest they were leaving. He could just make out the clearing where they had rested for over a week, and he was startled to see lights bobbing in it.

"I say, Mr. Petrofsky!" he called. "Did we leave any of our lanterns behind us?"

"I don't believe so," answered the exile. "I'll ask Tom."

"Lanterns? No," answered the young inventor. "Before we started I took down the only one we had out. I'll take a look."