Part 19 (1/2)
For three days more they lingered, and then, one night, when they were just getting ready to retire, there was a knock on the cabin door. Mr.
Petrofsky had been to the village that day, and had received no news.
He had only returned about an hour before.
”Some one's knocking,” announced Ned, as if there could be any doubt of it.
”Bless my burglar alarm!” gasped Mr. Damon.
”I'll see who it is,” volunteered Mr. Petrofsky, and Tom looked toward the rack of loaded rifles, for that day a man, seemingly a wood cutter had pa.s.sed close to the airs.h.i.+p, and had hurried off as if he had seen a ghost.
The knock was repeated. It might be their friends, and it might be--
But Mr. Petrofsky solved the riddle by throwing back the portal, and there stood the Nihilist, Nicolas Androwsky.
”Is there anything the matter?” asked the exile quickly.
”We have news,” was the cautious answer, as the Nihilist slipped in, and closed the door behind him.
”News of my brother?”
”Of your brother! He is in a sulphur mine in the Altai Mountains, near the city of Abakansk.”
”Where's that?” asked Tom for he had forgotten most of his Russian geography.
”The Altai Mountains are a range about the middle of Siberia,”
explained Mr. Petrofsky. ”They begin at the Kirghiz Steppes, and run west. It is a wild and desolate place. I hope we can find poor Peter alive.”
”And this city of Abakansk?” went on the young inventor.
”It is many miles from here, but I can give you a good map,” said the Nihilist. ”Some of our friends are there,” he added with a half-growl.
”I wish we could rescue all of them.”
”We'd like to,” spoke Tom. ”But I fear it is impossible. But now that we have a clew, come on! Let's start at once! It may be dangerous to stay here. On to Siberia!”
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 airs.h.i.+p?”
”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.”