"That's all Mr.
Petrofsky was guilty of--politics, trying to help the poor in his own
country. It's a shame if our government stands for anything like that!"
"That's just the point!" exclaimed Tom. Probably the spies, secret
police, or whoever the Russian agents were, didn't ask any help from our
government. If they did there might be a chance for him. But likely they
worked in secret. They came here, sneaked in on him, and took him away
before he could get help. Jove! If he could only have gotten word to me
I'd have come in the airship, and then there'd be a different ending to
this."
"I guess you're right, Tom. Well, that ends it I suppose."
"Ends what?"
"Our trip to the platinum mine."
"Not a bit of it. I'm going to have a hunt for it."
"But how can you when Mr. Petrofsky can't go along to show us the way?
Besides, we wanted to help rescue his brother, and now we can't."
"Well, I'm going to make a big try," declared the young inventor firmly.
"And the first thing I'm going to do is to get our friend out of the
clutches of the Russian police."
"You are? How?"
"I'm going to make a search for him. Look here, Ned, he must have been
taken away some time to-day--perhaps only a few hours ago--and they
can't have gone far with him."
"How do you make that out?" Ned wanted to know.
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