"Don't let them hold
you!"
"I don't intend to!" retorted Mr. Petrofsky, and he swerved suddenly,
tearing his coat, from the grasp of the guard.
In another instant the exile was at the casement, and was being helped
through by Mr. Damon, and there was need of it, for the three guards
were there now, doing their best to keep their prisoner.
"Pull away! Pull away!" cried Mr. Damon.
"We'll help you!" shouted Tom, who, now that his trick had worked, had
sped around to the other side of the hut.
"Don't be afraid, we're with you!" exclaimed the detective, who was with
the young inventor.
"Grab him! Keep him! Hold him!" fairly screamed the rearmost of the
three guards. "It is a plot of the Nihilists to rescue him. Shoot him,
comrades. He must not get away!"
"Don't you try any of your shooting games, or I'll take a hand in it!"
shouted the detective, and, at the same moment he drew his revolver and
fired harmlessly in the air.
"A bomb! A bomb!", yelled the guards in terror.
"Not yet, but there may be!" murmured Tom. The firing of the shot
produced a good effect, for the three men who were trying to detain Ivan
Petrofsky at once fell back from the window and gave him just the chance
needed. He scrambled through, with the aid of Mr. Damon, and before the
guards could again spring at him, which they did when the echoes of the
shot had died away.
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