And once the Russian government sets out to do a thing
it generally does it--I'll give 'em credit for that."
"But how do you suppose they know you're going to Russia?"
"Say, those fellows have ways of getting information you and I would
never dream of. Why, didn't you read the other day how some fellow who
was supposed to be one of the worst Anarchists ever, high up in making
bombs, plotting, and all that sort of thing--turned out to be a police
spy? They get their information that way. I shouldn't be surprised but
what some of the very people whom Mr. Petrofsky thinks are his friends
are spies, and they send word to headquarters of every move he makes."
"Why don't you warn him?"
"He knows it as well as I do. The trouble is you can't tell who the
spies are until it's too late. I'm glad I'm not mixed up in that sort of
thing. If I can get to Siberia, help Mr. Petrofsky rescue his brother,
and get hold of some of that platinum I'll be satisfied. Then I won't go
back to the land of the Czar, once I get away from there."
"That's right. Well, let's go back and work on the glider."
"And we'll have Eradicate patrolling about the shop to make sure we're
not spied on again."
"By golly! Ef I sees any oh 'em, I suah will pinch 'em!" cried the
colored man, as he clicked the pliers.
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