It's the platinum bearings again. I do hope we'll locate that
lost mine, for I need a supply of good reliable metal.
"Then we'll have to land in France?" asked the Russian, and he seemed a
trifle uneasy.
"Yes," answered Tom. "Don't you want to?"
"Well, I was thinking of our safety."
"Bless my silk hat!" cried Mr. Damon. "Where is the danger of landing
there? I rather hoped we could spend some time in Paris."
"There is no particular danger, unless it be comes known that I am an
escaped exile, and that we are on our way to Siberia to rescue another
one, and try to find the platinum mine. Then we would be in danger."
"But how are they to know it?" asked Ned, who had come back from the gas
machine.
"France, especially in Paris and the larger cities, is a hot-bed of
political spies," answered Mr. Petrofsky. Russia has many there on the
secret police, and while the objectors to the Czar's government are also
there, they could do little to help us."
"I guess they won't find out about us unless we give it away," was Tom's
opinion.
"I'm afraid they will," was the reply of the Russian. "Undoubtedly word
has been cabled by the spies who annoyed us in Shopton, that we are on
our way over here. Of course they can't tell where we might land, but as
soon as we do land the news will be flashed all over, and the word will
come back that we are enemies of Russia.
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