"We'll hide here for a few days," observed Tom, "and you can spend as
much time in town as you like, Mr. Petrofsky,"
The Russian, disguising himself by trimming his beard, and putting on a
pair of dark spectacles, went to the village that afternoon.
While he was gone Tom, Ned and Mr. Damon busied themselves about the
airship, making a few repairs that could not very well be done while it
was in motion. As night came on, and the exile did not return, Tom began
to get a little worried, and he had some notion of going to seek him,
but he knew it would not be safe.
"He'll come all right," declared Ned, as they sat down to supper. All
about them was an almost impenetrable forest, cut here and there by
paths along which, as Mr. Petrofsky had told them, the wood cutters
drove their wagons.
It was quite a surprise therefor, when, as they were leaving the table,
a knock was heard on the cabin door.
"Bless my electric bell!" cried Mr. Damon. "Who can that be?"
"Mr. Petrofsky of course," answered Ned.
"He wouldn't knock--he'd walk right in," spoke Tom, as he went to the
door. As he opened it he saw several dark-bearded men standing there,
and in their midst Mr. Petrofsky.
For one moment our hero feared that his friend had been arrested and
that the police bad come to take the rest of them into custody.
Pages:
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121