Damon bustling proudly about from the table to the
galley, and serving tea as nearly like the Russians drink it as
possible.
"Well, you certainly have a wonderful craft here--wonderful," spoke Mr.
Androwsky. "If we had some of these in our group now, we could start
from here, hover over the palace of the Czar, or one of the Grand Dukes,
drop a bomb, utterly destroy it, and come back before any of the hated
police would be any the wiser."
"I'm afraid I can't lend it to you," said Tom, and he could scarcely
repress a shudder at the terrible ideas of the Nihilists.
"It would never do," agreed Ivan Petrofsky. "The campaign of education
is the only way."
There were gutteral objections on the part of the other Russians, and
they turned to more cheerful subjects of talk.
"What are your plans?" asked Tom of the exile. "You say you can get no
trace here of your brother?"
"No, he seems to have totally disappeared from sight. Usually we enemies
of the government can get some news of a prisoner, but poor Peter is
either dead, or in some obscure mine, which is hidden away in the
forests or mountains."
"Maybe he is in the lost platinum mine," suggested Ned.
"No, that has not been discovered," declared the exile, "or my friends
here would have heard of it. That is still to be found.
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