"
"Oh, we'll get there," cried Tom. "Ned, see to the gas machine. Mr.
Damon, you can help me in the pilot house."
"Here is a map of the best route," said the Nihilist, as he handed one
to Mr. Petrofsky. "It will take you there the shortest way. But how can
you steer when high in the air?"
"By compass," explained Tom. "We'll get there, never fear, and we're
grateful for your clew."
"I never can thank you enough!" exclaimed the exile, as he shook hands
with Mr. Androwsky,
The Nihilist left, after announcing that, in the event of the success of
Tom and his friends, and the rescue of the exile from the sulphur mine,
it would probably become known to them, as such news came through the
Revolutionary channels, slowly but surely.
"Here we go!" cried the young inventor gaily, as he turned the starting
lever in the pilot house, and silently, in the darkness of the night,
the Falcon shot upward. There was not a light on board, for, though
small signal lamps had been kept burning when the craft was in the
forest, to guide the Nihilists to her, now that she was up in the air,
and in motion, it was feared that her presence would become known to the
authorities of the town, so even these had been extinguished.
"After we get well away we can turn on the electrics," remarked Tom,
"and if they see us at a distance they may take us for a meteor.
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