"What don't you like, Mr. Petrofsky?"
"So many men surrounding us. I believe some of them are officers dressed
in civilians' clothes, and a Russian officer never does that unless he
has some object."
"And you think the object is--?"
"To capture us."
"If it was that, wouldn't they have done it long ago--when we first came
down?"
"No, they are evidently waiting for something perhaps for some high
official, without whose orders they dare do nothing. Russia is overrun
with officialdom."
And a little later Ivan Petrofsky's suspicion proved true. There arrived
a man in uniform, who spoke fairly good English, and who politely asked
Tom if he would not delay the start of the airship, again, until the
governor could arrive from his country place to see it.
"We know you are going to leave us," said the Russian with a smile, "for
you have sent for kerosene. But please wait."
"If your governor comes soon we'll wait," replied Tom. "But we are in a
hurry. I wish that kerosene fellow would get a move on," he murmured.
"Oh, he will doubtless be here soon," said the officer. "Might I be
permitted to come aboard and wait for my chief?"
"Sorry, but it's not allowed," replied our hero, straining his eyes down
the road for a sight of the wagoner. At last he came, and Tom breathed
easier.
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