Tom Swift and His Air Glider; Or, Seeking the Platinum Treasure

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER V

  A CLEW FROM RUSSIA

  "Nothing much up here," remarked Tom, when he and Ned had gone all overthe second floor twice. "That scrap of paper, which put me on to thefact that some one from the Russian government had been here, is aboutall. They must have taken all the documents Mr. Petrofsky had."

  "Maybe he didn't have any," suggested Ned.

  "If he was wise he'd get rid of them when he knew he was beingshadowed, as he told us. Perhaps that was why they broke up thefurniture, searching for hidden papers, or they may have done it out ofspite because they didn't find anything. But we might as well godownstairs and look there."

  But the first floor was equally unproductive of clews, save thosealready noted, which showed, at least so Tom believed, that Mr.Petrofsky had been surprised and overpowered while at breakfast.

  "Now for outside!" cried the young inventor. "We'll see if we canfigure out how they got him away."

  There were plenty of marks in the soft ground and turf, which was stilldamp from the night's rain, though it was now afternoon. Unfortunately,however, in approaching the house after leaving the aeroplane, Ned andTom had not thought to exercise caution, and, not suspecting anythingwrong, they had stepped on a number of footprints left by thekidnappers.

  But for all that, they saw enough to convince them that several men hadbeen at the lonely house, for there were many marks of shoes. It wasout of the question, however, to tell which were those of Mr. Petrofskyand which those of his captors.

  "They might have carried him out to a carriage they had in waiting,"suggested Ned. "Let's go out to the front gate and look in the road.They hardly would bring the carriage up to the door."

  "Good idea," commented Tom, and they hurried to the main thoroughfarethat passed the Russian's house.

  "Here they are!" cried Ned, who was in the lead. "There's been acarriage here as sure as you're a foot high and it's a rubber-tired onetoo."

  "GOOD!" cried Tom admiringly. "You're coming right along in yourdetective training. How do you make that out?"

  "See here, where a piece of rubber has been broken or cut out of thetire. It makes a peculiar mark in the dirt every time the wheel goesaround."

  "That's right, and it will be a good thing to trace the carriage by.Come on, we'll keep right after it."

  "Hold on a bit," suggested Ned, who, though not so quick as Tom Swift,frequently produced good results by his very slowness. "Are you goingoff and leave the airship here for some one to walk off with?"

  "Guess they wouldn't take it far," replied the young inventor, "but I'dbetter make it safe. I'll disconnect it so they can't start it, thoughif Andy Foger happens to come along he might slash the planes just outof spite. But I guess he won't show up."

  Tom took a connecting pin out of the electrical apparatus, making itimpossible to start the aeroplane, and then, wheeling it out of sightbehind a small barn, he and Ned went back to the carriage marks in theroad.

  "Hurry!" urged Tom, as he started off in the direction of the villageof Hurdtown, near where the cottage stood. "We will ask people livingalong the highway if they've seen a carriage pass."

  "But what makes you think they went off that way?" asked Ned. "I shouldthink they'd head away from the village, so as not to be seen."

  "No, I don't agree with you. But wait, we'll look at the marks. Maybethat will help us."

  Peering carefully at the marks of horses' hoofs and the wheelimpressions, Tom uttered a cry of discovery.

  "I have it!" he declared. "The carriage came from the village, and keptright on the other way. You're right, Ned. They didn't go back to town.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Of course. You can see for yourself; if the carriage had turned aroundthe track would show, but it doesn't and, even if they turned on thegrass, there'd be two lines of marks--one coming out here and onereturning. As it is there is only a single set--just as if the carriagedrove up here, took on its load, and continued on. This way, Ned."

  They hurried down the road, and soon came to a cluster of farm houses.Inquiries there, however, failed to bring anything to light, for eitherthe occupants of the house had failed to notice passing vehicles, orthere had been so many that any particular carriage was not recalled.And there were now so many impressions in the soft dirt of thehighway--so many wheel tracks and hoof imprints--that it was impossibleto pick out those of the carriage with the cut rubber tire. "Well, Iguess it isn't of much use to go on any farther," spoke Ned, when theyhad traveled several miles and had learned nothing.

  "We'll try one more house, and then go back," agreed Tom. "We'll telldad about what's happened, and see what he says."

  "Carriage?" repeated an old farmer to whom they next put the question."Wa'al, now, come t' think of it, I did see one drivin' along hereearly this morning. It had rubber tires on too, for I recollectremarkin' t' myself that it didn't make much noise. Had t' talk t'myself," he added in explanation, "'cause nobody else in the family wasup, 'ceptin' th' dog."

  "Did the carriage have some Russians in it?" asked Tom eagerly, "andwas one a big bearded man?"

  "Wa'al, now you've got me," admitted the farmer frankly. "It was quiteearly you see, and I didn't take no particular notice. I got up earlyt' do my milkin' 'cause I have t' take it t' th' cheese factory. That'sth' reason nobody was up but me. But I see this carriage comin' downth' road, and thinks I t' myself it was pretty middlin' early feranybody t' be takin' a pleasure ride. I 'lowed it were a pleasure ride,'cause it were one of them hacks that folks don't usually use 'ceptin'fer a weddin', or a funeral, an' it wa'n't no funeral."

  "Then you can't tell us anything more except that it passed?" asked Ned.

  "No, I couldn't see inside, 'cause it was rather dark at that hour, andthen, too, I noticed that they had th' window shades down."

  "That's suspicious!" exclaimed Tom. "I believe they are the fellows we'reafter," and, without giving any particulars he said that they werelooking for a friend who might have been taken away against his will.

  "Could you tell where they were going?" asked Tom, scarcely hoping toget an affirmative answer.

  "Wa'al, th' man on th' seat pulled up when he see me," spoke the farmerwith exasperating slowness, "an' asked me how far it was t' th'Waterville station, an' I told him."

  "Why didn't you say so at first?" asked Tom quickly. "Why didn't youtell us they were heading for the railroad?"

  "You didn't ask me," replied the farmer. "What difference does it make."

  "Every minute counts!" exclaimed the young inventor. "We want to keepright after those fellows. Maybe the agent can tell us where theybought tickets to, and we can trace them that way.

  "Shouldn't wonder," commented the farmer. "There ain't many trains outfrom Waterville at that time of day, an' mighty few passengers.Shouldn't wonder but Jake Applesauer could put ye on th' trail."

  "Much obliged," called Tom. "Come on, Ned," and he started back in thedirection of the house where the kidnapping had taken place.

  "That ain't th' way t' 'vaterville!" the farmer shouted after them.

  "I know it, we're going to get our airship," answered Tom, and then heheard the farmer mutter.

  "Plumb crazy! That's what they be! Plumb crazy! Going after theirairship! Shouldn't wonder but they was escaped lunatics, and the otherfellers was keepers after 'em. Hu! Wa'al, I've got my work to do.'Tain't none of my affair."

  "Let him think what he likes," commented Ned as he and his chum hurriedon. "We're on the trail all right."

  If Jake Applesauer, the agent at the Waterville station, was surprisedat seeing two youths drop down out of an aeroplane, and beginquestioning him about some suspicious strangers that had taken themorning train, he did not show it. Jake prided himself on not beingsurprised at anything, except once when he took a counterfeit dollar inreturn for a ticket, and had to make it good to the company.

  But, to the despair of Tom and Ned, he could not help them much. He hadseen the party, of course. They had driven up in the hack, an
d one ofthe men seemed to be sick, or hurt, for his head was done up inbandages, and the others had to half carry him on the train.

  "That was Mr. Petrofsky all right," declared Ned.

  "Sure," assented Tom. "They must have hurt and drugged him. But youcan't tell us for what station they bought tickets, Mr. Applesauer?"

  "No, for they didn't buy any. They must have had 'em, or else they paidon the train. One man drove off in the coach, and that's all I know."

  As Tom and Ned started back to Shopton in the aeroplane they discussedwhat could be done next. A hard task lay before them, and they realizedthat.

  "They could have gotten off at any station between here and New York,or even changed to another railroad at the junction," spoke Tom. "It'sgoing to be a hard job."

  "Guess we'll have to get some regular detectives on it," suggested Ned.

  "And that's what I'll do," declared the young inventor. "They may beable to locate Mr. Petrofsky before those spies take him out of thiscountry. If they don't--it will be too late. I'm going to talk to dadabout it, and if he agrees I'll hire the best private detectives."

  Mr. Swift gave his consent when Tom had told the story, and, a daylater, one of the best detectives of a well known agency called on Tomin Shopton and assumed charge of the case.

  The early reports from the detective were quite reassuring. He got onthe trail of the men who had taken Mr. Petrofsky away, and confirmedthe suspicion that they were agents of the Russian police. He trailedthem as far as New York, and there the clews came to an end.

  "Whether they are in the big city, which might easily be, or in some ofthe nearby towns, will take some time to learn," the detective wrote,and Tom wired back telling him to keep on searching.

  But, as several weeks went by, and no word came, even Tom began to giveup hope, though he did not stop work on the air glider, which wasnearing completion. And then, most unexpectedly a clew came--a clewfrom far-off Russia.

  Tom got a letter one day--a letter in a strange hand, the stamp andpostmark showing that it had come from the land of the Czar.

  "What do you suppose it contains?" asked Ned, who was with his chumwhen the communication was received.

  "Haven't the least idea; but I'll soon find out."

  "Maybe it's from the Russian police, telling you to keep away fromSiberia."

  "Maybe," answered Tom absently, for he was reading the missive. "Isay!" he suddenly cried. "This is great! A clew at last, and from St.Petersburg! Listen to this, Ned!

  "This letter is from the head of one of the secret societies overthere, a society that works against the government. It says that Mr.Petrofsky is being detained a prisoner in a lonely hut on the Atlanticsea coast, not far from New York--Sandy Hook the letter says--and hereare the very directions how to get there!"

  "No!" cried Ned, in disbelief. "How in the world could anybody inRussia know that."

  "It tells here," said Tom. "It's all explained. As soon as the secretpolice got Mr. Petrofsky they communicated with the head officials inSt. Petersburg. You know nearly everyone is a spy over there, and theletter says that Mr. Petrofsky's friends there soon heard the news, andeven about the exact place where he is being held."

  "What are they holding him for?" asked Ned.

  "That's explained, too. It seems they can't legally take him back untilcertain papers are received from his former prison in Siberia, andthose are now on the way. His friends write to me to hasten and rescuehim."

  "But how did they ever get your address?"

  "That's easy, though you wouldn't think so. It seems, so the letterexplains, that as soon as Mr. Petrofsky got acquainted with us he wroteto friends in St. Petersburg, giving my address, and telling them, incase anything ever happened to him, to notify us. You see he suspectedthat something might, after he found he was being shadowed that way.

  "And it all worked out. As soon as his friends heard that he wascaught, and learned where he was being held, they wrote to me. Hurrah,Ned! A clew at last! Now to wire the detective--no, hold on, we'll gothere and rescue him ourselves! We'll go in the airship, and pick upDetective Trivett in New York."

  "That's the stuff! I'm with you!"

  "Bless my suspender buttons! So am I, whatever it is!" cried Mr. Damon,entering the room at that moment.