There was an ominous silence in the engine room, following
the flash and the report. The young inventor took in every
bit of machinery in a quick glance, and he saw at once that
the main dynamo and magneto had short-circuited, and gone
out of commission. Almost instantly the airship began to
sink, for the propellers had ceased revolving.
"Bless my barograph!" cried Mr. Damon, appearing on the
scene. "We're sinking, Tom!"
"It's all right," answered our hero calmly. "It's a bad
accident, and may delay us, but there's no danger. Ned,
start up the gas machine," for they were progressing as an
aeroplane then. "Start that up, and we'll drift along as a
dirigible."
"Of course! Why didn't I think of that!" exclaimed Ned,
somewhat provoked at his own want of thought. The airship
was going down rapidly, but it was the work of but a moment
to start the generator, and then the earthward motion was
checked.
"We'll have to take our chance of being blown to France,"
remarked Tom, as he went over to look at the broken
electrical machinery. "But we ought to fetch the coast by
morning with this wind. Lucky it's blowing our way."
"Then you can't use the propellers?" asked Mr. Petrofsky.
"No," replied Tom, "but if we get to France I can easily
repair this break. It's the platinum bearings again. I do
hope we'll locate that lost mine, for I need a supply of
good reliable metal.
"Then we'll have to land in France?" asked the Russian,
and he seemed a trifle uneasy.
"Yes," answered Tom. "Don't you want to?"
"Well, I was thinking of our safety."
"Bless my silk hat!" cried Mr. Damon. "Where is the danger
of landing there? I rather hoped we could spend some time in
Paris."
"There is no particular danger, unless it be comes known
that I am an escaped exile, and that we are on our way to
Siberia to rescue another one, and try to find the platinum
mine. Then we would be in danger."
"But how are they to know it?" asked Ned, who had come
back from the gas machine.
"France, especially in Paris and the larger cities, is a
hot-bed of political spies," answered Mr. Petrofsky. Russia
has many there on the secret police, and while the objectors
to the Czar's government are also there, they could do
little to help us."
"I guess they won't find out about us unless we give it
away," was Tom's opinion.
"I'm afraid they will," was the reply of the Russian.
"Undoubtedly word has been cabled by the spies who annoyed
us in Shopton, that we are on our way over here. Of course
they can't tell where we might land, but as soon as we do
land the news will be flashed all over, and the word will
come back that we are enemies of Russia. You can guess the
rest."
"Then let's go somewhere else," suggested Mr. Damon.
"It would be the same anywhere in Europe," replied Ivan
Petrofsky. "There are spies in all the large centres."
"Well, I've got to go to Paris, or some large city to get
the parts I need," said Tom. "Unfortunately I didn't bring
any along for the dynamo and magneto, as I should have done,
and I can't get the necessary pieces in a small town. I'll
have to depend on some big machine shop. But we might land
in some little-frequented place, and I could go in to town
alone."
"That might answer," spoke the Russian, and it was decided
to try that.
Meanwhile it was somewhat doubtful whether they would
reach France, for they were dependent on the wind. But it
seemed to be blowing steadily in the desired direction, and
Tom noted with satisfaction that their progress was
comparatively fast. He tried to repair the broken machinery
but found that he could not, though he spent much of the
night over it.
"Hurrah!" cried Ned when morning came, and he had taken an
observation. "There's some kind of land over there."
The wind freshened while they were at breakfast and using
more gas so as to raise them higher Tom directed the course
of his airship as best he could. He wanted to get high
enough so that if they passed over a city they would not be
observed.
At noon it could be seen through the glass that they were
over the outskirts of some large place, and after the
Russian had taken an observation he exclaimed:
"The environs of Paris! We must not land there!"
"We won't, if the wind holds out," remarked Tom and this
good fortune came to them. They succeeded in landing in a
field not far from a small village, and though several
farmers wondered much as the sight of the big airship, it
was thought by the platinum-seekers that they would be
comparatively safe.
"Now to get the first train for Paris and get the things I
need," exclaimed Tom. He set to work taking off the broken
pieces that they might be duplicated, and then, having
inquired at an inn for the nearest railroad station, and
having hired a rig, the young inventor set off.
"Can you speak French?" asked Mr. Petrofsky. "If not I
might be of service, but if I go to Paris I might be
"Never mind," interrupted Tom. "I guess I can parley enough
to get along with."
He had a small knowledge of the tongue, and with that, and
knowing that English was spoken in many places, he felt that
he could make out. And indeed he had no trouble. He easily
found his way about the gay capital, and located a machine
shop where a specialty was made of parts for automobile and
airship motors. The proprietor, knowing the broken pieces
belonged to an aeroplane, questioned Tom about his craft but
the young inventor knew better than to give any clew that
might make trouble, so he returned evasive answers.
It was nearly night when he got back to the place where he
had left the Falcon, and he found a curious crowd of rustics
grouped about it.
"Has anything happened?" he asked of his friends.
"No, everything is quiet, I'm glad to say," replied Mr.
Petrofsky. "I don't think our presence will create stir
enough so that the news of it will reach the spies in Paris.
Still I will feel easier when we're in the air again."
"It will take a day to make the repairs," said Tom, "and
put in the new pieces of platinum. But I'll work as fast as
I can."
He and Ned labored far into the night, and were at it
again the next morning. Mr. Damon and the Russian were of no
service for they did not understand the machinery well
enough. It was while Tom was outside the craft, filing a
piece of platinum in an improvised vise, that a poorly-
clothed man sauntered up and watched him curiously. Tom
glanced at him, and was at once struck by a difference
between the man's attire and his person.
For, though he was tattered and torn, the man's face
showed a certain refinement, and his hands were not those of
a farmer or laborer in which character he obviously posed.
"Monsieur has a fine airship there," he remarked to Tom.
"Oh, yes, it'll do." Tom did not want to encourage
conversation.
"Doubtless from America it comes?"
The man spoke English but with an accent, and certain
peculiarities.
"Maybe so," replied the young inventor.
"Is it permit to inspect the interior?"
"No, it isn't," came from Tom shortly. He had hurt his
finger with the file, and he was not in the best of humor.
"Ah, there are secrets then?" persisted the stranger.
"Yes!" said Tom shortly. "I wish you wouldn't bother me.
I'm busy, can't you see."
"Ah, does monsieur mean that I have poor eyesight?"
The question was snapped out so suddenly, and with such a
menacing tone that Tom glanced up quickly. He was surprised
at the look in the man's eyes.
"Just as you choose to take it," was the cool answer. "I
don't know anything about your eyes, but I know I've got
work to do."
"Monsieur is insulting!" rasped out the seeming farmer.
"He is not polite. He is not a Frenchman."
"Now that'll do!" cried Tom, thoroughly aroused. "I don't
want to be too short with you, but I've really got to get
this done. One side, if you please," and having finished
what he was doing, he started toward the airship.
Whether in his haste Tom did not notice where he was
going, or whether the man deliberately got in his way I
cannot say, but at any rate they collided and the seeming
farmer went spinning to one side, falling down.
"Monsieur has struck me! I am insulted! You shall pay for
this!" he cried, jumping to his feet, and making a rush for
our hero.
"All right. It was your own fault for bothering me but if
you want anything I'll give it to you!" cried Tom, striking
a position of defense.
The man was about to rush at him, and there would have
been a fight in another minute, had not Mr. Petrofsky,
stepping to the open window of the pilot house, called out:
"Tom! Tom! Come here, quick. Never mind him!"
Swinging away from the man, the young inventor rushed
toward the airship. As he entered the pilot house he noticed
that his late questioner was racing off in the direction of
the village.
"What is it? What's the matter?" he asked of the Russian.
"Is something more wrong with the airship?"
"No, I just wanted to get you away from that man.
"Oh, I could take care of myself."
"I know that, but don't you see what his game was? I
listened to him. He was seeking a quarrel with you."
"A quarrel?"
"Yes. He is a police spy. He wanted to get you into a
fight and then he and you would be arrested by the local
authorities. They'd clap you into jail, and hold us all
here. It's a game! They suspect us, Tom! The Russian spies
have had some word of our presence! We must get away as
quickly as we can!"