we can."

"Bless my comb and brush!" cried the odd man. "I don't know what's
going to become of us."

"You will know, pretty soon, if the gas isn't let out!" retorted Tom
grimly, and then Mr. Damon hastened to the generator compartment, and
opened the emergency outlet.

Finally, by crowding on all the possible power, so that the propellers
and deflecting rudders forced the craft down, Tom was able to get out
of the grip of the hurricane, and landed just beyond the zone of it on
the ground.

"Whew! That was a narrow squeak!" cried Ned, as he got out. "How'd you
do it, Tom?"

"I hardly know myself. But it's evident that we're on the right spot
now."

"But the wind has stopped blowing," said Mr. Damon. "It was only a
gust."

"It was the worst kind of a gust I ever want to see," declared the
young inventor. "My air glider ought to work to perfection in that. If
you think the wind has died out, Mr. Damon, just walk in that
direction," and Tom pointed off to the left.

"Bless my umbrella, I will," was the reply and the odd man started off.
He had not gone far, before he was seen to put his hand to his cap.
Still he kept on.

"He's getting into the blow-zone," said Tom in a low voice.

The next moment Mr. Damon was seen to stagger and fall, while his cap
was whisked from his head, and sent high into the air, almost instantly
disappearing from sight.

"Some wind that," murmured Ned, in rather awe-struck tones.

"That's so," agreed his chum. "But we'd better help Mr. Damon," for
that gentleman was slowly crawling back, not caring to trust himself on
his feet, for the wind had actually carried him down by its force.

"Bless my anemometer!" he gasped, when Tom and Ned had given him a hand
up. "What happened?"

"It was the great wind," explained Tom. "It blows only in a certain
zone, like a draft down a chimney. It is like a cyclone, only that goes
in a circle. This is a straight wind, but the path of it seems to be as
sharply marked as a trail through the forest. I guess we're here all
right. Does this location look familiar to you?" he asked of the
Russian brothers.

"I can't say that it does," answered Ivan. "But then it was winter when
we were here."

"And, another thing," put in Peter. "That wind zone is quite wide. The
mine may be in the middle, or near the other edge."

"That's so," agreed Tom. "We'll soon see what we can do. Come on, Ned,
let's get the air glider out and put her together. She'll have