as gold!"

"More so!" cried Tom enthusiastically.

"Oh, here's a whopping big one!" cried Ned. "I'll bet it weighs ten
pounds."

"More than that!" cried Tom, as he ran over and began digging it out,
and they found later that it did. Platinum is usually found in small
granules, but there are records of chunks being found weighing twenty
pounds while others, the size of pigeons' eggs, are not uncommon.

"Say, this is great!" yelled Ned, discovering another large piece, and
digging it out.

"I am glad we could lead you to it," said the elder Russian brother.
"It is a small return for what you did for us!"

"Nonsense!" cried Tom. "These must be a king's ransom here. Everybody
dig it out! Get all you can."

They were all busy, but the light of the two torches Tom had brought
was not sufficient for good and efficient work, so after getting
several thousand dollars worth of the precious metal, they decided to
postpone operations until morning, and come with more lights.

They were at the work soon after breakfast, the night in the air glider
having passed without incident. The treasure of platinum proved even
richer than the Russians had thought, and it was no wonder the Imperial
government had tried so hard to locate it, or get on the trail of those
who sought it.

"And it's all good stuff!" cried Tom eagerly. "Not like that low-grade
gold of the underground city. I can make my own terms when I sell this."

For three days our friends dug and dug in that platinum mine, so many
years lost to man, and when they got ready to leave they had indeed a
king's ransom with them. But it was to be equally divided. Tom insisted
on this, as his Russian friends had been instrumental in finding it.
Toward the end of the excavation large pieces were scarce, and it was
evident that the mine was what is called a "lode."

"Well, shall we go back now?" asked Tom one day, after the finish of
their mining operations. The work was comparatively simple, as the
platinum lumps had merely to be dug out of the sides of the cave. But
the loneliness and dreariness of the place was telling on them all.

"Can't we carry any more?" asked Ned.

"We could, but it might not be safe. I don't want to take on too much
weight, as my glider isn't as stable as the airship. But we have plenty
of the metal.

"Indeed we have," agreed Ivan Petrofsky. "Much of mine and my brother's
will go toward helping relieve the sufferings of the Siberian exiles,"
he