o three," replied the young inventor. "But if we can get
him away without a fight, so much the better. I think I have it. I'll
go up to the door, knock and make quite a racket, and demand admittance
in the name of the Czar. That will startle them, and they may all three
rush to answer. Mr. Damon, you and the detective will stay by the
window. As soon as you see the men rush for the door, smash in the
window with a piece of driftwood and call to Mr. Petrofsky to jump out
that way. Then you can run with him toward the airship, and I'll
follow. It may work."

"I don't see why it wouldn't," declared the detective. "Go ahead, Tom.
We're ready."

Looking in once more, to make sure that the guards were not aware of
the presence of the rescuing party, Tom went to the front door of the
hut. It was a small building, evidently one used by fishermen.

Tom knocked loudly on the portal, at the same time crying out in a
voice that he strove to make as deep and menacing as possible:

"Open! Open in the name of the Czar!"

Looking through the window, ready to act on the instant, Mr. Damon and
the detective saw the three guards spring to their feet. One remained
near Mr. Petrofsky, who also leaped up.

"Now!" called the detective to his companion. "Smash the window!"

The next instant a big piece of driftwood crashed through the casement,
just as the two men were hurrying to the front door to answer Tom's
summons.

"Mr. Petrofsky! This way!" yelled Mr. Damon, sticking his head in
through the broken sash. "Come out! We've come to save you! Bless my
putty blower, but this is great! Come on!"

For a moment the exile stared at the head thrust through the broken
window, and he listened to Tom's emphatic knocks and demands. Then with
a cry of delight the Russian sprang for the open casement, while the
guard that had remained near him made a leap to catch him, crying out:

"Betrayed! Betrayed! It's the Nihilists! Look out, comrades!"

CHAPTER VII

THE AIR GLIDER

Mr. Damon continued to hammer away at the window sash with the piece of
driftwood. There were splinters of the frame and jagged pieces of glass
sticking out, making it dangerous for the exile to slip through.

"Come on! Come on!" the eccentric man continued to call. "Bless my
safety valve! We'll save you! Come on!"

Mr. Petrofsky was leaping across the room, just ahead of the one guard.
The other two were at the open door now, through which Tom could be
see