"Would I?" asked the Russian eagerly. "I would be your debtor for life,
and I would always pray for you, if you could help me to save my brother
Peter."

"Then we'll have a try at it!" cried Tom. "I've got a different airship
than this--one in which I can travel three thousand miles without coming
down. I haven't had any excitement since I got back from the city of
gold. I'm going to Russia to help you rescue your brother from exile,
and I'm also going to have a try for that lost platinum treasure!"

"Thank heaven, there is some hope for poor Peter at last," murmured Mr.
Petrofsky earnestly.

"You never can get to the platinum mine," said Ned. The winds will tear
your airship to pieces."

"Not the kind I'm going to make," declared Tom. "It's going to be an air
glider, that will fairly live on high winds. Ho! for Siberia and the
platinum mines. Will you come?"

"I don't know what you mean by an air glider, Tom Swift, but I'll go to
help rescue my brother," was the quick answer, and then, with the light
of a daring resolve shining in his eyes, the young inventor proceeded to
get his aeroplane in shape for the trip back to Shopton.




CHAPTER III