"It would be useless in the terrific winds, I fear," answered Ivan Petrofsky. "But now I care little for the mine. It is my brother whom I want to save. He must be in some of the Siberian mines, and if I had such a craft as this I might be able to rescue him."
Tom Swift dropped the file he was using. A bright light sparkled in his eyes. He seemed strangely excited.
"Mr. Petrofsky!" he cried, "would you let me have a try at finding your brother, and would you come with me?"
"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.