The announcement of Ivan Petrofsky came to Tom with startling suddenness. He could say nothing for a moment, and then, as he realized what it meant, and as he recalled the strange appearance and actions of the man, he understood the danger.
"Was he a spy?" he asked.
"I'm almost sure he was," came the answer. "He isn't one of the villagers, that's sure, and he isn't a tourist. No one else would be in this little out-of-the-way place but a police official. He is in disguise, that is certain."
"I believe so," agreed Tom. "But what was his game?"
"We are suspected," replied the Russian. "I was afraid a big airship couldn't land anywhere, in France without it becoming known. Word must have been sent to Paris in the night, and this spy came out directly."
"But what will happen now?"
"Didn't you see where he headed for? The village. He has gone to send word that his trick failed. There will be more spies soon, and we may be detained or thrown into jail on some pretext or other. They may claim that we have no license, or some such flimsy thing as that. Anything to detain us. They are after me, of course, and I'm sorry that I made you run such danger. Perhaps I'd better leave you, and—"
"No, you don't!" cried Tom heartily. "We'll all hang together or we'll hang separately', as Benjamin Franklin or some of those old chaps once remarked. I'm not the kind to desert a friend in the face of danger."
"Bless my revolver! I should say not!" cried Mr. Damon. "What's it all about? Where's the danger?"
They told him as briefly as possible, and Ned, who had been working in the motor room, was also informed.