"How do you expect to get definite information as to where he might be?" asked Tom.
"I think the only thing to do is to get in touch with some of the revolutionists," answered the Russian. "They have ways and means of finding out even state secrets. I think our best plan will be to land near some small town, when we get to the edge of Siberia. If we can conceal the airship, so much the better. Then I can disguise myself and go to the village."
"Will it be safe?" inquired the young inventor.
"I'll have to take that chance. It's the only way, as I am the only one in our party who can speak Russian."
"That's right," admitted Tom with a laugh. "I'm afraid I could never master that tongue. It's as hard as Chinese."
"Not quite," replied his friend, "but it is not an easy language for an American."
They talked at some length, and then Tom noticing, by one of the automatic gages on the wall of the pilot house, that some of the machinery needed attention, went to attend to it.
He was rather surprised, on emerging from the motor compartment, to see Mr. Damon standing on the open after deck of the Falcon gazing earnestly toward the rear.
"Star-gazing in the day time?" asked Tom with a laugh.
"Bless my individuality!" exclaimed the odd man. "How you startled me, Tom! No, I'm not looking at stars, but I've been noticing a black speck in the sky for some time, and I was wondering whether it was my eyesight, or whether it really is something."