o had
evidently come from the lonely house. "Did I hear you say you needed
some platinum?" he asked. He spoke with a foreign accent, and Tom at
once put him down for a Russian.

"Yes, I need some for my magneto," began the young inventor.

"If you will kindly step up to my house, perhaps I can give you what
you want," went on the man. "My name is Ivan Petrofsky, and I have only
lately come to live here."

"I'm Tom Swift, of Shopton, and this is my chum, Ned Newton," replied
the young inventor, completing the introductions. He was wondering why
the man, who seemed a cultured gentleman, should live in such a lonely
place, and he was wondering too how he happened to have some platinum.

"Will that answer?" asked Mr. Petrofsky, when they had reached his
house, and he had handed Tom several strips of the precious silverlike
metal.

"Do? I should say it would! My, but that is the best platinum I've seen
in a long while!" exclaimed Tom, who was an expert judge of this metal.
"Where did you get it, if I may ask?"

"It came from a lost mine in Siberia," was the unexpected answer.

"A lost mine?" gasped Tom.

"In Siberia?" added Ned.

Mr. Petrofsky slowly nodded his head, and smiled, but rather sadly.

"A lost mine," he said slowly, "and if it could be found I would be the
happiest man on earth for I would then be able to locate and save my
brother, who is one of the Czar's exiles," and he seemed shaken by
emotion.

Tom and Ned stood looking at the bearded man, and then the young
inventor glanced at the platinum strips in his hand while a strange and
daring thought came to him.

CHAPTER II

A DARING PROJECT

While Tom and his chum are in the house of the Russian, who so
strangely produced the platinum just when it was most needed, I am
going to take just a little time to tell you something about the hero
of this story. Those who have read the previous books of this series
need no introduction to him, but in justice to my new readers I must
make a little explanation.

Tom Swift was an inventor, as was his father before him. But Mr. Swift
was getting too old, now, to do much, though he had a pet
invention--that of a gyroscope--on which he worked from time to time.
Tom lived with his father in the village of Shopton, in New York state.
His mother was dead, but a housekeeper, named Mrs. Baggert, looked
after the wants of the inventors, young and old.

The first book of the series was called "Tom Swift a