hip, to be ready to start it off as soon as we
come back with Mr. Petrofsky--if we do come.

"Then there's no use in me staying here," spoke Detective Trivett. "I
don't know enough even to turn on the gasolene."

"No, it's got to be Ned or me," said the young inventor.

"I'll stay," volunteered Ned quickly, for though he would very much
have liked to be in at the rescue, he realized that his place was in
the airship, as Mr. Damon was not sufficiently familiar with the
machinery to operate it.

Accordingly, after looking to everything to see that it was in working
order, Tom led the advance. It was just getting dusk, and they figured
on getting to the hut after dark.

"Have everything ready for a quick start," Tom said to Ned, "for we may
come back running."

"I will," was the prompt answer, and then, getting their bearings, the
little party set off.

They had to travel over a stretch of sandy waste that ran along the
beach. Back in shore were a few scattered cottages, and not yet opened
for the summer, and on the ocean side was the pounding surf. The hut,
as Tom recalled the directions, lay just beyond a group of stunted
hemlock trees that set a little way back from the ocean, on a bluff
overlooking the sea. It was not near any other building.

Slowly, and avoiding going any nearer the other houses than they could
help, the little party made its way. They had to depend on their own
judgement now, for the minor details of the location of the hut could
not be given in the letter from Russia. In fact the spies themselves,
in writing to their head officers about the matter, had not described
the location in detail.

"That looks like it over there," said Tom at last, when they had gone
about a mile and a half, and saw a lonely hut with a light burning in
it.

Cautiously they approached and, as they drew nearer, they saw that the
light came through the window of a small hut.

"Looks like the place," commented the detective.

"We'll have a look," remarked Tom.

He crept up so he could glance in the window, and no sooner had he
peered in, than he motioned for the others to approach.

Looking under a partly-drawn curtain, Mr. Damon and Mr. Trivett saw the
Russian whom they sought. He was seated at a table, his head bowed on
his hands, and in the room were three men. A rifle stood in one corner,
near one of the guards.

"They're taking no chances," whispered Mr. Damon. "What shall we do,
Tom?"

"It's three t