Mr. Damon, who had done all that Tom needed in the starting of the craft, went to the forward port rail, and idly looked down on the black forest they were leaving. He could just make out the clearing where they had rested for over a week, and he was startled to see lights bobbing in it.
"I say, Mr. Petrofsky!" he called. "Did we leave any of our lanterns behind us?"
"I don't believe so," answered the exile. "I'll ask Tom."
"Lanterns? No," answered the young inventor. "Before we started I took down the only one we had out. I'll take a look."
Setting the automatic steering apparatus, he joined Mr. Damon and the Russian. The lights were now dimly visible, moving about in the forest clearing.
"It's just as if they were looking for something," said Tom. "Can it be that any of your Nihilist friends, Mr. Petrofsky are"
"Friends—no friends—enemies!" cried the Russian. "I understand now! We got away just in time. Those are police agents who are looking for us! They must have received word about our being there. Androwsky and the others never carry lights when they go about. They know the country too well, and then, too, it leads to detection. No, those are police spies. A few min-
